The other morning, I caught part of an informercial for an anti-wrinkle product. Said infomercial was hosted by actress Minnie Driver, age 40, extolling the virtues of this product and how it made her look so much younger.
Really? You need to look younger at 40? Exactly how much younger are we talking? It ain't like 40 is ancient. When did it become a crime to actually look your age?
They say a lady doesn't tell her age, but I'll just tell alla y'all right now, I'm 45. FORTY-FIVE. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm thrilled that I've lived long enough to experience all the joys of being a middle-aged woman: weight gain, crazy hormones, gray hair, tiny wrinkles. I earned all that stuff, as inconvenient as some of it may be. And it's all MINE. I plan on keeping my hair red as long as I can, and when I can't anymore, it's going gray. End of story.
Now, granted, I don't look what most people think 45 looks like. I'm fortunate to come from a family of fairly young-looking people, so I do have genetics on my side a little. I also have better science on my side than my parents and grandparents did. Because of that, I think many of us in my age group do look younger at 45 than our parents probably did. I mean, we have sunscreen now that will actually keep you from getting a sunburn (unless you're in Jamaica, but that's another story).
Why the fascination with youth? It pains me to see women like Joan Rivers and Priscilla Presley go under the knife so many times they look freakish. What's wrong with owning those wrinkles, like Helen Mirren or Judi Dench or Maggie Smith? The Dowager Countess would look ridiculous if she were all young and smooth-faced.
I have to admit, when I had my last birthday, I did have a little bit of a quandary. It was like, "oh shit, I'm 45, I guess I have to start acting like an adult now." This lasted all of about a week, if that long. I already gave up ultra-short skirts and bikinis awhile back (although it nearly killed me to admit I just wasn't shaped properly for them anymore), but I ain't turning in my collection of skulls, or my quirky t-shirts, or my crazy shoes, or my outrageous eyeglasses. Nope. Not happening. I may be getting older, but I still plan on having fun, even when my hair goes all gray. Heck, when that happens, I may just shave my head and wear turbans all the time.
Till next time --- be proud of your age. Namaste.