Is it my imagination or does the High Street not cater for women in their forties?
At 47 I'm not quite ready for bigger knickers, elasticated waistbands, or tops to hide crinkly décolletage, nor do I wish to dress like a teenager. I'm partial to smart-casual looks that can be dressed up or down - whatever the event or weather conditions and I can't fathom out why I keep shopping - only to return home empty-handed. Is forty-something the age that fashion forgot I wonder? At 5' 3.5" I realise that I'm slightly shorter than average and I may have a bit of a muffin top that's been around ever since I had my daughters. I weigh exactly 9 stone - so why do I feel so meh with everything I drag into the changing rooms?
In a frantic attempt to find something that doesn't make me look like a Cadbury's Misshape, I tried on a lot during a recent shopping trip. In the rare event that I actually find something I like, I have been known to let out a small whoop of joy. I don't crave to have closets bursting with the latest fashion must-haves,
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