No. Elastic. Waistbands. Ever.

(Except for leather pants)

As I write this, I’m thinking that I may get a wee bit of pushback on this subject. Yes, I realize this sounds a little extreme. And I appreciate how comfortable tensile and billowy clothes can be, but hear me out…my thesis stretches beyond the waistband.

Have you ever seen the kindly older lady in the grocery store wearing the color-coordinated floral print tunic/stretchy pant ensemble? Popular in light blue, mint green, and lilac palettes. Every time I see this ubiquitous symbol of aging I wonder where the tipping point was…when did that person decide to purchase that outfit instead of clothes they wore when they were younger? How does it happen? Is it a conscious sartorial decision…or is it a slow evolution that is so protracted that you aren’t even aware it’s happening?

I recognize they are striving to be pulled together and I applaud them for that. I think they look very sweet. But for me, these ensembles are a metaphor, a harbinger of feebleness. My aversion to them is what they represent. They’ve let the old in. This isn’t simply about how we look. This is about how we live and how we age.

While I’m no style icon (I’ve been known to wear the same outfits year in, year out), I wholeheartedly believe that clothes help set the tone for how we act and think about ourselves. Imagine you’re all dressed for a fancy wedding. Posture improves. You sit a little more gracefully. You comport yourself in a different manner. Manners and wittiness increase. You may even walk differently (depending on the comfort of your shoes). Clothes profoundly impact our thoughts and actions—which can extend to how we live our life.

A gateway to complacency
Although these lovely outfits may appear innocent enough, I think they are worth examining. I understand the practical and comfort aspect as it applies to being older (some of you may recall I took care of my mom for 13 years). Arthritic fingers may find it difficult to button and zip, and the extra weight typically attached with aging may make elastic much more forgiving and comfortable. I get it. But I see much younger women wearing (unfortunately often times more slovenly) versions of this comfort attire daily—it is the staple of their wardrobes. Although seemingly innocuous, it establishes a cascading pattern and mindset. I think to myself, “step number one onto the slippery slope of aging poorly.”

First, I am very cognizant of the importance of keeping my hands limber enough to button a pair of jeans and strong enough to grab the zipper tongue. I’ve written about my mom, who stopped even closing the cupboards so she didn’t have to pull them open. The more you do, the more you are able to do. Buttoning, pulling up zippers, and twisting open a lock may seem like inconsequential actions, but please trust me when I say the small things are the big things and they add up quickly. There is a point where people give in and give up; they stop doing daily tasks that they think are too difficult and those baby steps are the beginning of the end. I’ve lived it with my mom. I’m not doing it.

Second, I need accountability. Clothes that fit close to your body do that. I understand they aren’t as easy-breezy and comfortable. And frankly, I’m fine with that. Actually, I need that. I’m not one to have several sizes of pants in my closet depending on what the scale reads because that’s a permit to overindulge. If my jeans or slacks start to get uncomfortable, I know I need to regroup. This keeps me in check and mindful of Ageosophy’s first tenet—"Maintain a Moveable Weight”—which is the underpinning of aging well.

Third, I’ve seen a correlation between a person’s attitude towards life in general—which dictate actions—and what they wear. Whether it’s old or indifferent, it can be reflected in the choice of clothes. Personally, I’m a very simple dresser, I prefer classics that are timeless that don’t go out of style. Straightforward but current and (hopefully) never unkempt. My goal is to remain strong, healthy, and keep my mind active as I age. Clothes can influence and augment that frame of mind.

Mindset and decorum
So do I ever wear ultra-comfortable clothes? Yes, of course. There is a time and place for very relaxed clothes. Weekends, evenings, vacations, perhaps when you don’t feel well… I’m not unlike many people who change at the end of the day into what I call my “comfy clothes”—sweats and a trusted t-shirt or a house dress in warm months. But note the word “house” in a house dress. Even though I work at home, what I wear helps me shift my mindset. I confess I’m a uniform wearer at heart. I rely on the discipline it cultivates, especially as I get older and the tendency is to be a bit lazier. For instance, I wear exercise clothes only to exercise…I don’t wear them to the grocery store and you won’t find me in them at noon in front of my computer. (Early mornings maybe, but not too late.) During the weekdays I’m tailored casual. That morphs into a little more casual for Saturday errands, but not sloppy.

Additionally, I believe there is something to be said for maintaining a modicum of decorum as the years go by. We need to take pride in ourselves. It’s the first line of defense against lackadaisical thinking, which can lead to neglecting many aspects of our lives. I’ve noticed in my own life that if I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror when I’m wearing sad sack clothes, I realize I’m uncharacteristically slouching. My whole demeanor is off. I saw this parallel course in my mom’s life…the more her wardrobe shifted to only ultra-comfortable, frumpy clothes, her mindset shifted as well, and the less she cared about taking care of herself and her health…and then everything in her life started to slip.

A license to think and act old
To further put a point on this, I go back to a story I relayed in Don’t Let the Old In about when I was sitting with my neighbor (who has a very stretchy wardrobe) on her front porch stairs. At the time she was already on the path of poor health habits in general, and when she went to get up, she had a hard time rising and groaned “this is what 60 feels like.” I remember thinking, “No, it doesn’t have to be!” and as I am on the cusp of 62, I’m even more mortified by this attitude and line of thought.

Contrast that with a friend’s mom who is going to celebrate 90 this year. She frequently attends dances with friends, does her own gardening, takes care of her youngest granddaughter, regularly exercises, and is very mindful about what she eats…I’m always inspired when I spend time with her. I don’t think it’s a coincidence she typically has her hair coiffed and dresses very stylishly (usually in jeans), while I’m sad to say my neighbor has long given up on her hair and appearance, is plagued by age-related health issues, and doesn’t venture out very often.

So what about the leather pants?
Well, this is a silly side story. Last week was our school’s annual evening auction extravaganza. Essentially it’s the only fundraising event we do (we don’t sell frozen cookie dough or cheap wrapping paper); it’s the highlight of the school year and quite a shindig.

This year’s theme was “Sunset Safari” so I decided I’d go big or go home and wear something totally out of my comfort zone—a form-fitting, high-style, bold zebra-print long blouse that I ferreted out on ThredUp. (By the way, ThredUp is a great option for these “one-time-wear” events where you don’t want to spend a lot of money.) It verged on being a mini-skirt, which I’m not only several decades past wearing but I’ve got really unsightly knees that need to be covered, so I thought leather pants would be a great pairing…safari theme and all. I found a very inexpensive pair of “leather” pants that were a small petite, which is usually a big challenge, so I hurriedly added them to the cart before I lost them.

In my excited haste, I hadn’t read the description thoroughly because when they arrived, I discovered they were glorified leggings with—you guessed it—an elastic waistband. Arghh, here I’m writing about eschewing stretchy pants and I’m wearing them to the most important night of the year for our school…with what was essentially a tunic. Plus, I’m the event creative director to boot, so I’ve got a level of appearance to try to maintain. Good grief!

Luckily there are exceptions to every rule. Although this certainly won’t become a habit, I’m confident the ensemble was light years away from the matching set I’m bound and determined not to succumb to.

---