A letter from a reader

At 62, I finally stopped hiding at the back of family photos

I have a drawer full of family photographs, and if you went through them you would struggle to find me.

I am there, but only just. Half a shoulder behind my son in law. The top of my head over a birthday cake. More often I am not in them at all, because I am the one holding the camera and telling everybody to squeeze in. Somewhere in my fifties I decided that was easier than seeing myself in whatever I had on.

I thought I had to choose between feeling comfortable at a family do and looking like I belonged in the photos. So I chose comfortable, and I stayed behind the camera.

So I gave up. I told myself the photos were for the grandchildren anyway, not for me.

Then I saw it on a friend at a ruby wedding

My friend Margaret turned up in a black and white tweed two-piece, a cropped jacket and matching wide-leg trousers, and when everyone was lined up for the photographs she walked straight to the front row. I have known her forty years and I have never once seen her do that. She told me it was the Melize, from Nottingham Boutique, a little boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years now. I ordered mine that evening.

What happened at Lily's birthday party

It was my granddaughter Lily's first birthday on Saturday. Three different women asked me where my outfit was from before the cake had even been cut, and my friend Sue told me I looked like I had made an effort, which I have decided to take as a compliment. Then my daughter picked up her phone and said, Mum, come and stand in the middle. And for once, I did.

When she sent the photos round that evening, I sat and looked at them for a long time. There I was, right in the middle, holding Lily, and I did not want to crop myself out of a single one.

Three things I have learned since

One. It is kind to you in a photograph. The jacket is cropped to sit at your waist and the trousers are high-waisted and wide, so the whole shape is long and neat rather than boxy. I cannot tell you how it works, only that I look at the pictures and do not wince.

Two. It is already an outfit. The jacket and trousers match, so there is no standing in front of the mirror wondering whether this top goes with that skirt. I added a plain black top and my low black shoes and I was ready.

Three. It gives your hands somewhere to go. The trousers have pockets, and if you are like me and never know what to do with your hands when somebody says smile, that is worth more than it sounds. You can wear the jacket with jeans or the trousers with a jumper too, so it is not a once a year outfit.

About the price

I will be honest, the price made me suspicious. Something that looks like it came from a smart shop in town, I assumed, would either cost the earth or look cheap up close.

The Melize is £44.95. It was £90.

There is no catch. They have their autumn sale on, delivery is free, and the tweed looks every bit as good up close as it does across a room.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered a second colour. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars. Not the suspiciously perfect five you see on some sites, which if I am honest made me trust it more. One woman had written, "I finally have a photo with all my grandchildren that I actually like. I have had it framed." That was the one that decided it for me.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you came round and we sat out on the porch with a cup of tea, this is what I would tell you.

Stop volunteering to take the photo. The grandchildren will not remember what you wore, but one day they will look for you in those pictures, and you should be in them.

It does not look like it was made for somebody half my age, and it does not look like I have given up either.

Caroline