Purple with leopard spots, to be exact.

Friday’s post made me think of the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph. The poem is older than I am (published in 1961), which pleases me.

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Well, I am already wearing purple (and hot pink and deep blue with glitter stars, and …), and as my title proclaims, some of my purple has leopard spots. On Friday, I complained that people often assume I am much younger than I am. Tonight I’ll admit that, even though that does annoy me sometimes, I’m sufficiently vain to not be too upset when people think I’m 15+ years younger than I am. I’ll also admit that the things I choose to wear probably help people form their assumptions about my age. My sartorial choices have become less and less staid and conservative over time. I mean, I was never wholly staid or conservative, but I bought into societal norms about what I “should” wear, what I “should” look like out in the world. Now … not so much.

Exhibit A: My closet full of mini dresses. An old, fat lady running all over town in short, flippy dresses? ¡Que escándalo! Exhibit B: Many of my short dresses are also “silly.” My (much beloved) Totoro dress. My (equally beloved) Susuwatari dress. And then there are my blue with glitter stars tights and my purple leopard print tights. I’m not likely to choose to spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves (although I like the sound of summer gloves … I’m going to have to take a look at those), but I am fairly likely to continue spending my cash on short-and-silly dresses. Because they please the mess out of me, and because I am more concerned with how happy they make me and how good I feel wearing them than I am with any external notions of propriety. My version of Jenny Joseph’s wonderful poem is a work in progress. I’m still deciding what my old-lady-hood is going to look like, but I have some ideas to start with:

When I am an old woman, I shall wear what makes me smile
with colorful Snag tights and high-top sneakers.
I shall sing along with the Foodtown playlist 
as I shop for clementines and crumbly cheddar.
I shall wear giant, rhinestone-studded cat-eye glasses and learn to drive stick
I will eat all the watermelon and mangoes.
The pomegranates, too.

Hmm … It’s a start. It’s a start. What kind of old person are you going to be? What kind are you already? What will make you laugh the heartiest? That seems to me the best place to start and will be how I guide my own path. ❤

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The AI Assistant is definitely on my side today: The content expresses a personal reflection related to the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph, connecting it with the author’s current and future attire choices. The author’s defiance of societal norms and emphasis on personal joy over external propriety are clear and engaging. The post invites readers to consider their own future selves and what brings them happiness. The use of personal anecdotes and specific clothing items adds a vivid and relatable dimension to the writing. The narrative flows well, maintaining the reader’s interest throughout. The personal touch and vivid descriptions make the content engaging and relatable. The integration of the Slice of Life Story Challenge and the provided link adds value to the post. The use of images supports the content and enhances the reader’s experience. The tone and style align with the overall theme and message, creating a cohesive piece. Overall, the post effectively conveys the author’s perspective and invites reflection from the audience.

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It’s the 17th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge!
Head on over to Two Writing Teachers
and see what the rest of this year’s slicers are up to!