I’ve just seen a lady who is well into her prime, sporting a trendy pair of very ripped jeans.
Now, I’m nowhere near 60, but I am far from 30 too. And if I’m honest, I’m actually nearer the former than the latter.
I’m of that era where if my garments are torn, they need either sewing or throwing.
Oh I do hope I grow old gracefully!
I hope I know when to take off my lamb suit and reveal that I’m a happy mutton.