What do you think of when you hear the word Kaftan? For me that one word brings back many very happy memories of my mum, a crazy wonderful woman who had a penchant for wearing loud patterned clothing and had quite the collection of Kaftans which she wore around the house ~ she was so much a lover of these garments that when we were younger she made us our own Kaftan each to wear instead of dressing gowns at boarding school, much to our horror!
What brings a curl to my lip and a chuckle to my throat is the fact that now I am getting older I find myself drawn to the Kaftan despite myself. When I look into the mirror I see my mother looking back at me because as the years progress the similarity between us grows. I thought this would bother me ~ all my life I was told how much like my mother I looked and it irked me, but now it doesn’t. I was young and had no desire whatsoever to look like my parent, it was hugely insulting to the younger me. But now with age I find it comforting, my mother passed away far too young, I was nowhere near ready to let her go but the choice wasn’t mine to make. So now if ever I am told that I look like my mother I feel hugely comforted, she is forever a part of me ~ I like that.
I am now the proud owner of two purple Kaftans ~ the obsession with purple is also growing with age! I wear my Kaftan with pride and smile to myself every time a receive a strange look on the street or raised eyebrow. Finally, at long last, I feel comfortable to go out wearing whatever I like no matter how bizarre it may seem to others. Mother, at last I understand you and I salute you for being so happy in your own skin and not giving a hoot what anyone else thought of you.
|Mum I don’t quite have your cushion wearing skill down yet, but I will with practice|
|My first ever Kaftan which I wore for the first time down to the opticians.|
|My second Kaftan, newly purchased and en-route as I type.|
Finally, as you may already have gathered I have an obsession which I can’t control with anything purple ~ my trip to the opticians was to collect my new prescription glasses which are in ~ yes you guessed it ~ purple! I am ridiculously excited and love them partly because I can now at long last see but also because the colour is beautiful and they are also just a little bit sparkly too. Much to my own amusement I have also invested in a cord to hold said glasses around my neck to prevent me from losing them ~ I am inching with each year closer and closer to that mad old purple woman notoriety, this makes me immensely happy.
I wonder, is it just me or are other women arriving at their mid-forties also feeling this great release of not giving a damn about what others think of them and embracing living life their own way?