Well, at least that’s what I’m telling my sister

My big sis turns 60 today. And how the hell did that happen, she wonders?

Like all of us, she still feels 20 inside. She still likes clothes, makeup, going out to functions, and she’s a tad reluctant to go and pick up her bus pass just yet. Instead she’ll be seeing her youngest son back down to his job in Essex and then going out for a Chinese with the girls.

The dichotomy between how old you are and how old you feel set us talking the other day about our mother, who died a year ago aged 83, and about our gran, our father’s mother, who died at a similar age back in the 1980s. To both of us, both of them always seemed irredeemably ancient - and they dressed accordingly.

Mum was about 40 by the time I remember her and already she wouldn’t go in the sea because ‘it was bad for her insides’. She dressed in elastic-waist trousers and comfy shoes. Add a hairdo just like the Queen, and she didn’t change very much in the next 20 years. I never once saw her in heels or a dress. She gained weight and lost weight and was always on a diet (if she had a pound for every slimming magazine she’d read, she’d be rich, said our father), but her fashion sense never changed. She never learned to drive or had a full-time job, and when my father died she was terrified to live alone and moved in with my sister. She was only 61 but seemed like a tiny little old lady.

Gran, called Nana by us, I only ever remember looking like Ena Sharples from Coronation Street - all curlers and hairnet, in shapeless dun-coloured clothes. She would have been about 62 then, or maybe even younger. The mother of five children, she had no figure to speak of, and above one breast her tops were often see-through - a legacy of her Irish habit of sawing bread across her chest rather than putting it on a table. She never wore a bra and most of the time she didn’t wear her teeth either.

But today is a different world. My sister would cut her own head off with a chainsaw rather than look like this, so much has life changed for women in the past 40 years. This is her with her new car, of which she is very proud, and in which she does many hundreds of miles a year. She owns her own home. Her daily uniform is jeans, loafers and a t-shirt. For walking the dog she puts on one of the big wrap cardigan coats that are so of the moment. She gets her (own) teeth whitened and knows what a mascara tube looks like. Going grey, for the time being, is just not an option.

There’s no question but that for previous generations, 60 was sartorially the end, but now my sis has a statistically excellent chance of living another 25 years or so, so no way is she giving up the fight to look good just yet. More power to her.

So I agree - 60 is the new 40 and that’s good news for me too. You see, I’m 45 but I spent eight years with a crappy bloke, so that makes me 37, and 37’s obviously - what? - the new 25.

It’s great to be back in my twenties.

Deconstructed fashion has some pretty big names, but it also has many smaller players, ranging from one-man-bands making one-off clothes to small firms making limited-edition clothing.

Wall
One of my favourite small companies is Wall. I would LIVE in these clothes if I had the budget. Sticking usually to a narrow palette of greige, beige and black, Wall clothes are very timeless and flattering, and suitable for all figure types - clean, intellectual clothes for women with a brain. The firm concentrates on high-quality fabrics such as alpaca and pima cotton, and loose, wrapped or body-skimming designs with flattering necklines. (more…)

It’s my birthday (again) soon, and maybe that’s why I was reading a couple of articles on mid-life crises today.

One was on BeliefNet, courtesy of the Beyond Blue column by Therese Borchard. Borchard suffers from depression, and so do I, which is why I subscribe (you’d have to go a long way to find us atheists listed on BeliefNet after all - we’re under ‘other faiths’, which I think is a bit rich). But she also referred to an article by Stephanie Weiss in the Wall Street Journal.

Weiss, currently 49, was keen to build an idea that mid-life crises are all to do with hitting the nines, which she calls ‘harbingers of death’, and set out to interview a number of experts on the subject. (more…)

If you haven’t already learned to drive and you’re past 40, it can seem like a giant hurdle, but journalist Maria McCarthy has done it, and now is giving us the benefit of her experience

In the UK, the roads are busier and more packed with traffic than ever, and the pass rates for the driving test are getting ever lower. But all is not lost.

Maria McCarthy has written a book ‘The Girls’ Guide to Losing Your L Plates – how to pass your driving test’ because she herself didn’t pass her test till she turned 40 and she happily admits that she considers it one of the major achievements of her life.

Her book is aimed specifically at women, and covers the nitty gritty of how to find the right instructor (and tactfully extricate yourself from the wrong one), going out practising with family and friends without wrecking your relationship (or their car), coping with driving test nerves and tips on getting the best car insurance.

Maria also deals with a multitude of other issues, including:
* budgeting for the cost of your lessons
* learning to drive if you’re pregnant or have a disability
* the best shoes to learn in
* the ten most common reasons for driving test failure(and how to avoid them) and
* the truth about driving test myths

The Girls’ Guide to Losing Your L Plates is published by Simon and Schuster and is available from Amazon.co.uk