The Five Cs of keeping your look fresh: Counting the Cost

Now that I've spent 30 days telling you how to look younger, I think it's time to discuss some of the other subjects I mentioned in The Beauty Boomer Manifesto. One of these is the cost of our clothes.

Earth to fashion magazines: "investment dressing" is an oxymoron

If you've been around as long as I have, you've been told over and over again to spend heavily on your basics. To sink real money into shoes, bag, wool overcoats, and suits. They tell you you won't look polished or professional if you pay less, and that nobody will take you seriously in your $50 shoes and $100 coat. They tell you it's OK to break the bank on these important pieces because they're an investment.

I cry bullshit.

Clothing isn't an investment

On the spectrum of necessary expenses, clothes come in somewhere between groceries and a new car.

First of all, clothes are a consumable with a shelf life. It might not be the shelf-life of a Twinkie, but clothing isn't gold bullion; it doesn't last forever.

Second, as soon as you drive that outfit home from Macy's, it loses 30 percent of its value. So unless you're buying Fortuny evening gowns at thrift shops and flipping them to the Met's Costume collection, you're not making money on clothes.

Now, the nice thing about reaching our stage in life (I won't call us middle-aged for fear of offending Rosina) is that it's perfectly appropriate to spend heavily on items that are going to get a lot of wear. Or on items that have a serious job to do. Or that award you serious joy points.

The other day I was at Forever XXI with my daughter, shopping for Easter finery. I was waiting to pay for her new dress, and it occurred to me that the bra I was wearing cost more than the dress I was buying for my daughter. And as screwy as that sounds--how can two straps and a quart of spandex cost more than an entire dress--it's a perfect example of the point I'm trying to make.

My daughter will outgrow a dress in less time than it takes me to fold a load of laundry. It would be a ridiculous waste to spend Lilly Pulitzer-levels of money on a dress for her.

On the other hand, there is no sum too high to spend to get the girls--well, if not too high, then high enough. Somewhat perky. And unfortunately, I'll be wearing the same size for long enough to amortize the cost of my expensive bra.

Sometimes I think I should be wearing a sign that says "Body by Wacoal."

So don't let a sales associate or a fashion magazine talk you into spending more than you're comfortable with. If you hear the phrase "investment dressing," my advice is to stick your fingers in your ears and go "la la la la I can't heeeeeeaaaaarrrr you."

Unless the piece in question gives you serious joy. Or earns its keep. Which in my case, wouldn't be a pink and green shift dress--but would be a great-fitting bra.

This post brought to you by Poppy's collection of Wacoal bras.

30 Days to 10 years younger--10 minute tips. Tip 13: Wear a camisole

I just realized something. There are probably kids out there who don't know what a girdle is. "What is this 'girdle' of which you speak, oh wise one?" asks the teenager of today.

But you probably remember girdles. And you know that they no longer exist, because it's all "shapewear" these days, right? You're hip to Spanx. Right?

Confession time: I have some Spanx in my shapewear drawer, but I don't wear them much. Mostly I wear jeans. And Spanx under jeans? Who would bother to do that? If you want to wear Spandex on the bottom half of your body, you can buy jeans with Spandex already in them. More would be redundant.

But I can't get enough camisoles.

Not the ones like a slip cut in half--the ones with up to 14 percent Spandex, like this:

Maidenform Everyday Control Microfiber and Lace Camisole

I'm a late adapter. So sue me. When shapewear camisoles like Sassybax and Yummie Tummies first came out, they were being marketed to be worn instead of a bra. So I ignored them. I'm sorry, but my girls need more cantilevering than a camisole can provide.

Even if I didn't need more in the way of lift-and-separate, I wouldn't have gone near Sassybax, because they're fugly. They're the lingerie equivalent of an orthopedic shoe. Seriously, check it out:

You wouldn't catch me dead in a Sassybax camisole

My grandmother wore better looking underwear.

See, here's what I had to figure out all by myself: the manufacturers of Sassybax and Yummie Tummies forgot to mention that you can wear shapewear camisoles with a bra. It works fine--actually, the camisole helps your bra get the job done. And they're comfortable. Even with 14 percent Spandex, they're more like a tankini then a tourniquet.

And there are plenty of attractive ones out there. Some, like this one, are marketed to be worn instead a blouse, as well as under one.

Flexees Shapewear Chic Lace Bodice camisole

Yes, the lightbulb finally went off over my head, and I'm now the proud owner of about ten camisoles. Some are merely frivolous, but many serve a serious function. Think of the problems they solve:

Midriff bulge/muffin top/back pudge Tops are cut very fitted these days, and nobody wants to look like the Pillsbury Dough Girl.

Yummie Tummie Freedom T is a great waist cincher and layering piece.

Yummie Tummies look kind of plain, but that disguises their amazing ability to whittle your middle. Slip into one of these and you won't believe your waist. I also highly recommend the Maidenform camisoles. They're amazingly comfortable and as for firming--these things are like a personal trainer you can hand-wash and drip dry.

Excessive see-through. Have you noticed how crazily see-through a lot of clothes have gotten? Even t-shirts. But wear a camisole as your first layer, and you can wear something pretty daring on top. And daring is younger and more fun than stodgy.

Excessive cleavage. If you've got a lot on your balcony (as the French would say, if they spoke English) you probably shy away from certain tops because they're inappropriate in broad daylight--or maybe at all.

I give all my tops the cleavage test by placing my hand at the base of my throat. I hold my pointer finger at the base of my throat and check to see whether my shirt reaches the outside of my little finger. If skin shows under my little finger, I wear a camisole. Again, it's easier, younger, and more fun to wear a camisole than shop and shop for something high-necked enough to cover up the girls.

Shopping for camisoles. OK, here's the bad news. The retail prices on these things are insane. It's easy to spend up to $70 on a single camisole, which is madness. This is where discount stores are your friend. I've got a Yummie Tummie I bought at Loehman's for $16.99. I picked up a black Flexees Lace Bodice camisole at Macy's for $9.99 at an after-Christmas sale. (I probably save a lot of money because I don't feel the need to have my camisole match the rest of my underwear.)

Don't forget the cute factor. I'm a big fan of nude bras and panties, but there's something kind of Ace bandage about nude camisoles. I prefer white, black, and colors. This is something you can have fun with, so why not splash out on cheetah-print chiffon with purple lace trim?

30 Days to 10 years younger--10 minute tips. Tip 5: Perk up the girls

I live very near a very large high school, so for the past 12 years, I've become increasingly conscious of teenaged breasts. Specifically, how high up they are.

Supposedly, when you're wearing a bra, your nipple is supposed to be halfway between your shoulder and your elbow. Would somebody tell these teenaged girls? Because seriously, their nipples appear to be an inch south of their collarbones. If that.

For proof, check out 15-year old Michelle Trachtenberg (and 23-year-old Sarah Michelle Gellar.)

Now check out Bea Arthur as Maude.


Or check out Meryl Streep and Amanda Seyfried in Mamma Mia.


Bea and Meryl don't look terrible. In fact, they both look pretty great. But they would both have benefited from a bit more lift and separate.

I want you to try on every bra you own and get rid of any that aren't working. If you're using the tightest hook and the highest strap setting but you still fail the pencil test, you've achieved bra fail. Ditto if you've washed it so many times that it's getting hard to read the label. And if you can't remember where and when you bought it, chances are it isn't doing what you paid it to do.

This also includes bathing suits.

Uma, Uma, Uma. Please. You know better.

So please. Toss out the bras that have passed their expiration date. Today.

Remember, diamonds are forever, but the same can't be said of spandex.