Too Old for all the Clothes I Like

Once again I find myself pulling clothes off the rack, sighing at their beauty and putting them back without trying them on.  Coachella in my head. Flower crowns of the mind.  Once again,  I am way too old for all the clothes I like.  In my mind these long flowy togs look good on me.  In reality I would look like a short, middle-aged lady who got lost in the teen section. It's not as bad in the cold weather.  For fall and winter, I  can tweed and cashmere out and feel comfortable and fashionable, but come the heat? Chaos!

Yesterday I was shopping at Lord & Taylor and I was flipping through the racks next to a lovely young woman who had the unmistakable scent of McDonald's french fries on her breath.  And I'm sure she wasn't even beating herself up for eating them!  She was tall and willowy with gorgeous medium brown skin and dark eyes.  She had the most gorgeous pink headband  wrapped around a casual but perfect updo.  My guess is she was all of seventeen.   She may have even still had braces. We can't possibly like the same clothes.  Or we can, but I can't possibly wear them.  Or I could, but I'd look like an idiot.

And yes,  I know there are some clothiers who exploit that tiny bit of hippie chick urge by making things that are both age appropriate and yet still bohemian, (Calypso St. Barth's, I'm looking at you). But if you ever see me pay $150 for a cotton shirt, you'd better check my basement for pods, because that is NOT me!  Also not me?  Tailored jackets and structured skirts.  There really ought to be some fashionable, reasonable, warm weather in between.

Someday (soon?) maybe I'll be old enough to say "Screw it. I'm just wearing what I like."   Until then, I'll be haunting the racks looking for things that meet my warm weather style, won't break the bank, and won't totally embarrass me.  Wish me luck!