A grown-up's guide to dressing your age

As a teenager, I’d sometimes see a woman in her 30s and think, ‘What the hell is she wearing? She’s too old for that miniskirt – why doesn’t she dress her age?’ But when I hit 30, of course, the obvious happened. I didn’t feel old. I certainly didn’t feel old enough to change the way I dressed. So, instead of converting those ageist teenage thoughts into useful pearls of wisdom, my mind stuffed them in a huge cupboard of denial. And as a result I’ve been ‘underage’ dressing ever since. Cut to a few weeks ago; I’m 35, I have a party to go to, I have nothing to wear (will this really happen for the rest of my life?). My sister Florence suggests I rifle through her dresses. I don’t know who’s the bigger idiot – Florence for thinking I’d fit her clothes, or me for thinking I’d look good in them. FYI Florence is ten years younger, two sizes smaller, two inches taller and a model. So I wriggled my muttony body into her little lamb skins, each one shorter and sparklier than the next. The result was tragic; me trussed, stuffed and red-faced in a sequined minidress, with Florence trying to look encouraging. Finally, my denial cupboard had burst open and reality spilled on to the floor. It was time to grow up and go shopping. But where to go? In part, I blame my sartorially arrested development on there not being much to service this awkward in-between stage – too old for Topshop, too young for, say, Phase Eight. But this season things have changed. For the first time in a decade, designers have gone back to basics: out are minis, 80s leggings, ruffles, from-outer-space heels; in are crisp shirts, elegant coats, cigarette pants and pumps. The big guns dictated that for winter, grown-up dressing is cool. And where Céline and Chloé lead, the high street follows. But don’t get your style references wrong – this is not about Maggie Thatcher’s 80s power suits. The role model here is the late Carolyn Bessette Kennedy in the late 90s. Remember the pictures? CBK in camel coat, starched white shirt and Hermès Birkin bag looking effortlessly elegant. Despite being in her early 30s she stuck unswervingly to her more mature, classic look. Never, it seemed, was she tempted by unsuitable sequins or frothy whimsy. Surprisingly, other role models for the new grown-up include Angelina Jolie, who despite lashings of tattoos is always smartly turned out in ladylike dresses and courts. Then there’s Vicky Beckham, way ahead of the game when she sussed years ago that sleek ’n’ chic was the look for her. However, there’s one glaringly obvious problem with dressing like a grown-up – it makes you look grown-up. Those rail-thin models at the Chloé show, barely past adolescence but dressed head-to-toe in camel, all look 20 years older. So adding a dash of colour, a multicoloured scarf or a studded handbag is a good tip. The other danger is that, if done on the cheap, grown-up dressing can look a bit, well, cheap and officey. So how to get it right? First, don’t scrimp. Buy fewer, slightly more expensive clothes with a better quality cut and fabric. A tailored camel coat is a good place to start. MaxMara is a label that has always been hot on camel coats, and a shop I’d never previously stepped into. But now my quest for grown-up chic is taking me to all sorts of uncharted territories including Aquascutum, Austin Reed and Jaeger. Geographically, the French and the Americans get grown-up right. French women look like they were born wearing a Chanel jacket, and Americans practically invented the colour camel. So my hot list of French brands includes APC, Carven, Chloé, Vanessa Bruno, Comptoir des Cotonniers, Paul & Joe and Sandro. US brands to check out are Gap, 3.1 Phillip Lim, J Crew, Michael Kors and Anthropologie. The best, most dreamy grown-up collection is at Céline, but don’t forget Stella McCartney, Joseph and RM by Roland Mouret. Not all the new grown-up looks work, though – steer clear of kitten heels. If you want comfort, wear flats and if you want sexy, wear high heels – and avoid anything in-between. Thankfully, the high street is becoming more aware of the market of 30-plus women who grew up with Topshop but want to move on. Shops such as Cos, Loft Design By and Banana Republic make sophisticated clothes without being dull. The day after my Ugly Sister moment, I fixed my partywear crisis in Matches. I found the perfect little black dress by model Ben Grimes’s label LPBG. It’s elegant: knee-length, cap sleeves with a slight stretch in the material that follows the lines of my 30-something body without gripping it like a tourniquet. According to my boyfriend this is the Holy Grail of being sexy but not slutty. And, unusually for me, it’s shine-free, without embellishment or tricksy details – which are all things I should have given up when I was 29.