There’s a girl in my art history class who always looks so put together. She wears really great scarves, gold jewelry (nothing too flashy, always tastefully antiqued), cozy looking sweaters, and fabulous tortoiseshell glasses. Her look is very classic and very now, but there’s only one way I can think to describe it: grandma chic. She dresses like an old lady.
Just to clarify, I’m not talking about grannies who wear pleather slippers and coffee-stained muumuus. I’m talking about those old ladies you see in museum restaurants, chatting with their equally elegant, equally elderly girlfriends while wearing silk scarves knotted at their throats and heirloom rings gracing their gnarly hands. Those are the grannies I aspire to look like.
These ladies have seen it all, but more importantly, they’ve tried it all on. They’ve worn the pencil skirts of the 30s and 40s, the cocktail dresses of the 50s. They sported the plaids and mustards of the 60s and 70s, tried out the shoulder pads of the 80s, and suffocated in the turtlenecks of the 90s. They’re old, they’re wise, and they know what works. The only article of clothing in their wardrobes I wouldn’t borrow is their shoes—my young feet can still handle heels.
As much as I love this look, I used to worry that by not wearing trendy outfits that will be out of style in a month, I was missing out on the fun of being young and experimental. Also, if I look like someone’s grandmother at 20, what will I look like at 75?
Actually, I decided that one long ago. I figure that once I’ve reached senior discount age, I’ll definitely care much less about what people think of my appearance. I plan to use the winter of my life to go nuts with huge floppy straw hats, big necklaces of carved wooden safari animals, and as many baggy flax dresses as my fixed income allows for. The only snag in my plan to pursue classy old-age fashion early is that Hermès scarves and antique bangles cost a pretty penny—accumulating the elements of a granny chic wardrobe is not easy on a bank account. While I should probably wait to invest in such items until I’m not in danger of spilling Natty Light on them every weekend, I just can’t wait. I want to look old, and I want to look old now.
Katherine is over the river and through the woods at kln7@georgetown.edu.
