Shhh. Lean in closely. I need to tell you a secret.
I’m two seconds from turning 39, and I’m already digging the mature lady stores.
My personal favorite? Soft Surroundings.
The crisp creases in tailored pants, embellished tunics, $90 nightgowns, washable jersey dresses with thick elastic waist leggings, statement necklaces—all of it. It is speaking to me in mature lady language I am just beginning to understand. It draws me in with promises of goblets full of white wine, dancing barefoot in a French pedicure underneath an outdoor crystal chandelier, Joan Lunden haircuts circa 1993, and pensive glances while sniffing floral bouquets: everything that not long ago would throw me into the tornadic spins of a rage spiral but now hypnotically draws me in.
I’ve even written a poem about it (this turns into a really great song after two or five glasses of Cabernet):
Come along, to my magical wonderland
Full of cats, white wine, and smiles.
This ruched bedspread features 47 ruffles,
And yet it is not enough.
Peek with me through these tonal raw silk curtains
At my neighbor Deborah in her reverie;
We will all delight in the beauty of the morning
Wearing dry clean only rayon caftans,
Barefoot and free.
*There are 14 more stanzas.
If you’re not yet familiar with Soft Surroundings, don’t worry—you will be. This is how one becomes sucked into their vortex of linen leisure wear:
- You receive Soft Surroundings catalogs in the mail for three years, consistently tossing them in the trash without a glance.
- The catalog arrives in year four, and your subconscious tells you the woman on the cover in the crinkled broom skirt and belted gauze top smiling at no one in particular and drinking a glass of wine will no longer be ignored.
- You give in to this cover model, an extra seemingly pulled from some Diane Lane romp-through-Tuscany film, and cautiously flip through the pages.
- You make up terrible jokes about how ridiculous it all is, post them on Facebook, and then secretly visit the store to see what experiencing perimenopause with a closet full of viscose tunics and eyelash-fringed Euro shams would be like.
Visiting an actual Soft Surroundings store smells like the tranquil home of a woman who favors the shabby chic life and endless varieties of shirts with snap-cuff, roll-tab sleeves.
To determine if you are, in fact, a Soft Surroundings woman, you will agree with or respond affirmatively to the following:
- “Sensual,” “luxurious,” “carefree,” “elaborately smocked hemline,” “epicurean,” and “mysterious” are all words you would use to describe your ideal romantic relationship or candle scent.
- Your online dating profile would read: “Urban gypsy loves floral prints and the color aubergine. Come away with me to Morocco so I can better utilize my collection of beaded tunics and bangle bracelets. Or, we can just drink a bunch of wine on my patio, and I will wear my $150 genteel gauze pajama set.”
- “Tunic,” “caftan,” “cami,” “shrug,” “cowel top,” “weekend tank,” and “embellished thong sandal” are each part of your general vocabulary.
- A man’s penis will never crawl inside itself upon viewing an elaborately ruched comforter, toile chaise lounge, and pile of silk, anti-wrinkle pillowcases in dusty rose and periwinkle.
If moving up in age entails dressing like a woman with unattainable notions of romance who needs to eat, pray, love her way around Provence to recover barefoot and get perpetually drunk on Cabernet in a Victorian nightgown, then I’m not quite ready for it. But if it means wandering about my home, buzzed and barefoot in a chiffon tunic and no pants for 30 more years, then deal me in.
Stay tuned for my next pieces “Dress Barn: For the Times You Want to Pretend You’re Mad Men‘s Joan Holloway or Megan Draper in the Privacy of a Suburban Strip Mall Dressing Room” and “Marshalls: Where You Go for Affordable Shoes but End Up Buying 27 Throw Pillows Because They Are Next to the Seasonal Decor and Kitchenware and You Can’t Tear Yourself Away (Again).”
**For reference, I asked my Facebook friends if they had any strong feelings about the Soft Surroundings catalog, and they responded with varying degrees of familiarity:
Leslie: “My strong feeling is that in order to afford the clothes in that catalogue I’d have to sell a kidney.”
Wendy: “Soft Surroundings sounds like a bad adult contemporary album.”
Cat: “One day I walked into the Soft Surroundings store at La Cantera (I’d never heard of it before, so [I] decided to explore), and nothing seemed particularly soft, so I walked out.”
Heather: “I wish I had a caftan-wearing life!”
Me: “Barefoot, wearing a caftan, and drinking a glass of wine is how I want to move through life.”
Shelby: “Soft Surroundings’ catalogue is the place where Nora Roberts’ characters come to LIFE. (NOW THERE IS PUBLIC DOCUMENTATION THAT I HAVE READ NORA ROBERTS.)”
Lauren: “It’s hard not to have strong feelings about the Midnight Garden Dress, perfect for conjuring spells and capturing hearts. $128 seems like a steal.”
Nora: “My mom loves that store!”
