This comment on Passage des Perles' blog this morning caught my attention:

"She was a good twenty years older than the rest of the clientele, the age of several mothers patiently waiting. Though she had the tennis-taut body the dress demanded, her face, lovely in its maturity, was an utter mismatch with the gown, a graceful Georgian row house paired with fake mullions. Marina and I whispered, No. It wasn't the black, it was the ditzy array of cutaways and flourishes, the sheer busyness you can carry at twenty, but not so well at forty-something."

http://passagedesperles.blogspot.ca/

Is "busyness" our enemy if we are trying to dress in a more "grownup", sophisticated way? I'm trying to work this out in my mind. How does one wear pattern, sequins, metallics, and embellishment after forty without looking ditzy? When does the word "cute" become a negative adjective?