by The Support Staff
A friend turning 50 wants some advice. Feel free to add any of your own.
A usually joshing M. writes to all her friends:
Okay, ladies, I'm 50 today. So I am seeking:
-- words of wisdom from those who have been there/done this
-- words of envy from those who haven't
-- words of any kind to keep me from getting drunk or stoned at my desk before 10 a.m.
The clock is ticking....
When I was a girl, M, over 50 years ago, my pals and I could not wait for the day when we'd grow up. We yearned for the freedom aging would bring into our sheltered lives. We giggled and shivered as we shared our dreams of becoming "real" adults, able to do whatever the hell we wanted to do when we wanted to do it. We'd have men who loved us and babies who needed us and neighbors who sought our advice and company. We'd wear high heels and short skirts and have big boobs. We couldn't wait for lipstick, powder, and paint. ("Is you is, or is you ain't?")
All of the above clearly identifies me as being of that generation (and area of the country) where girls' options (we thought) centered on finding the right husband and bridge club. So, that's enough of that shit, right?
But where was I? Oh yeah . . . itching to grow up.
Not only did we yearn impatiently for adulthood and more independence, we also created a special crystal ball into which we could gaze to see ourselves as we would look when the veil of maturity descended.
Sprawling on the bed on our tummies, we hung over the edge and stared at ourselves in a handmirror. One of us had read that the image in the mirrorwould be THE WAY WE'D LOOK when we grew older.
Sure enough, with flesh falling forward, tiny wrinkles appearing around our mouths, eyes bulging, we saw our future selves.
My advice to you is: Don't do this.
At this age, be happy it's not a gallstone.
Words of wisdom? I have some... Wait, I forgot what they are. That's what happens when you turn 50.
I've done it. Piece of cake. Really good cake, with fresh raspberries.
Beth and I are the only ones of us who have, I believe.
I've lived to tell about it.
- We were born into a generation at a time when we didn't have to settle and we are very lucky for all that stuff, even if we didn't know enough to fight hard enough when a lot of it was happening.
- .We look SO much better than our mothers did at this age.
- We look SO much better than about every neighborhood mother there ever was at the time, with the possible exception of Sophia Loren, who didn't live in our neighborhood, but was truly hot.
If you have a significant man in your life be sure to know that he has long time proper crushes on appropriate people. In my case it happens to be Piper Laurie and Shirley Knight....who will always be older than I am. And fatter.
Also, he is the kind of man who while watching The Gilmore Girls with me, notes that, "Kelly Bishop is a babe." (Kelly Bishop played the mother in Dirty Dancing, in her long, wonderful career)
Remember, you are still juicy. And should the day ever come when you are not? they have pills for it now.
Call yourself forty and ten. Sort of like ‘meat and three’ in diner talk, but implies being adult with a wonderful playful kid still hanging around inside.
Think of Lauren Hutton, Bo Derek, Linda Evans, Beverly Johnson, Candace Bergen, all those models with new careers in movies/tv, and remember that the BIG ONE for women is 60. And Gloria Steinem looks really good over 60. Don't sweat the small stuff.
Unless you have neighbors like the woman up the street. Yes, HER name is Jeff, and you probably hope you don’t have friends who do things like this: