Never worry about what others think, as they will think it anyway, there is only one anti-ageing serum I would recommend … and don’t lie about how old you are
What do women really want? To be told: “Good on ya for that Nobel prize.” Too often, people seem to think it is, “You’ve lost weight,” or, “You don’t look your age” – which is just a way of saying: “Well done, you, for not being on this planet long and for not taking too much space on it.”
There is a form of insanity that kicks in at the age you are told you ought to start Botox – your mid-20s. That’s when the lies about how old you are start. Geri Halliwell said she was 21 when she joined the Spice Girls; she was actually 25. All sorts of people have lied about their age: Joseph Stalin, Nancy Reagan, Sandra Bullock, Eminem.
Civilians do it, too. Online dating is ridden with it. People are knocking 10 years off their ages in that old knocking shop. Men add inches to their height, which is fine as long as they spend the whole evening sitting down. Women pretend they are looking forward to their 40th birthday. Big lies, little lies … I have colleagues who are vague about their age. Some of them appear to have had children when they were seven. Miraculous, really. I get why they think the media is not a good country for old women. Few of us are left. So “work” has to be done, constant gym-going, good lighting and avoiding bingo (wings). Toned arms for ever. Still, this is a losers’ game, being ashamed of your own maturity.
This is on my mind. I have a big birthday this week. I am older than Nigel Farage – let’s put it that way. Sure, I don’t like the general deterioration – jowls, knees, hangovers – but I have already lived longer than my mum managed to, so, you know, that’s something, considering all the stupid things I have done.
Should I feel reticent about my general dilapidation, my laps round the block? Our culture says yes. It tells me women are past it at 35. It tells me I must age only in the manner of someone who was once a model. It employs a bizarre lexicon of “milfs” and “cougars” that means zilch to me. Or it says: look at Madonna – and I am delighted to. It’s her job, after all, to look and be incredible.
I gaze upon our youth, especially in this weather, as they glow with urgency, and I remember all that fondly, but I know that my time is now. The anxiety of menopause has come and gone and let me know that my energy is now for me – that I am responsible for my own happiness. I have spent my disposable income on getting “work” done, not on my face (too late), but on my brain. I went back to college. This is the only anti-ageing serum I would recommend.
That doesn’t make me like my belly or my lines any more, but you know what? As I know too many folk who didn’t make it; as I have friends with terminal illness, well, priorities and all that. Is it wonderful to be desired, as one is when one is young? Yes. But is that the meaning of life? That is for you to decide.
We are told that women my age are embarrassing, while men my age are hitting their prime – but surely in this era of self-identification, we all know the inside doesn’t match the outside – and I am actually 14. Hopefully, I will get the documents soon.
The only wisdom I have accrued is that it doesn’t help to worry about what others think, as they will think it anyway. Don’t act out of obligation. You are allowed to waste your own time. As Nora Ephron said of a friend who had tongue cancer and so couldn’t eat a last meal: “Have your last meal all the time.” This is how I intend to live. I am not fooling myself or anyone else about my age. So: 60. Bring it on. I want all the cake.
Why does a Christian like Theresa May not stand up to Trump?
The vicar’s daughter held his hand. Again. The head of the Church of England entertained him with a fixed grin. She is the Queen. He barged in front of her, a 92-year-old woman, because he is Donald Trump.
Assembled journalists sat in rows while he free-associated and lied. May simpered.
What happened to Christianity, to morality, to decency? We have seen the traumatised kids snatched away from their parents. What kind of Christian stands by and says nothing?
Steve Bannon is being interviewed everywhere. Farage looms. Boris Johnson is welcomed back into the arms of the Telegraph. Arron Banks hides. These people are supporting fascism, white supremacism and Russian interference in our democracies.
Yet everyone, apart from the demonstrators, were polite to Trump. He got what he wanted and Melania got to act out a Disney princess role. We got nothing – don’t talk about trade deals until there is one. I always thought that the British media would be less cowed than the US press. I was wrong. Right now, it is emboldening out-and-out fascism.
Christianity, of course, figures in the Bannon ideology of the apocalyptic clash of Judaeo-Christianity against Islam. The adulation of Russia is because it is a white power.
Johnson lies. Trump lies. Piers Morgan runs around like a dog who fornicates with any old stuffed toy. All this reverence is utterly misplaced. These people do not respect us. Nor are they polite. They broke the rules. We no longer need to keep them.
Poor Elon Musk. Well, he is not poor exactly, but he is a prize pranny. He has thrown his super-expensive toys out of his pram because Vern Unsworth, one of the divers who helped in the Thai cave rescue, did not think much of Musk’s mini-submarine. I am no expert in the logistics of cave diving, but it seemed obvious that a 170cm (5ft 6in) sub was not going to fit through narrow, winding tunnels. When Unsworth pointed this out, Musk then tweeted that he was a “pedo”. Nice. Maybe it’s a bit like Roseanne’s racism which was caused by Ambien. As Musk once tweeted: “A little red wine. Vintage record, some Ambien … and magic.” Or, in this case, libel.