For ten years, life as a fashion influencer over 50, then 60, has meant getting very comfortable with being photographed in public.
It started on the sidewalks of San Francisco when Mr. Style and I were building Style at a Certain Age one outfit post at a time. We lived on Nob Hill, close to Grace Cathedral, so it was easy to get dressed, head outside, photograph one outfit, and come home. And honestly, San Francisco gave us some glorious backdrops.
At the time, I was also working at Bloomingdale’s, so batching content wasn’t optional — it was how we made the whole thing work. And honestly, it’s still how we work today. On days when we needed to photograph several outfits, we’d head to San Francisco University, where there were plenty of beautiful backdrops to choose from — and, just as importantly, public restrooms where I could change between looks.
Very glamorous.
When we moved to Athens, the logistics changed. That’s when the changing tent came into play, along with more outfit changes in public bathrooms. Eventually we realized it was simply easier to shoot in my driveway and inside my home. I could change clothes in five minutes, walk back outside, and we were ready for the next look.
And now Atlanta has made things easy again in a completely different way. My apartment is in an urban environment, so I can get dressed, take the elevator downstairs, and suddenly we have street corners, crosswalks, brick buildings, glass towers, coffee shops, and all the movement of the city at our disposal.
It feels a little like coming full circle. San Francisco gave us those beautiful city backdrops in the beginning. Athens made shooting at home practical. And Atlanta has brought the city back into the photographs again — only now, ten years later, Jess and I know exactly what we’re doing.
Well. Most of the time.
People still stop and ask what on earth we’re doing. Sometimes they offer to take a photo of the two of us. Sometimes they hand Jess their own phone and ask her to take theirs — and every now and then, they come back for another. Jess, being Jess, is always gracious. She’ll take the picture, adjust the angle, and even give them a little posing direction before sending them on their way.
And through the years, many of you have stopped us, too — to introduce yourselves, say hello, or tell me you’ve been reading Style at a Certain Age for years. That is always such a treat. There is something very special about meeting someone in person who has been part of this community from the other side of a screen. For a few minutes, the blog becomes real in a completely different way.
Then Jess and I go right back to work.
Because what looks like a few outfit photos from the outside is really part of a much bigger story. For ten years, I’ve shared my clothes, my face, my life, and increasingly, myself, with people on the other side of a screen. And lately I’ve been thinking about what that means.
Not the clothes. Not the links. Not the algorithm. Not even the camera.
The looking.
What I’m wearing:
My Veronica Beard cardigan from the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale is no longer available, but I’ve linked three current Veronica Beard styles, which are a Splurge here, here, and here, along with a Sweet Spot from Tuckernuck and a Save from Caslon. I paired it with a Collared Sweater Tee, Faux Leather Trousers, Snakeprint Ballet Flats, a Suede Clutch, Solara Earrings, and my Monica Sunglasses
.
If you’ve been with me since Style at a Certain Age celebrated ten years, you know how unlikely all of this was and how it all began. I was fifty-six years old. I was writing a novel. A literary agent told me that if I wanted to sell the book, I needed a platform.
So I built one. Simple, right?
Well. Somewhere along the way, the platform became the thing. Style at a Certain Age took off, the book went back into the proverbial drawer, and suddenly Mr. Style and I were spending our afternoons photographing outfits.
Life has a sense of humor.
Key Takeaways
- Ten years in front of the camera taught me the looking was never the point. What it built was the point — a community that shows up.
- Negative comments don’t get kinder over time. You get used to them. Mostly. The ones that land hardest arrive when there’s no one to hand them to.
- A viral post is a wonderful thing until one or two sour comments open the door, and then the pile-on begins — and the people piling on are almost never your readers.
What Being a Fashion Influencer Over 60 Actually Teaches You
It teaches you a few things. You learn that strangers will always have something to say about your hair, your hemline, your knees and — most recently — your eyebrows, and that the volume of it has surprisingly little to do with you. You learn that a camera is remarkably uninterested in your preferred version of reality. You learn that some people who have never met you will feel perfectly comfortable telling you what you should and should not do.
But eventually, you learn something much more important. Being visible can bring scrutiny. It can also build community. And after ten years, I know which one matters more.
But we certainly didn’t know any of that when we started.
Two People Who Had Absolutely No Idea What They Were Doing
Of course, none of this started with a grand plan to spend the next decade in front of a camera. It started with Mr. Style and me trying to figure out how to take a decent outfit photo. He was not a photographer. I was not a model. And neither one of us had the faintest idea what we were doing.
There was a lot of: “Stand there.” “No, over there.” “Wait, the light is better on this side.” “Do that again.” And inevitably: “Hang on, there’s a bus.”
I particularly love the photo with the ginormous trash cans behind me. Yep, did I mention very glamorous?
But we learned. He learned the camera. I learned how to pose without looking as though I was posing, how to find the light, how to keep a heel out of a crack in the sidewalk, and eventually how to ignore the people walking past, wondering what on earth we were up to.
Looking back, those early photos make me smile because they are not polished. Not remotely. But they are ours. We were building something together before either of us understood what it might become.
And then Oscar started wandering into the frame.
I don’t think either of us expected a German Shepherd to become one of the most popular personalities on a women’s style blog, but Oscar had other ideas. The minute he appeared, the comments lit up in a way they never had for me alone. “Where’s Oscar?” “More Oscar!” “What does Oscar think of the outfit?”
Apparently I had been upstaged by my own dog. And deservedly so.
Oscar taught me something important long before I understood it: people respond to what’s real. He wasn’t posing. He wasn’t worrying about whether the light was flattering. He was simply Oscar. And people loved him for it.
Everything That Was Apparently “Wrong”
Once you put your picture on the internet often enough, people begin to feel remarkably comfortable telling you what they think. About the outfit, certainly. But also about you. The comments come in almost neighborly, the way unsolicited advice does at church.
If I wore a skirt above the knee, someone inevitably had something to say about my knees — including the memorable opinion that old knees should never see the light of day. My gray hair made me look years older. Women my age shouldn’t wear shorts. Certain styles were only for thin women.
And one of my longtime favorites, because it’s been arriving steadily for a decade: Why do women hit fifty and think they need to cut their hair?
This one always gets me, because I cut my hair when I was seventeen. Seventeen. I’ve had some version of short hair since 1976. It was not a concession to age. It was a decision I made in high school and simply never revisited. I did not turn fifty and suddenly decide that long hair was no longer allowed. I just like short hair.
But that’s the curious thing about being a woman over a certain age in public. People tend to attach a story to your choices, whether you gave them one or not. The short hair means something. The gray hair means something. The hemline means something. And somewhere along the way, “I don’t like that outfit” can quietly turn into “There is something wrong with you” — and I’m not sure the women writing the comments ever notice the line they’ve crossed.
Most recently, someone informed me that my eyebrows needed shaping. I had to smile at that one. Little does she know, my eyebrows barely grow anymore. There isn’t much left to shape. We are working with what we have, and I’m perfectly fine with that.
Most of these comments come and go. You read them, shake your head, and move on. But every once in a while, a post travels far beyond the people who actually know you. And that is when things can get interesting.
The Shirtdress That Started a Facebook War
In April 2021, I stood on my front porch in Athens wearing a blue-and-white daisy-print shirtdress from Talbots. It was belted. There was a tulip wreath on the door behind me. Spring had arrived. If you’ve been around here for any length of time, you know I have always loved a good shirtdress.
I thought this one was cheerful and fresh. A few people on Facebook thought I looked frumpy.
Fine. You don’t have to like my dress.
But then the post went viral. And all hell broke loose.
The photograph started getting shared outside my regular audience, and that’s when I learned one of the peculiar laws of social media: every share carries a post a little further from the people who know you and a little closer to the people who don’t. The farther it travels, the stranger the neighborhood becomes. It doesn’t always turn ugly. But if one or two sour comments land, it’s as though permission has been granted — and then the pile-on begins.
My readers jumped in to defend me, bless them. Then other people argued with them. Then people argued about the arguing. Before long, a perfectly innocent Talbots shirtdress had caused something close to a Facebook civil war. Facebook is particularly talented at this.
The comments became personal. Some were downright vicious. And for the first time, I seriously considered shutting down my Facebook account.
Over a shirtdress. Think about that for a minute.
Eventually, I closed the laptop. The noise moved on to somebody else. I was still here. So was Style at a Certain Age.
And yes, I still like shirtdresses.
The Year I Kept Smiling
The hardest photographs I have ever taken are the ones where I look perfectly fine.
When Mr. Style was diagnosed with cancer, we kept the news private for more than a year. That was his decision. It was his diagnosis, his life, and his story to tell when — and if — he was ready.
So I kept doing what I did every week. I got dressed. I put on my lipstick. I stepped in front of the camera. And I smiled. Outfit posts. Photographs. Videos. Business as usual.
Except, of course, nothing was usual. And somehow the camera knew. More importantly, you knew.
Readers began writing to me. “Beth, you seem sad.” “You don’t quite seem like yourself.” “Is everything okay?” You didn’t know what was happening. But you knew something was happening.
Eventually, when he was ready, we shared what was happening.
That period taught me something about photographs I have never forgotten. You can style your clothes. You can fix your hair. You can put on lipstick and smile when someone says, “Ready?” But you cannot always style your face. Sometimes the people who have been paying attention see right through it. And the camera never lies.
Someone in Your Corner
All of this was easier when Mr. Style was alive. And I don’t just mean taking the photographs.
He was my sounding board. When someone left a nasty comment that got under my skin, I would read it to him. He would look at me over his glasses and say: “Why would you let a complete stranger’s opinion bother you?”
Which was both deeply irritating and completely correct. That was Mr. Style. I would grumble. He would shrug. And somehow the comment would shrink back to its proper size.
That is one of the things you don’t fully appreciate about having someone in your corner until they’re no longer there. You get to hand them things. The hurt feelings. The ridiculous comment. The decision you’re second-guessing. The worry that woke you up at three in the morning. You hand it over for a minute, and someone who loves you hands back perspective.
After he died, the negative comments landed differently. There was no longer anyone sitting across the room for me to say, “Listen to what this person said.” I had to learn to be my own sounding board — which sounds nice and tidy written down and was neither of those things in practice.
But I did. Not overnight. Not gracefully every single time. But I did.
These days? C’est la vie. You simply cannot spend more than a decade in the public eye and give every stranger with a keyboard a vote. Most of it rolls right off my shoulders now. Mostly. Every once in a while, something catches me on the wrong day. I’m human.
And here’s the thing nobody warns you about: the same rule applies to the good comments. I appreciate every kind word more than you know — but you never want any of it to go to your head. I’m a Midwest girl. I will always appreciate two feet planted firmly on the ground. Mr. Style understood this all too well, which is why he insisted from the very first outfit post that Style at a Certain Age was a business, run on business principles. Not a mirror. Not a popularity contest. A business. Praise and criticism both get read, both get weighed, and neither one gets to run the place.
But I’ve gotten very good at remembering something Mr. Style understood all along: not every opinion deserves real estate in your head. The mean ones or the nice ones.
Handing Over the Camera
When I look back at the past ten years, I realize the story isn’t really about the woman standing in front of the camera. It’s about the people standing behind it.
First there was Mr. Style. Two people who had no idea what they were doing, figuring it out together one photo at a time.
Then my son Christian stepped behind the lens. Today, Christian runs my YouTube channel and oversees video for Style at a Certain Age.
There’s something very special about being filmed by your son.
He knows I’ve blown a line before I’ve admitted it, and he’ll tell me when a take is really, really bad.
Ten years in, I still flub lines regularly. There’s a blooper reel in here somewhere.
But he sees me not just as Beth Djalali standing in front of a camera, but as his mom.
I think that shows.
And then there’s Jess. Jess has been a godsend. I absolutely love working with her. She’s the one walking backward down Atlanta sidewalks while I walk toward her. She’s the one calling, “One more!” And somehow convincing me that yes, there really does need to be one more.
Since I started spending more time in Atlanta, our photography has taken on a whole new energy. Street corners. Crosswalks. Brick buildings. Glass towers. Cars. People. Movement. Life happening around us.
And every once in a while, a stranger stops. “What are you doing?”
Ten years later, I still don’t have a particularly good answer. Maybe I don’t need one.
Closing Thoughts
Ten years of being looked at has taught me something I never expected when Mr. Style and I picked up that first camera. The looking was never the point. What it built was the point.
This community. The women who noticed something was wrong before I had said a word. The women who went to battle over my daisy shirtdress — and while I don’t recommend engaging in Facebook warfare on my behalf, I loved you for it. The women who have been widowed. Divorced. Diagnosed. Retired. Reinvented. Heartbroken. Newly in love. Starting over at fifty, sixty, seventy, and beyond. The women who show up here and remind one another that life keeps moving — and so do we. And the women who have read this far and are already composing the comment that starts, “Beth, I’ve been there.”
The strangers will continue to wander in. Some of them will undoubtedly have thoughts about my hair. Or my knees. Or my eyebrows. Good heavens, perhaps next week we’ll move on to my elbows.
Let them.
Because after ten years, I know the difference between being looked at and being seen. And all of you? You have seen me. Through Mr. Style’s camera. Through Christian’s. Through Jess’s. Through some of the happiest years of my life and some of the hardest. And that has been one of the greatest gifts of this very unexpected journey.
Style has no expiration date. And neither do you.
Frequently Asked Questions
Mostly wonderful. Occasionally ridiculous. Every once in a while, brutal. You build an extraordinary community of women who show up for one another — and you also encounter complete strangers who feel surprisingly invested in your hair, your hemline, your knees, and apparently your eyebrows. After ten years, I can tell you without hesitation which group matters.
Much better than I used to. Most comments roll right off these days because I’ve finally learned that a stranger’s opinion is exactly that: an opinion. Every once in a while one catches me on a bad day. When that happens, I close the laptop, go live my actual life, and come back when the comment has returned to its proper size. Usually very small.
Because it was his story. He wasn’t ready to share his diagnosis publicly, and I respected that. We kept it within our family for more than a year. Eventually, readers began noticing that I seemed sad even though I was smiling in photographs. When we were ready, we shared what was happening.
Jess photographs the blog and much of our social content, and my son Christian runs the YouTube channel and oversees video at Style at a Certain Age. In the early years, Mr. Style was behind the camera — first in San Francisco and later in Athens. Every photographer has brought something different to Style at a Certain Age, which is part of what makes looking back through ten years of photographs so special.
Yes, I do. I may not see every single comment on every platform anymore — Style at a Certain Age has grown considerably over the years — but I read far more of them than people probably realize. And I especially love hearing from the women who have been with me for years. You’ve become part of the story too.
Shop the Post
Browse my full ShopMy storefront for fashion, beauty, home, and everything currently catching my eye.
The Cardigan
The Veronica Beard cardigan I’m wearing came from the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale and is unfortunately no longer available. But I found several current options that give you the same polished fall look at different price points.
Splurge: Veronica Beard Cardigan · Veronica Beard Cardigan · Veronica Beard Cardigan
Sweet Spot: Tuckernuck Cardigan
Save: Caslon Cardigan
The Rest of the Look
Before You Go
After writing this, I keep coming back to Mr. Style asking me why I would give a complete stranger’s opinion so much power. It took me a few years, but I finally got the message.
So I’m curious: Who’s in your corner? Who is the person who can take something that feels enormous and hand it back to you at its proper size?
Or, since we might as well have a little fun: what is the most “helpful” piece of unsolicited advice someone has ever given you about your appearance? I have a feeling we could fill an entire comment section with that one.
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I love the way you style yourself! I also love your hair. I too style my hair short! I have been reading your posts for probably 8 years. I am just a year younger and as we get older, I have learned it matters less what others think and I need to be true to myself. I am sure you have realized this yourself. We get better with age!
Cheers to another ten years, or as long as you are having fun!
I have been following you since San Francisco..I remember Oscar as a puppy..I stayed with you because you have class and elegance..something many others don’t..I’ve been amazed at how you carried on..you are a source of strength to is all..thank you for sticking with it.
I agree wholeheartedly. I don’t think elegance and class can be taught: you have it or you don’t. Beth has both. And like style, they have no expiration date.
Beth, you’ve inspired me to get a little more creative with what I wear.
I’ve curated a capsule wardrobe of both everyday looks and more stylish looks.
You’ve convinced me to wear my better clothes. At nearly 77 years old, what am I saving them for?
Hey Beth, I have followed you for years. Thank you for sharing your journey. It encourages me. I am 67 and have been widowed since the age of 32. I am not in the public but remember something my father always said when being critiqued or judged. “Consider the source.” It doesn’t always remove the sting but does help with my perspective. Margaret
I love you~been there and done that~! Trying to find my next chapter at 66 and totally inspired by you. Don’t always agree with the fashion, but always love the ideas! You Go Girl!!!
My Dear Beth, I started reading your blogs and watching your YouTube in 2020 when I retired after working 52 years. When I saw you I thought, well here is a women who knows how to dress and very savy in her advise. Do I love everything you show us, well maybe 95 percent, but the other 5 percent is my humble opinion which I keep to myself. You truly hit the sweet spot for everyone and I can only wish you health, happiness, and strength. My cousin was always in my corner along with my husband and daughter. I lost my cousin four years ago and I do know the heartbreak that it causes. But you carrie on with the others in your life and are thankful for all of that. Oh did i mention that my twin grandchildren who are 12 years old said they will always be there for me. I am truly blessed and I believe you are too.
Beth,
I have followed you for probably 8 years or more. You continue to always give get content and style beautiful outfits. Keep your chin up and don’t worry about negative Nellys. There is a lot of work that goes into your site and so many ladies that appreciate all that you do.
Hang tough!
Pam S.
You have brightened my day and inspired me for many years. Two thoughts:
1) I don’t remember why the shirt dress caused any controversy—it was pretty and you looked lovely in it.
2) You might be the only one noticed the trashcan—that was one of my favorite outfits of yours. It looked so fun and stylish.
I am still fortunate enough to have my husband with me each day, who is my best friend and always encourages me. You have exhibited such grace and courage, and I am so happy your family is a part of your blogging adventures. God bless you!
I needed this today — for reasons that have nothing to do with the outer me.
The uninvited and often unwelcome voices of others have a way of amplifying our own inner critic — creating a low hum of self-doubt punctuated by squeaks of anxiety that can drown out the confidence we want to both feel and project.
Even at this stage of life — you and I are exactly the same age — and even though we are armed with so much experience, knowledge, wisdom, and a sense of who we really are deep down, we’re still somehow vulnerable to those hums and squeaks.
Mr. Style had the right approach: Why would we listen to those voices? Instead, why don’t we just turn down the volume on the noise from those who don’t know us, and don’t know what we know, and don’t have our best interests at heart, and whose opinion has no real impact on us?
I don’t know why we still struggle with that, but I do know that actually visualizing my hand dialing down the volume on a speaker is helpful. So is getting dressed and doing my hair and fixing my face instead of lounging around in my pajamas on a down day — a form of faking it until I’m making it, and it works.
Thanks for a decade of inspiration and motivation. Here’s to the next 10 years.
Thank you once again for your words! We are the same age and I feel and take away so much from your writing. I can’t wait for your book! Thank you also for not taking this away and putting it on a paid substack. So many have and I know you all have to make a living, but there are just too many expenses to then pay for each influencers stories. Thank you Beth
This was a most fabulous post. Thanks for sharing.
This was an interesting read and you certainly have been through a lot for your Style At A Certain Age. I have probably been there for most of it.
I shared some pictures with another blogger and gave her my permission to use them and the first few comments I read first thing in the morning were very negative. It did bother me but after I cooled down I thought maybe these people have something negative going on. I had to think that the bloggers out there have to get over these comments or else the negativity wins. Thank you for what you do. And I love your short hair!
This post is poignant, heartfelt, encouraging, and wonderful all wrapped together! Thank you!
Because I want to begin my day in a positive way I have become a long time reader. I read today’s post with both a smile and a tear. Thank you for sharing your journey. My husband of more than 60 years now suffers from stage 4 cancer. We also are keeping it private. Sharing with close family and a couple of my girlfriends because my sweet thoughtful husband knows I need their support.
And now for you–you keep being you because you have it Girlfriend–hair, knees, pose, smile and most of all STYLE!
LOVED this post. Such insight and wisdom! Love your content. Here’s to another 10 years!!
I love your blog & look forward to it as my daily treat. My husband is a painter & author of 50 books. He has always said, “If you stick your head up above the crowd, someone is bound to take a potshot at you.” I’m glad you have chosen to carry on.
I have been following you for years but never commented. You are such a classy lady and I have learned much from your posts. I remember crying when I read about Mr Style and Oscar. You have gone through different seasons in your life in front of the camera and that takes courage. This is the ministry God has blessed you with. Always be encouraged to know that Jesus is in your corner! God bless you Beth
Advice: Dress to please yourself. If you feel good and confident in something, it will show. Also, “when you are having a good hair day, all is right with the world.”
Hi Beth, I wanted to add a bit more…My husband’s grandmother said the hair comment. I have found it to be true in my experience. I have been following you since San Francisco. I found you through a Talbots ad. I love the classics and you have been an inspiration to me throughout the years. I noticed you looked tired when Mr Style was ill, even before you announced it. We are the same age, and our husbands, too. I cried when learning about Mr Style, and Oscar, too. I loved Fridays with Oscar! I live in Iowa, so I feel some connection to your roots, even though I grew up in Minnesota. I hope you keep posting for 10 more years because I look forward to it every day. Joanie from Iowa
As you talked about dealing with the negative comments and how you handle them, I have taught myself not to be intimidated by the price of the clothes you feature. I can’t afford them, but I’ve learned to look at what you’re wearing and think how I can make that affordable for me. I can sew, take a trip to the Goodwill and I’m learning to look at the concept and think how I can apply it to what I have. Thank you for helping this seventy year old gal look her best.
Beth: Fabulous post today. The comment I receive regularly is I have great “desert casual” style since moving from WA state to CA desert. I rewired in ’23 and haven’t looked back after a fabulous career in a Fortune 40 corp. Hard career in a predominately male run org but well worth it. BTW – have you read The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo? It’s a great read. Can’t wait to read your book. Stay strong and well – you rock and I have been a follower for many years!
Growing up, my grandmothers always dressed…..elderly. There were no knees, shoulders, or elbows peering out from their Alfred Dunner polyester matching tops and pants. Best compliment was when someone at work asked if I was wearing faux leather pants. Yep – I am a Gigi but hopefully one that has style and my coworker told me I rocked them. Totally made my day and made me realize that the best look on anyone is confidence.
Congratulations on your 10 years of business running Style at a Certain Age. I love your platform and seeing your blog everyday. Love your style and 99 percent of the time your outfit of the day you are modeling. You certainly are classic and you have given me many tips over the years. I still grieve for you on your loss of Mr. Style and Oscar.
Of course, I just love, love your outfit on today’s post. There goes my resolve to not order anything for awhile. lol I have a pair of light brown and black faux leather pants and with the sweater and cardigan from Veronica Beard, I am looking forward to wearing the outfit.
I have actually had someone tell me once I looked heavy in an outfit. Ok I need to loose 10 pounds, but really!
I have a best friend for 40 years that is my sounding board. Thank God for her. I am glad you took Mr. Styles advice and do not let strangers get you down. People are well meaning sometimes, but not always. Thank you for this post. I look forward to reading your post everyday. God bless.
Beth, You epitomize style and class. I really enjoy your work!
Life is a journey, a fluid series of uh-ohs and ah-has. May you continue on your very special path. Hugs, girl!
This will be my forth try to write you a comment. The page says it needs to reload and erases everything that I have written. I wonder if anyone else has this problem?
I also have been following you since San Francisco! I miss Mr. Style and Oscar. I love how you have added Atlanta and your granddaughters to your life. I have 3 closets full of clothes to sort out this Fall. My sister and husband are in my corner.
This was a great post! Thank you for writing this blog ❤️
Janet Pindoley
Most helpful advice – or saying: When you look good, you feel good. My favorite Beth advice: don’t look frumpy or like you “gave up”, you owe more to yourself! I love you and this was beautiful to read!!! Xo, Jess :0)
I absolutely loved your transparency in this. Thank you.
such a beautiful, heartfelt post Beth. thank you so much for sharing. God bless you.
Thank you for sharing your beautifully written words that come from your heart. I am newer to your blog, so all this history was fascinating to me! Struggling now with my 90-year-old father’s Stage 4 metastatic melanoma diagnosis right now; he too will not be taking any treatment, so your husband’s story really resonated with me today. Peace and Love.❤️
I’m in my late 40’s, so not quite your demographic, and have been following for at least 8 or 9 years. Part of my morning routine at work every day is to catch up. There are other bloggers I’ve followed over the years too, but yours is the one I’d never miss, including catching up on over 2 weeks at a time when I get back from my annual summer vacation!
Two reasons: one, the style. I love or like most of what you wear, but not everything. I would never expect to though, it’s an impossibility. But even if I don’t like a particular item or combination, there’s always something I can learn if I think about it – what is it about the combo I’m not liking? Why don’t I like a particular colour? A particular fit? A particular pattern or whatever it is? The miserable nay-sayers need to learn that we learn as much from that, as we do from what we do like. Just like how we can learn the most from our failures. No-one is forcing us to go buy or wear what you wear. Take/wear what you like, don’t what you don’t, be gracious.
Second reason, and honestly the biggie for me. Your work ethic. It’s incredible. There is no other blogger I’ve found who has a daily post with the clear amount of thought and effort put into it. Every single day pretty much. Others, there’s maybe 3-5 a month, sometimes even less, and they’re much less interesting to read. I trust that I can come to SAACA and have something to think about every day. That’s rare, and for me, it’s what says the most about you – caring (about your audience), hardworking, integrity and pure class. The fabulous style is the cherry on top.
Beth, to answer your question, I feel that YOU are in my corner. Several years ago I was searching online for current fashion and makeup advice to help me look my very best. I discovered Style at a Certain Age and I haven’t missed a post since. You have helped me to confidently add style and flair to my wardrobe. I get a kick out of seeing your entire outfit from head to toe; including belts, purses, and shoes. I appreciate the variety of price points you include for clothing and accessories.I am eager to see what you post for each changing season of the year.
Bottom Line: Your writing, your sense of humor, and your sense of style are top notch. Thank you for sharing your talents with all of us.
Beth,
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed your post today! I laughed lots and even shed a few tears. You’re an excellent writer. Can’t wait to read your new book!
I discovered your blog seven years ago and have followed you ever since.
Like you, I’m also a Midwest girl. Although, it’s been over 65 years, those roots never go away.
Thank you for all your hard work and inspiration.
Kind regards, Barbara Craven
Dear Beth,
Wow, ten years. I have been with you about 8 years and have loved every post, utube and instagram.
Your style is so classy and you are so honest, which is a plus.
Thank you so much for allowing us into your life.
Blessings to you and your family.
Beth, your posts and insights are something that I always read in my feed and I save them until I have time to read and enjoy. I appreciate your insight, honesty and opinions and Mr. Style’s advice that “every comment does not deserve real estate in your mind” (my paraphrase!) is something that is safe advice and deserves to be remembered. Thank you for caring and for sharing! 😘
Dear Beth
I applaud you. I feel as though I could have written this myself. I am not an influencer but I did spend nearly 30 years as a Reporter and Anchor in TV news. My God people were great with the comments. But a few could make one miserable. Every day…. 5 days a week. First letters took some time to reach me but then emails were immediate.
Not just about news judgement or content but a lot about appearance, makeup, hair, clothes and weight. And God forbid, you get sick or a family member passes and you disappear for a bit.
When I quit, I was actually quite young but my husband retired. He was 56.
I was 52 and I considered a blog but no…. I had enough of the judging and comments and living on a schedule!
I regret that when I started my career
I didn’t fully understand how I would be under the microscope like I was. I was relieved to move on after those decades and so these days I travel extensively around the world with my husband. I quit all social media. It feels great!
I did live and still live a thrilling life even after leaving the spotlight and semi fame.
All the best,
God bless you and your family, Oscar, Ollie and Mr Style. You’ve got the right attitude. Keep going!
Been following you from the very beginning! Ten years brings much change and you are handling it beautifully!! Looking forward to what the next 10 brings on Style at a Certain Age. I wish I had a nickel for every comment on my hair and I’m not even a blogger! Like my mother used to say, “Bless ’em!”.
Beth, over the years that I have followed you, I have only commented a couple of times, but your post today leads me to say, thank you. Thank you for taking that first step. I appreciate that you have shared so much with us. I don’t “need” an online community in my life, but following you has given me joy for so many reasons. I look forward to your daily posts. I have enjoyed the evolution of Style at a Certain Age. I was grieved by the loss of Mr. Style. I have a Mr. Style of my own. He is my best friend. I was so happy for you as your grandchildren were born as I known from my own experience the joy of holding and knowing our child’s child.
You are a beautiful woman with a beautiful soul. We may never meet this side of heaven, but today, I wanted to tell you that I feel a kinship that grew because you allowed me to look into the life of another human being whom I have grown to know, love and admire…. albeit only through the lense of a camera and the written word.
Congratulations, and thanks for all you have shared over the past decade. I hope you keep it up for years to come.
Beth, I think you are beautiful. And brave.
Beth, Thank you for a great post! I have been with you for more than 8 years but don’t often reply. I think you are the most classy and kind person (and comical) of all the bloggers! I love Mr. Styles comment on how you should take criticism, “Don’t let them take up real estate in you mind!” Bravo! Keep up the great work, we so appreciate you!!
Reading yr posts gives me positive thoughts. Keep up yr excellent work! When people make nasty, personal comments, I want to say who are you?
Beth, thank you for that beautiful, personal post. I’m the same age & have a similar personal style. Love the V Beard, F Valentine, Ann Mashburn & of course J Crew & Talbots. I always draw inspiration from you. Today’s outfit- no exception! Thanks for being a voice & presence for women over 50.❤️
Love your honesty and willingness to share yourself with all of us. Thank you.
Thanks for so openly and honestly sharing your journey. For some reason, that someone commented on your eyebrows just cracked me up! At 68, if I don’t “draw” them on they’re practically non-existent. Haven’t had much to pluck since menopause😂. I read you everyday and admire how hard you work.
P.S. I’ve read your replies to the nasty comments and I’m not sure I could handle them with the grace you show – every time.
Hello Beth!
Occasionally, I’ve seen your blog over the years, enjoyed it very much, but never commented. Thank you for sharing your fashion sense, your common sense and your womanly wisdom, especially in a world that often lacks all three. You’re appreciated!
Congratulations Beth& thank you for your advice. I love your hair, knees& eyebrows!
Hi Beth, I’ve been following you for a good portion of the ten years you’ve been at this. I want to say “Bravo” to you for being yourself, and staying true to yourself despite the negative noise out there. You do a marvelous job and I have shopped many times through your links. Thank you!
Now a couple of comments that I think could expand your impact: what about all of us plus-size women out there who also want to (and succeed!) at looking fashionable. Many many of the brands you recommend do not come beyond a size 16, and others stop at size 12! And, as I have aged, I have shrunk a couple of inches, so now I’m firmly in the petite category, although most petite sized garments assume that you are also small and/or fine-boned and stop at size 16.
I am able to spend a considerable amount on clothing and yet am at a loss as to how to dress well without needing to have everything tailored. Ralph Lauren used to make women’s clothing in plus-sized petite, which was marvelous.
Thank you for listening and I would appreciate if you could join hands occasionally with a brand serving larger women who love fashion. ( Not Eloquii or anything from Amazon…ack!)
All the best,
Beverly
Ditto to every single comment the Blog Sisters wrote in response to your post today. You are one of a kind, Beth. December marks 10 years I was coming out of a challenging health year and one of my daughters-in-law led me to SAACA. Immediately smittened! Little did I know back then that though physical health was much better, mental was on a 10-year journey. Yet, your posts offered lovely ideas for looking our best everyday. I clung to the advice and successfully navigated the journey, always looking better than I felt. Praise God, this Spring the depression lifted, and am still drawing style ideas from you, Beth. All my life, have marched to the beat of a different drum, and as I speed to age 76 in less than two months, am still doing so. Now, however, am more confident, more peaceful, allowing wisdom to lead the way. It’s peppered with a bit of sass, too! A huge salute for your incredible accomplishments, Beth! The Lord mightily bless the next 10 years 💖
Thank you for all that you do, including, and most especially your honesty! You are so appreciated!
Beth,
This might have been your best post ever! You go Girl!!
Lovely post with a look back at your beginning.
Your comments about readers and their unsolicited advice resonated with me.
I am a tall woman, several inches above your 5’8, Beth.
I could have retired very rich, if I had money for every comment people have made and still make about my height. As if, I could do anything about it!!!
Although in the last year I have also been called “Beautiful” and “Elegant”! I think this is attributed to my height.
I am a proud tall woman!!!
Hi Beth,
I loved reading your looking back into the last 10 years. What a journey you’ve been on and so (mostly) heartwarming. I’ve followed you for years ( don’t ever comment), but today I will.
Your condor is encouraging. I learn from your insights and suggestions and that has been very helpful.
We too are now on a cancer journey ( as are so many in our area) and the only way we are making it through is because of the many people around the world praying for us. Only God.
Blessings to you and who knows what the next 10 years will bring for you and all your readers.
Blessings,
Lydia
Beth – I love your style! I think you are classy and have great taste! Thank you for sharing your fashion choices with us.
Eloquently stated, Beth, regarding chapters of life. I appreciate your vulnerability, willingness, and huge effort to put forth your best self. You’re a terrific teacher by example. I’m certain it takes incredible energy.
I started following you a couple of years ago because I thought you were so beautiful and stylish! I still do. I’m 69, on a fixed income and never go very far from home, so our styles are very different. I’m more of a boho, or frilly kind of style, but sometimes I like to look more stylish and more pulled together, and your SAACA certainly helps with that. Your hair is gorgeous and you are fit enough to be able to wear shorts and go sleeveless. I see nothing to criticize!
Oh, I see you! I LOVE this! I’ve followed you since just about when Oscar came into the picture! LOL Beth, you are the only style blogger I subscribe to in email. You are classy and real! While I may not be able to afford some of the pieces you wear, I can certainly follow your style advice within my own budget! Choosing my splurges with care and rounding out with what I already have. I love that! Your style is timeless and classic. Just what I like. Lately, I have been systematically unfollowing all the fast fashion bloggers on Instagram and Facebook. They seem so wasteful and I can’t abide that anymore.
Carry on, dear lady! May you still enjoy what you do as much as your devout followers enjoy what you do for many years to come! As I like to say, “Find your joy!”
Beth,
You are doing something that women over 50+ have needed – especially me. I too have heard the negative comments even though I am not on social media. My hardest one was when I was 25 years old and having my first baby. My oldest brother told me as I was looking at swimsuits that I would never fit into one. Well that made me so mad that after I had the baby, my weight went 10 pounds lower than before. I showed him and I hope you can have the same attitude of “I’ll show those mean people”! I did not have my husband in my corner, in fact he was in my brother’s corner. I did have a best friend who I relied on all the time. People will use nasty comments to cover their jealousy. Continue on and remember Mr. Style there in your corner rooting for you.
Sincerely,
Susan
Thank you Beth-I came here for the fashion, the cocktail recipes and Oscar of course. I stayed for your openness and authenticity. So looking forward to reading your novel!
What a beautiful message Beth… and so true! People who criticize you are probably jealous and envious of your success. Follow Mr. Style’s advice and don’t pay attention to the negativity. It’s not easy to do, but you work so hard and your blog is soooo interesting and full of great ideas, not only on clothes, but also on food, home decor, books, activities, etc. I admire your energy and your determination! And did I mention that you look better today than 10 years ago? That tells it all!
I’ve been with you since San Francisco. Although I am a bit younger than you I find tons of inspiration from you. I aspire to be just as stylish as you as I age!
Beth,
What a great article. You truly are a class act! I have been following you for many years. I enjoy your fashion sense and have actually purchased items or similar items that you have posted on your blog. You inspire me to look my best whether I’m running to the grocery store, going to the gym or out for dinner. Thank you for giving us mature women a sense of style and direction.
Hi Beth, what a brutally honest, stunning piece of writing about the last 10 years! Well done Madame! Being a Midwestern girl myself but living in California, the first time I saw your pics 10 years ago I said “That’s for me! What cool outfits and great taste!” I can imagine how grueling being on social media can be, I ran a fit biz in LA for 32 years which is also a dog fight.And the best part?Those granddaughters of yours will say that’s my Grandma, look at all she did, look at all she became, look at all the courage she has….. Amen:)