It used to be that you weren’t supposed to wear white in the winter. The rule was you could safely wear those pretty white pumps or that white dress only at Easter or after, but only before Labor Day. I’m not sure who made up that rule or why, but it provided safety for those of us who wanted to be stylish without really knowing what we were doing. We don’t adhere to that guidance anymore – its another of our social conventions that have gone out the window, and because of this new permission to do the forbidden, I am sometimes worried what the rules really are.
On that same note, I want to tell you that for many years – many years- I have treasured a poem by Jenny Joseph called “When I Am An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple”. If you haven’t heard of it, stop right now, Google it, read it at least twice, then come back here and finish with me. Seriously, read it, but don’t forget to come back.
Welcome back! As I was saying, I love this poem. I love it because I truly believe that in this life we must seek continually to ‘make our own fun’. Certainly, the world doesn’t always provide opportunities for joy, and I believe that it is up to us, it is a call by God actually, to find our own paths to joy and laughter. (See Philippians 4 about rejoicing in the Lord…but do that later, or you’ll never finish this blog!)
Anyway. The poem says that when she becomes old she will wear garish clothes and not worry about what the fashion police say. She’ll eat what she chooses and not worry so much about cholesterol or pounds. She’ll indulge herself with the things she loves, even if those things include hoarding pencils or, in my case, sea shells and sea glass and turtle figurines… She laments, though, that she can’t actually do all she wants right now because she has responsibilities. You know, mortgages and car payments, judgemental neighbors, children who need her.
So here is the crux of the matter. When exactly am I going to be an “Old Woman”? When exactly can I start wearing purple with a red hat? When can I legitimately stop worrying about convention and properness and really go for it? ‘Cause here’s the deal – I am 60 now. I am retired. I even have a card from the Virgin Islands government that deems me a senior and affords me discounts and special privileges. BUT – I still feel bound by habit and social pressure. There are still bills and shaking heads and unwritten rules that tell me that a woman of my age shouldn’t get a tattoo or wear THAT in public. When I’ve told friends I was retiring, I’ve been asked dozens of times, “What will you DO now that you are retired?” What if I don’t want to DO anything? What if I want to take up guitar playing and sky diving? When will I be an old woman enough that I let go of the threat of someone disapproving? Hmph.
