Without invoking any comparisons, age truly seems like one of the last taboos of the lingerie industry. Words like “aspirational” get thrown around with careless abandon, and one of the unstated (but wretchedly obvious) components of that aspiration is to be endlessly 22. Maybe 26. If you’re feeling daring.
A week ago, while in New York for lingerie market, I discovered my second gray hair. At least, it’s the second one I saw; there’s more likely a few somewhere up there. While a few years ago, spotting those first few grays may have made me sad or at least distracted, now I understand how growing older is a privilege.
There is beauty in aging. Not the “growing old gracefully” and “look as young as you can for as long as you can” beauty, but the beauty born of experience, of wisdom, of loving yourself, and of caring less regarding what people think about you.
Modelo: Mercy Brewer