Suddenly, the clothes that I once coveted seem far too young, and even more depressingly, the sizes seem to have got smaller. The last time I went into some of my favourite high-street fashion chains after several years away from the UK, I suddenly felt old and fat - with the fact that I have gone up two dresses sizes since my 40s doing nothing for the ego. And, is it just me or do the sales assistants seem to be getting younger and, even more annoyingly, thinner?
In many of these shops I found it difficult even to find a size to fit, and when I did dare try some thing on, the cut and the fabric did me no favours. Feeling bad enough as it was, having to look at my expanding girth in the mirror, my bad humour was further compounded by the fact that overzealous assistants kept asking “How are you getting on?” I also hate it when they pull back the curtain and reveal my figure flaws in all their glory – with me looking like a stuffed sausage in a size 14, whilst they look fantastic in their size 6. And as for trying to find a “nice” dress with sleeves to cover those bingo wings, well forget it!
Therefore, now I’m in my 50s I've decided it is time to decamp to more more-age friendly labels such as those fashion concessions found in more upmarket department stores, where the quality of fabric is kinder to the body, but the price tag is not kinder to the purse.
Even here, many of the sales consultants seem young by comparison to the target market, and have the annoying habit of pouncing on you, the moment you walk into the sales area. And, if you dare to spend more than a few seconds looking at a garment, they take this as a green light to give you a full on sales pitch.
Now, I am one of those iritating shoppers who just likes to browse in peace and if I want help, I’ll ask for it. Nothing will send me scurrying away quicker than being leapt on the moment I set foot in the department. Having said this though, I know that is unfair, as having worked in fashion retailing myself, companies are very sales-oriented nowadays and sales consultants are under tremendous pressure to approach customers.
Another pet hate is fitting rooms. Either they are so small that you can’t move (I hate it when they don’t have a seat - especially when you are trying on jeans), or so hot that, after breaking out in a sweat I give up and leave. There is one particular fashion store in my home town, which, every winter, has its fitting room area so warm that I want to pass out.
Am I the only woman in my 50s, that feels that whilst I still haven’t given up on fashion, when I go shopping for clothes I feel fashion has given up on me?