A letter from a reader

At 62, getting dressed had become a bit joyless. Then I found these.

I almost did not write this down, because it is only an outfit and I am not the sort of woman who gets excited about clothes any more. But three different people stopped to ask me about it at the farmers market on Saturday, and when that happens at 62 you start to think there might be something in it.

For a long time getting dressed had quietly become a chore. My wardrobe had shrunk down to the same sensible dark trousers and plain tops, all perfectly fine and all a little bit joyless. Somewhere along the way I had decided that anything cheerful or a bit of fun was for younger women, and that my job now was simply to look tidy and not draw attention. So I did not. I faded into the background, and told myself that was what you were supposed to do.

I had decided that colour and a bit of fun were things you quietly handed in at a certain age.

So I stopped reaching for anything that made me smile, and reached for the navy instead.

Then I saw them on a friend

A friend of mine turned up to a coffee morning in a pair and looked so comfortable and so cheerful that I could not stop looking. They are from Nottingham Boutique, a little boutique that has been quietly dressing women our age for a few years, and they had their summer sale on. Mine are the Matilda, a sunny yellow covered in little daisies, and they come in a whole row of other prints. I ordered them that same evening before I could talk myself out of it.

What happened at the market

I wore them to the farmers market the next weekend, half wondering if I was too old to carry them off. Instead, three separate women came over to ask me where they were from. Three. My friend Sue looked at me and said I seemed like I was actually enjoying myself, which I was, and which I realised I had not been for quite a while.

That was the moment it clicked for me. I had spent years believing that fading quietly into the background was just my lot now, and here was one cheerful, comfortable thing that gently proved me wrong.

Three things I have learned since

One. One piece is a small blessing. There is no standing at the wardrobe working out what goes with what. I step into it, do up the straps, and I am dressed and out the door, which on a busy morning is a real gift.

Two. It is genuinely made for real days. The straps adjust so it sits just right, the fit is loose and easy without swamping me, and there are big deep pockets that swallow my keys and my phone and my reading glasses.

Three. A little cheer goes a long way. This was the part I did not expect. A bit of colour and a daisy or two lifted my mood more than I would ever have admitted, and other people seem to catch it too.

About the price

I will be honest, when I saw how little it was I was a bit suspicious. Something this comfortable and this well made usually costs a good deal more.

The Matilda is £28.95. It was £58.00.

There was no catch. It arrived quickly, it goes straight in the machine, and it looked exactly like the picture, which we all know is not always the way.

I did go and read the reviews before I ordered a second one in another print. 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, "First thing I have worn in years that made me feel like me again, and I get a compliment every single time." That was the one that decided it for me.

What I would tell you if we were friends

If you were sitting across from me with a cup of tea, I would not give you a sales pitch. I would just say that I had quietly stopped letting myself enjoy getting dressed, and one cheerful, comfortable thing reminded me I was allowed to.

Order your usual size, pick the print that makes you smile, and let yourself have a bit of fun with it.

It is the rarest kind of outfit. The one that is comfortable and cheerful and still looks like you.

Caroline