An illustrated letter about dressing for the life you enjoy

At 67, I nearly gave up our Saturday markets because I couldn't find anything I wanted to wear. My daughter asked why getting dressed had become such hard work.

There is a little Saturday market not far from where I live that I've been visiting for the better part of fifteen years.

It's the sort of place where you can buy homemade jam, look at handmade pottery, talk to someone about their garden and come home with three things you didn't know you needed.

I've always loved it.

But last month, I nearly told my daughter Claire that I didn't want to go anymore.

Not because I had lost interest in the market.

Quite the opposite.

I still loved the stalls, the people and the whole business of wandering around without being in any particular hurry.

The problem was what I had begun putting myself through before leaving the house.

I'd try on my usual jeans.

Then decide the waistband was going to bother me after lunch.

I'd change into a pair of smarter pants, only to remember how stiff they felt when I bent down to look at something on a lower shelf.

Then I'd put on an old pair of loose pants and spend ten minutes trying to find a top that made them look like something other than gardening clothes.

By the time Claire came to collect me, there would be clothes scattered across the bedroom and I'd be in a thoroughly unpleasant mood.

The last time this happened, I told her perhaps we should skip the market.

She looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"Mom, you've been looking forward to this all week."

I told her I couldn't find anything suitable to wear.

She looked past me at the clothes on the bed.

Then she asked something that made me stop.

"Mom, why are you getting dressed as though you're going to a formal lunch? We're going to look at pottery and buy vegetables."

I laughed.

But the annoying thing was, she was absolutely right.

I was sixty-seven years old, trying to dress according to rules I'd been following for forty years.

And those rules were beginning to take the pleasure out of an ordinary Saturday.

I'm writing this because I suspect there are other women over sixty-five who understand.

We still want to look nicely dressed.

But we no longer want to spend an entire afternoon wearing something that requires us to sit, stand and move in a particular way.

And somewhere between looking presentable and feeling relaxed, I've spent years wondering why the two things couldn't simply belong together.

How my wardrobe became so serious

When I was younger, I had clothes for every occasion.

Work pants.

Weekend jeans.

Something smart for lunch with friends.

And something old for getting things done around the house.

It was all perfectly sensible.

But over the years, I began carrying those same little categories into retirement.

I'd reach for jeans because we were going out.

Then I'd spend half the day wishing the waistband wasn't quite so firm.

Or I'd wear something loose enough to move comfortably, then worry that I looked as though I hadn't bothered getting dressed properly.

I had somehow decided that looking presentable meant choosing something structured.

A proper waistband.

Neat pants.

A blouse tucked in just so.

And the funny thing was that none of those things made a particularly big difference to anybody else.

Claire wasn't measuring the width of my pant legs.

The woman selling tomatoes certainly wasn't interested in whether my blouse was tucked in.

And the ladies at the pottery stall were far more concerned with explaining how they'd made their bowls than with what I had on.

But I was still getting dressed as though I had somewhere important to prove myself.

At sixty-seven.

For a Saturday market.

It sounds rather ridiculous written down.

And perhaps it was.

What I had wrong about relaxed clothing

After that conversation with Claire, I began thinking about the clothes I actually enjoyed wearing.

Not the things that looked best hanging in the wardrobe.

The things I reached for on the days when I wanted to get on with living.

I liked soft, roomy pants.

I liked having somewhere to put my glasses and keys.

I liked clothes that didn't need rearranging every time I sat down.

And I liked having enough room to move without feeling as though the fabric was pulling across my middle.

None of that sounded particularly unreasonable.

But whenever I went shopping, I seemed to forget those things.

I'd choose something that looked neatly tailored in a photograph.

Then wonder why I never wanted to wear it for the activities I actually enjoyed.

Perhaps I'd been asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking whether something looked smart enough, I needed to ask whether it suited the way I spent my days.

And after years of insisting that harem-style pants were too unusual for someone my age, I began wondering whether perhaps I ought to look at them properly before deciding.

The jumpsuit I would once have walked straight past

A few evenings later, I was browsing Novira Dallas when I came across something called the Wren.

The full name was Wren Bohemian Harem Jumpsuit.

And I can almost hear my younger self saying that it wasn't something I'd ever wear.

Harem pants?

At sixty-seven?

Surely not.

But then I looked at the photographs.

It was a soft taupe-beige color, with beautiful dark embroidery arranged across the front in an almost triangular pattern.

There were wide shoulder straps, a gently gathered shape through the middle and roomy legs that narrowed towards the ankles.

And the pockets.

Goodness, the pockets.

Two generous pockets at the front, with additional utility-style pocket details lower down the legs.

It looked like something made for a woman who wanted to move around, carry her little things and enjoy an ordinary day.

Not something that demanded she stand perfectly still.

There was something unusual about the embroidery, too.

It gave the outfit a little personality without needing enormous earrings, a necklace or a complicated jacket.

I kept going back to the photograph.

Then I showed Claire.

She looked at it and said, "Mom, that actually looks exactly like the sort of thing you'd enjoy wearing."

I reminded her that I was sixty-seven.

She asked whether the jumpsuit had an age restriction.

It did not.

So I looked a little more carefully.

When I considered how the design might work with my everyday clothes, I began to understand why Claire liked it.

It wasn't a sharply tailored outfit.

It wasn't trying to look like formal pants.

It was something entirely different.

And perhaps that was exactly what I needed.

The part that mattered more than the unusual shape

I've become much more particular about clothes over the years.

I don't enjoy fitted waistbands the way I once did.

I like being able to sit through lunch without feeling that I need to loosen something.

And I appreciate clothing that has room through the hips and legs.

But I don't want everything I wear to look like pajamas, either.

That is a much narrower gap than it sounds.

The Wren interested me because the roomy shape was actually part of the design.

The harem-style legs weren't accidentally baggy.

They were deliberately cut to fall loosely, gathering towards the ankles.

The shoulder straps could be adjusted rather than sitting at one fixed length.

And the embroidery gave the upper part a little structure and character.

There were small details I particularly liked.

The dark patterned embroidery against the beige fabric.

The adjustable buckles on the straps.

The generous patch pockets.

And the way the legs tapered at the bottom instead of continuing all the way down like enormous wide-leg pants.

I could imagine wearing it with simple sandals on a warm day.

Or with a fine long-sleeved top underneath and a cardigan when the Texas autumn air became cooler.

Not for every temperature, obviously.

A lightweight jumpsuit isn't winter clothing.

But for milder days, I liked the idea of being able to layer it rather than putting it away entirely once September was over.

The store describes the fabric as a lightweight, breathable blend.

That sounded sensible for the warmer part of the year.

And the overall style was relaxed enough that I began to think about how I might actually wear it.

Not to a wedding.

Not to some grand occasion.

Just to the places I genuinely wanted to go.

The Saturday I finally tried something different

The next time Claire and I planned to visit the market, I decided to stop making such a production of getting dressed.

It was a pleasant autumn morning, with the sort of cool air that makes you glad you've brought an extra layer but doesn't yet require a heavy coat.

I wanted something relaxed for wandering around the stalls.

Something that didn't feel like work pants.

And something that looked like I'd chosen it deliberately, rather than simply finding the loosest thing in my wardrobe.

The Wren gave me a different idea of what that could look like.

I tried the simple combination I'd been imagining.

The jumpsuit, a soft layer underneath for the cooler weather and comfortable shoes.

I didn't need a belt to make the outfit look finished.

I didn't need a separate blouse tucked into pants.

And I didn't need to worry about finding something decorative to add to the top, because the black embroidery already gave it plenty of interest.

I laid it over the wooden chair while I gathered my handbag and keys.

And I remember thinking how different the whole outfit looked from the things I'd been wearing for years.

Not younger.

Not particularly fashionable.

Just different in a way that appealed to me.

When Claire arrived, she looked at me and smiled.

"Well, that's a change."

I told her I'd decided to stop dressing for a Saturday market as though I were going to the bank for an important appointment.

She laughed.

"About time."

Daughters do enjoy those moments.

What happened at the market

We arrived just after ten.

The stalls were already busy, and there was that lovely smell of coffee and fresh bread coming from the little food stand near the entrance.

There were pumpkins stacked beside baskets of apples, handmade pottery on wooden shelves and scarves in every autumn color you could imagine.

I stopped at a stall selling handmade soaps.

Then we looked at some beautiful wooden serving boards.

Then Claire decided she needed another little plant, even though her kitchen windowsill is already full of them.

It was exactly the sort of ordinary Saturday I enjoy.

And I wasn't wishing I'd dressed for some completely different occasion.

I liked the idea of having a loose shape through the legs while browsing and bending to look at things on lower tables.

I liked the generous pockets for the little items I usually spend half my morning searching for.

And I liked not having a tightly tailored outfit that felt out of place among all those relaxed market stalls.

About halfway through, Claire asked whether I wanted to stop for coffee.

Of course I did.

We found somewhere to sit, ordered two coffees and shared a little pastry that neither of us really needed.

Then she asked whether I was enjoying myself.

I told her very much.

And she gave me that look daughters give their mothers when they believe they've proved a point.

I told her she didn't need to look quite so pleased.

She laughed.

But I suppose she had earned it.

The comment that stayed with me

Later that morning, we stopped at a stall selling handmade jewelry.

The woman behind the table had beautiful silver earrings and little bracelets arranged on a linen cloth.

She noticed the embroidery on the jumpsuit and said she liked the pattern.

I thanked her.

She asked where I'd found it.

I told her Novira Dallas.

Then she said something I found rather interesting.

"It's nice to see something with a bit of personality."

That was the word I'd been looking for.

Personality.

I had spent so long trying to choose clothes that were sensible, appropriate and completely unobjectionable that I'd forgotten I still liked a little character in what I wore.

Not enormous patterns everywhere.

Not anything particularly extravagant.

Just a detail that made an ordinary outfit feel a little more interesting.

And the Wren's embroidered front had exactly that quality.

I wasn't trying to stand out.

I simply wanted to enjoy what I was wearing.

Why the pockets became my favorite detail

I'll tell you something that may sound rather unromantic.

At sixty-seven, pockets have become one of the first things I look for when buying everyday clothes.

I am forever putting my reading glasses somewhere and then spending ten minutes trying to remember where.

Sometimes they're in my handbag.

Sometimes on the kitchen table.

Occasionally, they're sitting on top of my head while I search the entire house.

Claire finds that particularly amusing.

So I appreciate pockets.

Proper ones.

Not the tiny decorative kind that can barely hold a tissue.

The Wren has large front pockets and additional cargo-style details along the legs.

And I like that they belong to the design rather than looking as though somebody added them afterwards.

It gives the jumpsuit a practical, slightly adventurous appearance.

Not exactly the sort of thing I would once have considered elegant.

But I've begun to think elegance doesn't always need to look polished and formal.

Sometimes it's simply looking comfortable in what you've chosen.

Three things I've learned about getting dressed after 65

One. Relaxed doesn't have to mean shapeless. I'd spent years thinking loose pants were only suitable for being around the house. A deliberately designed harem silhouette, with adjustable straps and embroidered detailing, can have character without relying on a stiff waistband.

Two. The clothes we enjoy should suit the things we actually do. I love weekend markets, casual coffee dates and browsing little shops. There's no reason to dress for those activities as though I'm going to a formal occasion.

Three. Getting older doesn't mean giving up unusual styles. I wouldn't have considered a bohemian jumpsuit ten years ago. Now I think it's worth looking at something properly before deciding it isn't suitable simply because I'm sixty-seven.

That last one has surprised me.

I used to imagine that getting older meant gradually narrowing your wardrobe.

Fewer colors.

Fewer styles.

Fewer things that might attract attention.

But I don't really know who made that rule.

And I'm beginning to think I don't need to follow it.

Why I liked the embroidered beige

There is something lovely about soft, earthy colors in autumn.

The leaves outside are turning gold and brown.

The shops are full of knitted cardigans and warmer tones.

And I've always liked neutral colors that can be worn with the things I already own.

The Wren's taupe-beige fabric works beautifully with its dark embroidery.

That contrast is really the whole point of the design.

The upper part has a lovely ornamental pattern, while the rest of the jumpsuit is fairly understated.

It doesn't need much styling.

Simple shoes.

A plain top underneath when the weather calls for it.

Perhaps a cardigan.

And you're dressed for an ordinary day out.

I don't need a matching handbag or a new jacket just to make the outfit work.

And that matters to me.

I've accumulated enough clothes over the years.

These days I would rather choose a few things that I actually enjoy wearing than keep filling the wardrobe with outfits I never reach for.

About the price

I want to mention the price properly, because it's something I always check before buying anything online.

Novira Dallas currently lists the Wren Bohemian Harem Jumpsuit at $69.95 USD, with a displayed comparison price of $174.00 USD.

That's an advertised saving of approximately sixty percent.

It is a substantial reduction, and I would encourage you to look at the actual design and measurements rather than ordering simply because something is on sale.

The Wren is described as having a lightweight breathable fabric blend, adjustable shoulder straps, a relaxed harem fit and decorative embroidery across the bodice.

It also has large functional pockets.

The sizes run from S through 3XL.

I'd check the size guide carefully before choosing.

With a jumpsuit, it's important to consider more than just the usual dress size.

The length of the body matters.

The shoulder straps need to adjust appropriately.

And the gathered lower legs should sit where you want them to.

Some women may also prefer a different pant shape altogether, which is perfectly reasonable.

Novira Dallas currently advertises free tracked delivery across the United States.

Orders are generally prepared within one to two business days, with typical delivery estimated at seven to fourteen business days.

The store also lists a thirty-day return period from delivery, subject to its return conditions.

I would read those conditions before ordering.

For me, the appeal of the Wren is the combination of a relaxed one-piece outfit, useful pockets, adjustable straps and decorative embroidery.

It's something different from the pants I'd been buying for years.

And I like that.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you and I were sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea between us, and you told me you had stopped enjoying certain outings because you never seemed to have anything comfortable and presentable to wear, I would understand completely.

I nearly gave up our Saturday markets for exactly that reason.

Not because I was tired of the stalls.

Not because I didn't enjoy spending time with Claire.

But because I had convinced myself that looking properly dressed required clothes that didn't suit the way I actually wanted to spend the day.

And after years of buying the same sorts of pants, I hadn't thought to consider anything different.

The Wren may not be everybody's style.

Some women prefer fitted pants.

Others dislike harem legs.

And some may not enjoy wearing jumpsuits at all.

There's nothing wrong with knowing what you prefer.

But I do think there's a difference between choosing something because you genuinely love it and choosing it because you've decided you're too old to consider anything else.

At sixty-seven, I've begun questioning that second kind of decision.

I like things that feel relaxed.

I like having somewhere to put my glasses.

And I still appreciate an interesting bit of embroidery or a design with some personality.

That hasn't changed simply because I've had another birthday.

If you like loose, bohemian clothing and want an alternative to the same jeans and pants you've been wearing for years, the Wren is worth a closer look.

Study the photographs.

Check the measurements.

Think about whether the adjustable straps, roomy shape and tapered legs would work for you.

And consider the weather you'll be wearing it in, because lightweight clothes aren't suitable for every Texas season without layering.

I can't promise it will be your favorite outfit.

But sometimes it's worth trying something different.

Especially when the alternative is spending another Saturday morning turning the bedroom upside down before an outing you were supposed to enjoy.

Claire has already suggested we visit the market again next weekend.

I told her I'd be delighted.

And this time, I have no intention of spending half the morning deciding whether I look properly dressed enough to buy a jar of jam.

At 67, I've stopped dressing for imaginary occasions. I'd rather wear something that lets me enjoy the Saturday I'm actually having.

Catharine