Do You Think About Sex When You Pick Out What to Wear?

Deconstructing Perimenopause Wardrobe Malfunctions in the Mind

The trees outside my office window are experiencing a shift. They’re tired of being green, and I’m excited about it. I have the window open for the breeze, the same force that’s causing many of those red-tipped leaves to let go and fall. Spring was a long time ago. Summer will soon be forgotten.

I’m wondering. Does your fashion sense determine your sex life?

I want to say no. As if maturity, intellect, experience, and confidence have lofted my closet. And I want to say yes, the way those very features enhance the pursuit of pleasure. (See I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself.)

But I’m not Summer with her verdant languor; I’m Autumn, a season of complexity, variegation, and shift. I enjoy a toasty snip of whiskey with a thoughtful analysis of plot structure almost in equal measure with a day spent under a blanket in a dark room like a potato. I think my answer to this question is changing, like me, and I suspect, like the wider culture among women my age. Still both/and but headed into an eventual firm no. How long can we put that off? How many of us want to? 50 isn’t old, not anymore. 50 also isn’t young.

I don’t know if this tension is because Gen X isn’t aging the way older generations did. Or if it’s because perimenopause is like another wave of diabolical puberty. Or maybe it’s because I’m straight. (It was recently suggested that life might be easier—and sexier— if I could be a lesbian. More on that below.) It could have a lot to do with patriarchy and probably does, but how that shows up in my life is different than before, and we now have excellent HRT options too.

Perhaps most interesting to me of all is that this angst has little to do with relationship status and actual sexual attention. The correlation between fashion and sex at 50 is much more complex than either. Which is why I’m deconstructing my beliefs about it. I’m not sure I believe what I think.

(Side note that’s relevant to October 2024: I’m breaking a personal rule here. This post contains real-time deconstruction. I’m chest-deep in a manuscript rewrite for The Soul of Healing, and live-processing is what I have time to share.)