I had the most terrifying experience yesterday ...
I bore myself silly pontificating here on dressing - and on the whole I’m happy with how I look and have a rather evolved idea of what I like.
But I fell in love with a Toast dress. The colours and fabric looked glorious even though it wasn’t the sort of shape I’d usually consider. I wanted it as a sort of deliberately unfashionable, early morning thinking dress. Stalked it even though the website said it was sold out in the sale. Read every one of the forty odd reviews. Checking the site in the middle of the night I saw one in my size (presumably returned) and pounced. Spent feverish waiting days pondering how I could make it look more like my own clothes. Decided to stop being so precious. It arrived.
I looked in the mirror. I looked like the world’s dowdiest woman. It drooped. It made me look like a cube. It changed the shape of my face and took all the light out of my eyes.
I have been careful for years to avoid any slippery slopes. Only buying from shops/designers whose entire range is in line with my desire for the fiercely exceptional. Rejecting anything ‘inoffensive’ (I mean ordinary-ish) or ingratiating. This dress effectively killed me. I could not bundle it back up in its wrapping quickly enough.
So now I know I’m justified in being completely single minded - so I can continue to recognise myself in the mirror.
But OP - I’m sorry, I still think your wrong (-ish) here:
Currently I can still get away with showing my upper arms and legs but there’ll come a day when I can’t.
There is no question of ‘getting away with’. It’s your body. No one else gets to say how you dress it. Millions of women in hotter countries than this wear clothes that expose their elderly arms, or whatever as they go about their daily lives. They look like women, not freaks. I honestly think it’s terrifying that we, here are given to understand that our middle aged, or older, female bodies are not fit to be seen.