T H E O F
F A S H I O N A G E I N G
The Fashion of Ageing is THE FASHION TO FOLLOW Charisse Glenn
A
geless means ‘being of all generations, not ageing or appearing to age’. To want to look youthful is not an issue, masking it behind a facade of fear is. Acknowledging what prevents us from owning our years is essential to our spiritual growth. We are all ageing — every one of us, every minute of every day. We will never be chronologically younger than we are at this moment.
The good news is how we handle it will determine if we grow old or if we become ageless. Becoming ageless happens when we shift our perspective. The shift is happening. We are entering a new era; the fashion of ageing is upon us. Never before have women embraced the natural cycle of life as they are doing now. As a young woman, I admired women who went grey. Exuding an aura of wisdom and youthful curiosity, they seemed to be shrouded in mystery, holding a secret behind the twinkle in their eyes. I wanted to know what Momentarily I felt better, and yet I felt like a spiritual charlatan for hiding my true self. The dread of exposure allowed them to be so confident and free. was always hanging over me. Years later, as my grey began to appear, I lacked the When I finally decided to let my grey shine, most of my courage to let it show. I was not ready to become the friends were shocked. woman I was meant to be. I struggled. The To their reactions, I responded: ” I am doing it so I can ramifications seemed immense. speak my truth.” Ageism is rampant in the world in which I work. I have The need to come to terms with my ageing was crucial for my journey of self-realisation. Acceptance of who I been a commercial casting director in Los Angeles for more than 30 years. In this image and youth-oriented am, naked, without adornments was imperative. I needed to face myself without shame. It was not easy. At times, I was unrecognisable to myself. The inner business, was I endangering my livelihood if I allowed my age to show? In the realm of advertising, as you image I carried had not reconciled with the one reflecting me – who was that old woman looking at me? approach 50, you are looking at the exit door. So, like millions of women, I coloured the grey. www.thefrankmagazine.com
