It seems like it's counter to the idea of the original poem in some ways. The woman in the poem was going to wear what she wanted and not worry about what other people thought. But once other people don't think, "How inappropriate for an older lady! Has she gone mad?" or even, "How refreshing that she is willing to be so eccentric!" but rather, "It's one of those ladies from that club again; they were in Perkins just last week," it stops being about individuality and starts being about herds of people again.

(And also, with our current culture and medical system, 50 is way too young to start counting oneself as old. My grandparents have just started to be old in the last few years, and Grandpa turns 80 on 2/1.)