You faltered

Was it my gold sequins? Electric pink lipstick? Maybe my high-heel biker boots. Whatever it was, it caught your eye - and your imagination - and you faltered. I saw it. You were thinking - and you may have even told me - that you wish you could wear what I'm wearing but you couldn't possibly "pull it off."

Dear, oh dear.

"Get away with it" and "pull it off" - that's what bank robbers and hard-core criminals say when they've pulled a job and eluded the coppers. But now it usually refers to the daring of wearing a splodge of aubergine with - gasp! - orange. Have our standards of risk-taking sunk to such lows?

How did we get from bank-robbing to clashing colours as criminal behaviour? What does this say about our standards? What's next? Your partner brings home some laundry detergent and you offer a night of wild sexual favours in return? (Okay ---, I know this is de rigeur for you, but for everyone else, you know what I'm saying?)

One day I bumped into a friend while I was shopping and we ended up talking about style, as usual. He dresses for New York; I dress for wherever I happened to land that day, so we have a lot in common. I was whining about the lack of magazines for deviant women over 50, especially in Canada, and how our preeminent magazine for that demographic, targeted to "boomers with zip," was definitely NOT FOR ME.



To give you an example, it has a SPIRIT section which features: happiness, faith, obituaries, nostalgia/humour. There is excessive coverage of British royals and Hollywood from news feeds and an emphasis on getting Canadian seniors to sign up for CARP, the Canadian Association of Retired Persons. So now we're simply known as fish, bottom-feeders at that. That's something to carp about (bwahaha, couldn't help myself). [Edit: The mag has been slightly revamped and the obits are gone. Genius move!]

Wearing "Dressed to Piss You Off" T-shirt made for me by Suzanne Carillo, maxi denim coat she scouted for me at Talize thrift store, psychedelic tights, low heel ankle boots, and jewels, JEWELS! 

He suggested that I write up a pitch for the kind of magazine I'd like to see, and although I knew our banter was more sport than business, I decided to do the exercise anyway. Here's what I came up with:

Anna Wintour on crack in paint-splattered vintage bell bottoms and a frayed sequin halter top, shrieking, "Stop telling me what to do!" An anti-style-bullying magazine for boomer/Gen X women gone wild, and a sexy, fun flirtation with the wild side for armchair fashionistas. Ba-bye retirement planning, hello hellcats.

I'm going to hook this up with:

Anne at SpyGirl, 52 Pick-me-up: Aqua, Vanity, Transformation

Patti at Not Dead Yet Style, Visible Monday

Cathering at Not Dressed as Lamb, #iwillwearwhatilike. 

I haven't been making the rounds as I hoped - too much work!! But I glance through. You guys are schtellar. You're all schtars, I tell you! It's the colour on the inside that counts!