We Fell For Style Early. Then We Learned To Use It.

by Karen and Erica

A friend just sent us this fabulous article about a dress—the Mondrian dress by Yves Saint Laurent. Oh, we loved that dress. It was genius—even made it into the Metropolitan Museum.

We wore a version of that dress in the 60s, just as we were starting to learn about style. You probably did too. To this day we remember it how it looked on us, and how proud we were of the white go-go boots we wore with it. We thought we were the bee’s knees. All the boys loved us! At least so we believed.

Our style changed in college—Erica donning pastel shifts and sweater sets, heels and fishnets. Karen wore only bellbottom jeans, work shirts and construction boots. And hair down to her derrière.

Law school did not improve the picture much. Nor did our first law jobs. We had to wear suits. Skirt suits, of course, in navy or black or gray, and white shirts with floppy bowties, and little black pumps. Clunky brown briefcases rounded out the look. The idea was to appear as much like men as possible, in the hopes we would slip into our careers without anyone noticing we were women.

Style was in hiding. But deep inside, style began to demand attention.

Eventually, we got really bored with being mini men. Yves Saint Laurent’s vision reasserted itself. We began to come out as women. We still wore a lot of suits—and they were still skirt suits. (It took a few more decades to break out pants suits.) But now our suits were in jeweled colors, or wide stripes, or slinky silk. Wearing a suit sent the message we understood the game. Wearing a distinctly woman’s suit sent the message we were going to change the game.

Then we took it to the next level. Dresses. Diane von Furstenberg’s wrap dresses became our armor. Beautiful patterns, stretchy fabric that could be worn tighter or looser depending on the state of our diets. Sexy, but professional!

As we grew more confident in our careers, our clothes got more adventurous. Erica went to board meetings in a fabulous suit with large red flowers all over it. Karen went to court in pink polka dots—which prompted court reporters to expand the array of colored pencils they brought to hearings. Our clothes were still our armor, and they still sent a message. Now the message was—we have changed the world. We knew we now belonged, and we wanted to be seen for who we were.

Time flew by. We have now retired from our law jobs. We don’t really need armor in the same way any more. But we do need an image, and it has to be good. Too many designers seem to think women over forty are happy looking dowdy and dumpy. Many seem to think there are no women over 65—or that they want to dress as if they were teenagers. COVID’s lockdown has done nothing to help.

We’re going to change the game again. We are not yesterday’s retirees—who wouldn’t have worn dresses anyway. We are state-of-the-art, we are vital, we have people to see and things to do. We need clothes that speak to our lives now. We are women of experience, healthy and active, with long runways ahead of us. We want clothes that respect who we are, that respect the environment, that respect the people who make them. Fabrics that are new and different. Styles that translate experience into glamor. Elegance on the move.

We want clothes that send today’s message—we’re still here, we’re not done, and we’re dressed for engagement.