I’m not going to be Iris Apfel

Iris Apfel, 90, and still looking amazing

I bought new sunglasses today and in the process I had a shocking revelation.

At no time soon, am I going to come close to being Iris Apfel.

That is to say, I tried on some frames approximately 50% of the scale of those pictured above and rejected them immediately they made contact with my face. ‘But they are so ‘IN’ said the optometrist. ‘I have a pair like that’. I re-shelved them as fast as I had picked them up. Essentially I am a chicken. I have my moments of ‘look at me’ but this was not one of them. I came away with modest, tortoiseshell, ordinary sized frames. Before you give up on my completely, I painted my nails blue this afternoon. OPI. Hardcore bright blue. That will last for two days, till I catch myself and it will be gone. (I know, it’s just blue. And it is absolutely nothing to do with the Cutex Blue Opal we used to wear at school.)

Fashion daring, I do not possess. Fantastic at 90? It is debatable whether I will ever get there. I mean, I freak out if I am wearing too much print. By too much, I mean, any, at all.

I will however, have my own hair. I can, at least, whether through sheer laziness, or aversion to the endless wasted time at the hairdresser, claim to have my natural hair colour. All the grey achieve through hard work and ageing. Just pray that when I get my eyes tested on Wednesday that I don’t need reading glasses, or else I shall have to choose ghastly boring reading glasses and disappoint myself all over again.

Are you courageous and fashion daring? Tell me your tricks.