Are we an ageist bunch? It’s strange: older women have probably never looked better. They’re the group of women who go to lengths to preserve what is so rightfully theirs. And we celebrate that – up to a certain point.
The problem is that dressing courageously is fairly easy to sneer at. It seems, despite all efforts of collaborative sisterhood and sweet acts of female camaraderie, we’re not so easy on one another, especially as the years pass and youth recedes.
In the world of fashion, where inspirations are often inexplicable, we rarely discuss the aspirations. Sadly, as we age, making any kind of a style statement asks a little too much energy – the battle serving only as a nasty reminder of the merits that we once had.
But while we may write off anyone over the chasm of 30 as past their best in the style stakes, there are things that a certain few can teach us. Things a whole lot bigger than what you’ve just read.
There are always those few who seem to bypass judgement completely. Take the remarkable Kate Bush, the English singer-songwriter who recently made a comeback. At 56 (and counting), she bravely steamrollers on with her mission to reinvent. And that needs addressing – we must never forget those with such intellectual and artistic ambition. Their commitment to feminism and love of the playful, fanciful, provocative and eccentric should serve as a lesson to all of us.
In her heyday, what Bush ultimately achieved was drawing a closer parallel between fashion and art. Her artful approach to styling was far removed from the precise calculation and brand management that modern celebrities demand in pop culture.
Unlike the Lady Gagas of now, Bush had little interest in lucrative deals with the mega-brands. That’s why we love her. And the songs, of course.
Bush wore exactly what she wanted to wear, be it swirling white chiffon or metallic hotpants with a dagger tucked down the front – not (obviously) what those seemingly “in the know” told her to wear. Which is a great way to do things, even if I’m writing myself out of a job by saying so.
Finding the balance, feeling comfortable in our physical projection, working out the tough trick of being on-trend without being “trendy”, is the true success story here. There should always be room for enough interpretation and whim to experiment. Without interpretation, the individual would fail to exist.
The advice that we dish out so freely should be thought of as more of an encouraging hand, rather than a pointed finger. So when I screech from the rafters about this or that, I’m only trying to help forge some sort of model of resistance.
Our idols linger, often staying with us long after we first experience them, running hand in hand with romantic notion and melancholy, especially those who have helped form or influence our tastes. I’ll never forget the rush of dopamine that Bush brought to me as she twirled around with a giant cello in a leotard like an impish whirling dervish – as you will clearly recall those who have left their mark on you in a similarly vivid way.
Of course, Bush was a bit batty. As is Lady Gaga. We, on the other hand, are probably less so, so whatever we choose to love, let’s emulate rather than imitate. Because there’s nothing worse than a manufactured poseur.
ktrotter@thenational.ae
