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As I Get Older, I Care Less About Being Demure

Let’s normalize bold and brazen, not passive and agreeable


spinner image illustration of a woman from the 50s wearing white gloves
For much of her life, writer Susan Moeller was told to be quieter, sweeter, more modest. She didn’t like it then and has no plans to embrace the recent #demure trend that’s taking over fall.
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When my mother went downtown, she wore a hat and white gloves.

Very demure. Very mindful.

When I went to ballroom dancing class at age 11, I wore white anklets instead of nylons, lest anyone think I was a tramp.

Very demure, very mindful.

When I went on job interviews in my 20s, I tried not to appear too pushy.

Very demure, very mindful.

Geesh. What a drag.

You’ll excuse me if I’m a little confused by the current #demure trend that started on TikTok and Instagram and is now seeping (or rather gushing) into the rest of the culture as we head into fall. Should I be laughing or crying?

The originator of the trend is Jools Lebron (@joolieannie), an influencer who posted a clip on TikTok where she described her workday makeup as “very demure, very mindful.” For the office, she says, she forgoes heavy eye makeup (“green cut crease”) and low-cut shirts so she doesn’t “look like a clown when I go to work.”

Lebron has since said the clip was meant to be a joke. But the internet, as it does, had already gone wild, and the phrase took on a life of its own. Check the #demure hashtag and you’ll find it referenced by everyone from RuPaul to a golden retriever to the White House, not to mention the fashion industry, which is kicking off demure fall with more modest hemlines.

Yikes. This is a blast from my past that I don’t want to revisit.

For a good chunk of my life, I was told to tamp it down: Don’t be so emotional. Don’t speak so loudly. Don’t laugh so hard. Don’t question authority. Obey the rules. Listen quietly when the men are talking. Cross your ankles. Beware of what you say to the boys, so they don’t think you’re “fast.” Couch your desires in sweet talk. What you want will come to you if you’re just demure enough and act like a lady.

What a bunch of corn pudding.

I once sat in my boss’ office trying to be demure as he — while considering my application for a promotion — asked if I had plans to have children anytime soon.

You want me to be demure in the face of that? How about when male coworkers were making more than I was — or couldn’t keep their hands to themselves?

Look, I’m all about good manners. As Lebron says in another video, filmed from an airplane, “You see how I am when the plane lands? I don’t get up immediately, I don’t rush, I wait my turn … very mindful, very demure.” And joking or not, she’s got a point. I should be so lucky as to sit next to Lebron instead of the seatmate who jumps up and grabs a 30-pound roller bag from the overhead bin across the aisle, narrowly missing my head. And how about we all just have a little patience while waiting in line for our lattes?

But demure — such a lovely, old-fashioned word — isn’t about manners. It’s about passivity, batting your eyes and waiting for a guy to ask you to dance. Having good manners means being polite and respectful when you ask a guy to dance.

And not to put too serious a twist on this, but there are places in the world like Afghanistan where women are required by law to be demure, as well as invisible and silent. Even in this country, many of us have fought for decades so women can choose to be as demure, or not, as they wish. Of course, that’s what gives us the freedom to joke about it now.

In time, I wore nylons despite the social consequences and learned how to stare down my boss. Even my mother traded in her hats and gloves for pants and a sweater.

Did you know that Jenny Joseph’s classic poem — with the opening line “When I am an old woman I shall wear purple” — is titled “Warning”? Enough of demure, already. Can we, as Joseph advises, let go of the “sobriety” — aka demureness — of our youth?

I certainly have — if I ever even had it at all. So buckle up, #demurefall, because the older I get, the less I care about being anyone other than who I am.

AARP essays share a point of view in the author’s voice, drawn from expertise or experience, and do not necessarily reflect the views of AARP.

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