National Poetry Month: 'When I Am Old, I Shall Wear Purple...'

Poet and writer Jenny Joseph, born in 1932 in Birmingham England, an industrial working class town, penned many poems. The most famous by far is a whimsical ode to growing old, entitled Warning. The famed Red Hat Society, comprised of older ladies who scorn convention uses this poem for its mantra. I've reproduced it here. Read it through and let it take you where the poem will. I'll throw in my tuppence afterwords.

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in the slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

-Jenny Joseph, 1961

I remember reading this poem before the Red Hat phenomenon. What struck me was the pathos not of a life mispent on conventionalities, but rather perhaps an untapped personhood. This poem is a coming of age poem in a different time. In order to appreciate this poem, you must have spent a part of your life, typically childhood, teen years and/or young adulthood playing a part, following conventions, living the 'sobriety of youth.' Some conventions are necessary. Feeding and clothing the children. Paying the bills, the 'butter and egg' man. Other conformities are more artificial contructs: wearing red and purple, hoarding beer mats and pens, sitting on the sidewalk when we are tired.

To me this poem is just what the title implies. A warning. To all those in our lives who have created the constructs and defined us by the constructs we follow, the roles we play, the masks we wear. This is a warning that although we may have followed the conventions and you came to expect that we always would, we are persons of individuality. And that although we have denied ourselves certain guilty pleasures all our life, such as 'eating three pounds of sausage at a go' or 'spending the pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin sandals' we may break that mold when we are old.

One expects eccentric behavior from the very old. But one might be shocked when a younger person breaks things. Jenny Joseph is letting everyone know that maybe our loved ones might want to stop taking us for granted; that we may not wish to wait until we are very old to begin exploring our individuality. And each will look different. That's the beauty of individuality. I may wear orange and blue and eat artichokes and baby swiss cheese for a week. Or I may run barefoot through a mud puddle and play in the rain.

There's a nice quote from the Frank Capra film, It's a Wonderful Life. 'Youth is wasted on the young.' To me, Jenny Joseph is saying, 'Live in the bloom of youth!' For more on reading and writing poetry, visit me at www.thereadersgarden.blogspot.com and www.thewritersgarden.blogspot.com