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Yep — and we can still look great by going for an upgrade of our old Model T look from 30 or more years ago for an uplift that bespeaks sophistication, style and confidence.

How to get there? Well, if you’re like me, it took time. I spent hours perusing magazines and online outlets without a care for anyone else’s approval except that of the Good Lord and my own.

Then it happened one night. After my son and I finished praying our Holy Rosaries for an ailing friend, we decided to watch a flick on DVD. It was Lord Peter Wimsey’s mystery series adapted to film and penned by the brilliant Dorothy Sayers.

From the moment Lord Peter’s love interest (later to become his wife) entered the first scene, it was a done deal — I’d found the right hairstyle for me, even if it was from the 1930s. I couldn’t wait to arrange for this overhaul — hair, makeup, clothes, the works. But at this point, my son looked at me with concern.

Related: A Mom’s Guide to Sanity for Life

“Mom, you’re not going to ask me to go with you, are you?”

We burst out laughing. Of course he wouldn’t want to be seen by his friends at the mall with an old lady trying to become a better looking old lady.

When the day came that I was leaving the salon, my once-long hair chopped off and coiffed into a wedge cut, I thought I noticed a few people turn their heads — and I smiled. I thought, I’ve become that Harriet Vane character — but without Lord Peter!

Related: The Day I Taught My Son to Swim in the Ocean

Still, it didn’t end there. With my blonde now gone — my hair color was its own natural ash blonde with silver streaks — and having junked my once-cutesy wardrobe as well as my plethora of heavy glitz makeup, I opted for a minimal look of color to highlight all the right places. By day’s end, I pushed through the front door with a load of shopping bags. My son smiled with pride — he loved the way I looked — and what a reward for a mom, as it was his wisdom that had gotten the ball rolling.

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The best feeling of all, however, was a selfish one. At long last, I felt free of the burdens of trying to look and be something that wasn’t possible. I took a deep breath and stood in front of the hall mirror for a moment. I was exhilarated: I saw a happy and thriving woman — and I liked what I saw.

The author, a retired attorney, is a published poet and columnist based in Arizona; she is a regular contributor to LifeZette. [lz_pagination]