Reaching 80, one should feel free, I think, to neglect, if not ignore, some social constraints that had been mandatory earlier in life, save those demanded of courtesy, of course. So, I dress as strikes my fancy, against common sense, often in the styles prevalent in my youth half a century ago, in particular those in the days of Twiggy, twiggy that I was and still am myself. Mini shifts I wore regularly, very short; I also favored slip dresses, also very short. Now past 82 I still delight, as I habitually did all the time, in 16-inch mini skirts, at times going naughtily as short as 12-13 inches, shamelessly exposing my chopstick thighs all the way up, As I get older my fashion taste runs younger. Of late I fancy skater mini skirts with fully circular pleats that I can swing and flirt in, and I am rediscovering A-line Baby Doll dresses favored by tweenies. Ridiculous, even outrageous, as I am sure in the eyes of some friends and bystanders, it is to me more important that I feel good comporting myself in what I love to wear, and I do. Eccentric me, yes, but then those who have known me long well know that I have always been so. It’s just I am more so now -- well well outside the circle. “At seventy, I could follow my heart's desire without bending what was right,” so said our venerable Confucius. Humbly, I add “At eighty, I feel free to tweak what society deems right.” But I don’t wear tight short shorts and hot pants in vogue lately among the young and not-so-young on the streets of New York.