Look, I’m gonna be honest here – I’ve been buying into some pretty lazy stereotypes about how women over 50 dress, and it’s been bugging me for months. You know those fashion features that show up every so often? The ones with headlines like “Elegant Styles for the Mature Woman” that are basically just shapeless tunics in that weird purple-gray color that doesn’t look good on anyone? Yeah, those.
My wake-up call came last month when my mom – who’s 68 and has better style than most fashion bloggers I follow – sent me a screenshot of one of these articles with the caption “Do they think we all lose our minds at menopause?” She wasn’t wrong. The outfits looked like they’d been designed by someone who’d never actually met a woman over 50, just had some vague idea that they all wanted to disappear into beige linen and sensible shoes.
So naturally, being me, I decided I needed to investigate this properly. Not by looking at some market research report or scrolling through Instagram accounts of perfectly styled women who happen to be over 50 (love them, but let’s be real, most of us don’t have their budgets or lighting). I wanted to know what regular women – you know, the ones with actual lives and normal wardrobes – are really wearing.
My first attempt at research was… questionable. I planted myself in the John Lewis café on a Saturday afternoon with a notebook, thinking I’d do some casual people-watching. Three hours later, a security guard politely asked what I was doing, and apparently “fashion anthropology” while scribbling notes about strangers’ jewelry choices sounds way more suspicious than I thought it would. Fair point, honestly.
Plan B was more straightforward – I just started asking women. My mom’s friends, older colleagues, the women at my local book club, basically anyone over 50 who wouldn’t think I was completely unhinged for wanting to discuss their wardrobe choices. I expected to have to convince people to talk to me, but turns out women over 50 have OPINIONS about fashion, and they’re thrilled when someone actually asks to hear them.
What I discovered completely blew apart everything I thought I knew about how women dress as they get older. First off – and this should’ve been obvious – they’re not all dressing the same way. The idea that hitting 50 triggers some kind of collective style lobotomy is ridiculous. These women have spent decades figuring out what works for them, and they’re not about to throw it all away for some magazine editor’s idea of “age-appropriate” dressing.
Take my mom’s friend Carol. She’s 72, and she’s basically been wearing the same formula for twenty years: black jeans, white shirts, blazers in every color you can imagine, and either Stan Smiths or low block heels depending on the occasion. Her hair is this gorgeous silver bob that she gets cut religiously every four weeks, and she wears red lipstick every single day. When I asked if she ever felt like she should switch things up because of her age, she looked at me like I’d suggested she start wearing her clothes backwards. “I found what works decades ago,” she said. “Why would I mess with perfection just because some magazine thinks I need purple jersey now?”
Then there’s Judith, who used to be my boss. At 65, she’s basically living in COS with the occasional Margaret Howell piece thrown in for special occasions. Everything’s black or navy, super minimal, architectural in that way that makes you feel underdressed even when you’re trying. I asked her about dressing “age-appropriately” and she actually laughed at me. “Appropriate for what, exactly? Every morning I put on clothes that suit my mood and my plans. I’ve never once stood in front of my closet thinking ‘is this too young for me?’ That would be insane.”
My book club research turned up Sarah, who’s 58 and wears almost exclusively vintage clothing from the ’40s and ’50s. Not in a costume way – she’s not walking around looking like she’s headed to a themed party – but these incredible tailored dresses and blouses with amazing details that you just don’t see in modern clothes. “Current fashion isn’t designed for actual women’s bodies,” she told me. “Vintage pieces were made for women with curves. Plus the quality is better. At this stage of my life, everything in my closet needs to earn its keep.”
What hit me hardest was how confident these women are about their style choices. They know what works for them. They’re not chasing every trend, but they’re not completely ignoring fashion either – they’re just more selective about what they pay attention to. It’s this kind of clarity that I’m still working toward at 35, honestly.
The shopping thing was interesting too. Yeah, some of them shop at M&S and John Lewis – places that get stereotyped as “older women” stores – but not in the departments you’d expect. Lynne, who’s 63 and used to be a lawyer, buys her jeans from the regular M&S collection (“not the section they try to shuffle you toward when they think you’re past it”), then mixes them with Equipment shirts and &Daughter sweaters. Oh, and she has a sneaker collection that would make my 25-year-old brother jealous.
“Never shop where you think you’re supposed to shop,” she told me. “The minute you start thinking ‘this brand is for women my age,’ you’re doomed.”
The whole concept of “age-appropriate” dressing was met with everything from confusion to outright irritation. Meena, who’s 54, put it perfectly: “Appropriate for what? For who? I dress to feel good about myself. Sometimes that’s jeans and a nice top for school pickup – I’ve got teenagers – sometimes it’s a dress that shows some cleavage because I’m going out with my husband. The only inappropriate thing is telling women what they should wear based on some random number.”
I mean, these women aren’t completely ignoring their changing bodies – that would be weird too. Several mentioned small adjustments over the years, maybe higher necklines here or more structured support there. But they talked about it as evolution, not some dramatic wardrobe overhaul at 50. Nobody described throwing out their entire closet and starting fresh with sensible shoes and elastic waists.
“My style has evolved as I’ve gotten older, but so has my taste in wine and books,” said Diane, who’s 61 and was wearing these gorgeous wide-leg Whistles trousers when we met. “You refine things, you don’t reinvent yourself from scratch.”
About those elastic waists that apparently define mature fashion – they do exist in these wardrobes, but not in the tragic polyester trouser form that fashion media seems obsessed with. Instead, I saw beautifully cut pieces from Me+Em and COS and Toast that happen to be comfortable as well as stylish. Helen, who’s 57, summed it up: “Why would I wear uncomfortable clothes? Life’s too short. But comfortable doesn’t have to mean ugly.”
Shopping habits have definitely changed though. Almost everyone I talked to mentioned being more thoughtful about purchases, buying less but buying better. Fast fashion barely registered – most were focused on well-made pieces in good fabrics that’ll last for years. Not necessarily designer stuff (though some did invest in luxury pieces), just quality clothing that justifies its place in the wardrobe.
“I used to buy something new for every event,” Rachel, 59, told me. “Now I have this core collection of really beautiful pieces that I mix and match constantly. It’s better for the environment, and honestly, it’s more fun.”
That sustainability angle came up a lot. These women remember when clothes were expensive, when their mothers sewed, when you bought things to last. They’re going back to those values but also looking forward, thinking about environmental impact in a way that puts most of us younger shoppers to shame.
Where do they get inspiration? Not from magazines targeting their age group, that’s for sure. Those got universally trashed as patronizing and outdated. Instead, they mentioned Instagram, blogs by women with similar style sensibilities (not necessarily similar ages), regular fashion magazines they’ve been reading for years, and – most often – each other.
“I get way more ideas from seeing what my friends wear than from any magazine,” said Pam, who’s 68. I met her in Liberty wearing trainers, wide-leg jeans, and this vintage men’s shirt that looked absolutely perfect on her. “We share tips, tell each other when something’s not working, get excited when one of us finds the perfect whatever. It’s the best kind of fashion inspiration.”
The overwhelming message from all these conversations was that women over 50 are dressing entirely for themselves, with a kind of confidence that honestly made me a bit jealous. They’ve stopped worrying about external expectations and embraced this clarity that comes from decades of figuring out what actually works for their bodies and their lives.
“The best part about being this age,” said Jean, who’s 74 and was wearing this incredible cobalt blue boilersuit when we had tea, “is that I genuinely don’t care what anyone thinks about my clothes. I dress to make myself happy. Do you know how liberating that is?”
I’m starting to. And it’s made me look at my own closet completely differently. How much stuff do I own because I think I’m supposed to? How many trends am I following that don’t actually bring me any joy? What would my style look like if it was guided purely by what makes me feel good instead of what I think other people expect?
It’s also changed how I see women over 50 when I’m out and about. I’ve started noticing things I was completely blind to before – the perfect red nail polish on a woman in Tesco, the unexpectedly cool earrings on someone ahead of me in the coffee queue, the amazing vintage coat on a woman walking her dog. These women haven’t faded into the background at all; I just wasn’t paying proper attention.
So next time you see one of those patronizing fashion features suggesting that women over 50 want nothing more than shapeless cardigans and orthopedic shoes, just remember that reality is way more interesting. They’re wearing Margaret Howell and vintage Levi’s, current season COS and trainers from Office, jumpsuits from small designers and basics from M&S.
Most importantly though, they’re wearing exactly what they want to wear. And honestly? Regardless of age, that’s probably the most stylish thing anyone can do.
Claire started Claire Wears to bridge the gap between fashion media and real life. Based in Chicago, she writes with honesty, humor, and a firm “no” to $300 “affordable” shoes. Expect practical advice, strong opinions, and the occasional rant about ridiculous trends.
