Growing old disgracefully...

Clothes shopping.

It's a f**king conspiracy man, I tell ya.

I feel like I am being forced into middle age clothes now that I am - you know - above the forty line. There are clothes stores for those just below, and those for 50+ but what happened to decent clothes for those who can no longer get away with that teenage look, but are not quite ready to embrace the tweed, pearls or cake hats?

Looking in a well known store today, the best thing I found was a pair of boots - the rest, well, the rest was just too young. It looked like I was trying to be something that I am not.

However whilst I don't mind not being a teenager anymore, I do resent being pushed into a store that produces matching skirts and jacket, with an accompanying flowery blouse...I don't know about you, but I don't want to wear ' a blouse'.

Is this what women have to look forward to? Wool knits, weak bladders and pregnancy horse pee tablets? (Yes, that is what HRT really is I have been reliably informed)

Well, to hell with it. I am making a stand and I refuse to stop wearing my DM's just because it isn't cricket for a 40 year old to do that. If I want to wear tartan, leather or dye my hair pink then I bloody well will. I many not quite embrace my youth, but I am also not ready to be written off quite yet...

I can see it now, come the revolution sister, a sea of middle aged women marching down the street with smiles on their faces, standing against the wall in our FMB's, waving our six inch bra straps and tena slips shouting, "...because we want to!"

Don't let anyone force you into the mould of conformity, come with me and let's grow old disgracefully...