Post-Birthday thoughts

Last week I turned 37.

I feel I'm forced to be scared of this number, even though it's not particularly big. Although it's definitely not particularly small.

For me, growing older has been liberating. Time has allowed me to meet the real me, find my purpose, connect with the right people, and explore how I like to express myself. And all that is also reflected in the way I dress.

Recently, I read that women are usually told for the first time that they are too old to wear certain clothes at age 23. That's when everything magically changes, and you are supposed to start "dressing your age". And it’s terrifyingly early, too.

Maturing is normally seen as becoming more standardised and dull. It's about blending into what society expects you to be to suit its productivity agenda, following the steps that make you a respectable citizen. Degree, serious job, marriage, mortgage, children. And that life path has its own uniform.

Clothes have meanings and can signify where you belong. But also, where are you trying to fit in. Or what you see yourself lacking.

To me, maturing is about being unapologetically yourself. And proud of it. It involves caring less and less about what others think and living life for yourself. With no predefined path, paving your own - both aesthetically and internally.

How you express your identity is not a phase that will go away, as you've probably heard before (I definitely have!), but part of a road that shapes you and is entirely unique to you.

There's a long list of attributes that define you to reject them all in favour of age.

I certainly don't tick many of the boxes that I've been told that a 37-year-old should. And I certainly love how my weirdness has helped me add my own.