Old before my time

Today something strange happened. I stepped sombrely off the train on my to work and was abruptly stopped in my tracks by a spritely looking fifty something year old Scottish woman who hesitantly asked, "can I ask you something slightly personal?"

There I was thinking she was going to reveal to me that she was my long lost aunt or that my casual humming One Direction on the train had morally offended her but to my relief, instead she simply complimented me on my shoes (black, granny loafers to be precise) and enquired as to where she could get a pair for herself.

Now bearing in mind I am a very youthful looking mid twenty year old, one would think I would be offended by the thought of sharing my wardrobe with a middle aged woman but instead this incident got me thinking seriously about my style.

If I was truly honest with myself I would admit that its not the clothes of model-esque twenteens that catch my eye on the street but its actually the style of the wealthy older women of Marylebone that gets my heart racing. Its that demure and unassuming combination of war torn cashmere jumpers, roomy tweed coats, faux fur scarves and sleek cigarette pants that leaves you confident that you don't have to expose half your cleavage to look impeccable.

Think Jane Birkin, Carine Roitfeld, Kristin Scott Thomas and my personal favourite Lindsay Duncan (specifically in Le Weekend).

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