"Many women fight tooth and bicep to delay arrival to this place. Midlife makes them feel invisible to men and somehow diminished, despite their accomplishments. No wonder all those big, fancy cosmetics companies and plastic surgeons frame their age-defying pitches in the feminist language of "rights" and "choices." They understand that some women see youthful physical beauty as an expression of their power," Hampson writes. But instead of trying to expose the youth-obsessed marketing ploys for the bullshit they are, Hampson instead decides that if women want to enjoy aging, they also need to enjoy the repulsive lingo that has popped up to describe their changing bodies.

Hampson declares that it is WOMEN who come up with these horrific terms: "they develop names for the various age-signifying bits that can seem as offensive as teenage behaviour, prompting a need for strict control," she writes, before chastising women for not loving themselves as much as the men in their lives surely do: "The names suggest annoyance, never love or fondness of the type men have for some of their parts. Which is unfortunate. Don't you love your teenager, despite his long, greasy hair?The cure, ladies, is to laugh." She then presents an appalling list of "funny terms," complete with terrible illustrations, designed to help us all celebrate the humor in calling a woman's "pooch" a "Menopot."

Yes, ladies, we should all get a big kick out of hilarious terms like "bingo wings" and "saddlebags," as really, there's nothing more hilarious than insulting a woman's natural aging process by attaching a degrading phrase to it. Those wrinkles around your lips from a lifetime of smiling? "Vampire Dinner Lips." The natural shifting of your bottom due to aging? "Old Lady Butt." That wrinkle between your eyes from frowning, or, god forbid, thinking? "The Bitch Wrinkle, also known as Chapter Eleven (an appropriate illusion to bankruptcy, given the cost of Botox)." Charming.

As Gwen at Sociological Images writes, "The article presents itself as an antidote to women's obsession with their bodies and aging, a way to help women laugh and accept their bodies. But the images that accompany it, clearly meant to make the figures into objects of ridicule, make it hard to imagine how they would achieve such an objective. Reading it just made me aware of all kinds of things I'd never heard of or particularly noticed before." Blogger Jessalynn Keller at Brazen Beauties agrees, noting that "it's articles like these that make women so self conscious about their 'aging female parts.'"

Perhaps if Hampson really wants women to love their aging bodies, she should stop pushing the same old sexist bullshit and leave "bingo wings" and "bitch wrinkles" to fratboys and douchebags. Holding up "bitch wrinkles" as some type of liberating phrase isn't helping any of us celebrating the aging process—if anything, embracing these terms is a sign of giving in to the pressures, rather than fighting against them. These terms are designed to help people laugh at women, not with them. Hampson may think it's a good idea to join in the fun, but I'm pretty sure most of us can age quite happily without ever hearing the term "bingo wings" ever again.

Body Lexicon For Aging Female Bodies [Sociological Images]
The Never Ending Critique Of Girls' And Womens' Bodies [Brazen Beauties]
Obsession With Female Body Parts Has Created A New Body Lexicon [Globe And Mail]

It is nearly impossible to avoid the anti-aging machine, an industry goldmine that cranks out thousands of products promising eternal youth, or, at the very least, a postponement of our natural progression into old age. There are creams to fight off wrinkles, creams to fight off crow's feet, injections to erase laugh lines, and surgeries to lift one's face up in order to create an illusion of youth. But is any of it really worth it?

Writing for the LA Times, Stacie Stukin explores the "youth in a bottle" phenomenon, finding that for many women, anti-aging creams are as essential as everyday necessities like toothpaste and deodorant. Even with the knowledge that many of these overpriced creams may not really work, women cling to them, choosing to believe they are working, if only for peace of mind." 44-year-old Sharyn Belkin Locke tells Stukin that she remains loyal to her pricey brand because she doesn't trust anything else, even if the product doesn't exactly produce the results it promises: "There are so many products out there that claim to do this or that. Do you really ever see that kind of difference? I never do."

I use a drugstore anti-aging cream that costs about 20 bucks and makes my skin feel really nice. It also doesn't burn my sensitive skin, which is a plus. I started using it at 25, in a panic, after I read that women should begin an anti-aging routine at that age to stave off the aging process as long as possible. I already have crow's feet and laugh lines, due to, you know, laughing a lot, and having an eating disorder for seven years didn't help things either. But after a while I realized that my skin was not improving because of the anti-aging cream as much as it was improving because I was maintaining a healthy weight and eating well. The internal changes I was making, versus the external, were what was showing on my face. I still have laugh lines and crow's feet, but I like them, and I don't use the cream to "fight off" the aging process anymore as much as I use it because, like Locke mentioned above, it's a nice moisturizer and I trust it on my skin.

I also got a reality check the last time I went to purchase a tube: while looking around the aisles, the Walgreens cosmetic counter woman called out, "Oh no, honey, teen skin creams are on the other side of the aisle." My first thought was, "Oh, snap!" My second thought was, "Oh, shit, she thinks I need Stridex pads. Do I have a zit? Where is it? Oh shit." You can never, ever win.

Dr. Laurence Rubenstein tells the LA Times that "There isn't a cure for aging because it isn't a disease. It's a natural and complex process that involves every system in the body." In other words, we're all going to age, no matter what we inject into our faces. There are, of course, ways to stop the aging process from happening too soon: quitting smoking, eating well, etc. But those things aren't easy for many people, and they certainly won't be boxed and sold at Bloomingdales for $200 an ounce.

Rebecca Seal of the Observer argues that even the most extreme anti-aging treatments aren't fooling anybody: "If you do get the pillow-faced look that's in vogue, you don't look better, you just look like someone who's had fillers in your cheeks and lips, injections in your brow, and perhaps a tiny little face-lift." In a youth-obsessed culture, the public is still quite aware of the difference between someone who is young and someone who "appears youthful."

I doubt that the anti-aging market is going anywhere anytime soon: beauty creams have been around for thousands of years, as evidenced by a recent discovery of a 2,000 year old cream in Italy that was comprised of "fatty acids in high abundance," the same "miracle ingredients" found in many of today's anti-aging creams.

Perhaps the best way to fight the anti-aging madness is to find a way to embrace the natural aging process while maintaining a sense of Perhaps if we celebrated older men and women in our culture as much as we celebrate 15 year olds, we'd all see that beauty isn't about a lineless face or a "youthful" glow, but about a face that tells a story of a life well-lived, a life of many laughs and smiles. My 84-year-old neighbor is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, with stark white hair and bright blue eyes and a face that matches her deep, powerful laugh. She's also fiercely independent, quite wacky, and one of the strongest people I have had the honor of knowing. If they could bottle that, I'd pay a million dollars for it.

It's not as if I still don't get roped into the anti-aging madness every now and again—it's hard not to, especially when you see your peers jumping through hoops to maintain a younger appearance, and I'm sure as I get older, it will be even harder to have a "fuck it, I love my wrinkles" attitude 24/7. There are times when it feels like you'll be the only person with a wrinkle on her face in 50 years, though perhaps it we all concentrate more on protecting our bodies from the true ravages of aging by focusing on healthy habits to reduce our risks of cancer, heart disease, and osteoporosis, we'll find that a healthy interior will reflect itself on our exterior, as health, strength, and caring for one's body will provide the type of confidence that no cream ever could.

Eternal Youth Is An Ugly Obsession [The Observer]
Aging: You Can Hurry It, But You Can't Slow It [LA Times]
Youth In A Jar? Probably Not, But We Buy It Anyway [LA Times]
2,000 Year Old Cream Shows Aristocrat's Taste [MSNBC]

It's an understandable yet flawed system: we want to protect minors from things that we don't feel they are ready for, developmentally, and we want to protect ourselves from the effects of time, as our bodies are, as Fiona says, extraordinary machines—machines that require care and maintenance and that have, whether we like it or not, a breaking point. Being aware of one's age, in terms of health issues and developmental issues, seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to ask of people. But what about those "rules" that are supposed to apply to everyone based only on numbers that really don't have anything to do with health or maturity?

There's a shot in the opening credits of What Not To Wear that declares "No Mini Skirts After 35," a sign that plays into the notion that women should cover up once they hit that number, as if a 34-year-old can rock a miniskirt like nobody's business, only to turn into a hideous freak the day she turns 35. On the other hand, we have celebrities like Gwen Stefani, 39, who wear whatever the hell they want, because they can, and why shouldn't they? When it comes to "age appropriate" clothing, perhaps it's not so much about numbers as it is about one's own confidence and ability to pull off trends and styles without looking like they are trying to be anything but themselves.

Shane Watson of the Times of London takes on the shady ground of "age appropriate" clothing, noting that magazines praise women over 40 who make the attempt to be trendy and shrug off old "rules," such as Michelle Obama and Helen Mirren, who wear gorgeous, skin-baring ensembles instead of, oh, I don't know, Quacker Factory sweaters or whatever the hell it is that people think women over 35 should wear. However, Watson notes, the old "rules" are still stuck in the minds of many women, who feel that they can't do certain things, like show their arms, because it's not considered appropriate after a certain age. "We still fall back on the same old mantras: fortysomethings shouldn't wear short skirts; bikinis are undignified past 38," Watson writes, "Every time we open a magazine, we see confirmation that what counts is not age but body shape and confidence. But still those rules that applied to the pre-Pilates-and-sushi generation keep sucking us back to what is and isn't age-appropriate."

I have seen my mother struggle with these rules when she puts outfits together for special occasions. "I can't wear that," she'll sigh, looking at a beautiful gown, "I'm too old." Bullshit, Mom. You can wear it and you should. Unfortunately, my mother, like many other women, has internalized these old rules, and instead of buying clothing that makes her feel beautiful (and that looks great, too) she plays it safe, for fear of offending anyone.

There's a flip side to this, however: too often, we see 15 year old girls dressed like 25 year olds. The age appropriate factor comes into play here, as well: the trick, I suppose, is finding a balance between trendy and too much. It's a tough spot for most women (and girls), as the trends aren't often aimed at people above or below a certain age, yet that's what all of the clothing manufacturers offer. So how can one be trendy and still be "age appropriate?"

Watson presents her readers with a guide to dressing age-appropriately without looking dowdy or like they are trying too hard. Overall, the list emphasizes tailoring, fit, and how confident one feels. I'd guess that for young girls, it's more about dressing fun, as opposed to overtly sexual. It's a weird world we live in, where women are being pushed to look younger, younger, younger and young girls are being pushed to look older, older, older. Perhaps instead of pushing people to dress older or dress younger, we can finally figure out a way to make "age appropriateness" something that inspires confidence and creativity, as opposed to dread and a feeling that one's stylish days are over as soon as a certain number appears on their birthday cake.

Breaking The Fashion Rules [Times Of London]

The parody asks questions like this one:

3. The last time you ate a Pop-Tart was:

_ When I was 6
_ When I was 15
_ Am currently eating a Pop-Tart

But the real RealAge test — at least two knockoffs of which now exist as Facebook apps — asks annoying stuff like your blood pressure and the much you drink and smoke, all to determine a number that is apparently more accurate than the actual number of years you have existed on this Earth. More accurate how, you ask? Well, since the RealAge homepage is chock-full of diet links, we guess your RealAge is supposed to reflect how old you look — you know, because fat=old and old=bad.

But it's also supposed to measure how healthy you are, aka how far you are from dying. It's a well-known fact that all deaths are caused by a person's RealAge being too high, which in turn is caused by doing naughty things like drinking, smoking, being stressed out, and failing to take RealAge tests. If you get in fatal car accident, your RealAge was probably 100 — if only you'd had the foresight to visit RealAge.com!

Seriously, just one obnoxious aspect of the RealAge test is its insinuation that getting old and being unhealthy are your fault, and can be avoided by dropping a jeans size and eating fruits and veggies. Another disturbing wrinkle: if you answer yes to any of the sites many offers of a free RealAge membership, your info will be added to a database that drug companies can access. The result, according to the Times, is that companies can send you marketing emails. Some of these emails may try to sell you drugs for diseases your info indicates you might have, even if you haven't actually been diagnosed with them.

Also upsetting is the implication that you should do things because they make you younger, and not because you enjoy them. RealAge's tagline is "Live Life to the Youngest" — they've handily replaced fulfillment and enjoyment with youth. Another Times article provides a depressing example of this mindset — apparently, listening to classical music now makes you younger. "Listening to finer music and attending concerts on a consistent basis makes your real age about four years younger," says Dr. Michael Roizen, "chief wellness officer of the Wellness Institute at the Cleveland Clinic."

The article includes some interesting thought on potential musical therapies for ailments like anxiety and insomnia, and we're perfectly willing to believe that music can be good for you. But it's also just good, and fun, and the idea that it's supposed to make you younger takes away some of the intrinsic joy and power of it. We're not saying you should be eating bacon-and-cigarette sandwiches every day and playing in traffic for dessert. But if you do everything in life with an eye toward turning back the clock, you're eventually going to be very disappointed.

How Old Are You Really? Can You Pick Up a Pencil? [New York Times]
Online Age Quiz Is a Window for Drug Makers [New York Times]
Composing Concertos in the Key of Rx [New York Times]

Earlier: Real Age Vs. Body Age: Apparently, We Are All Britney Spears

A study conducted by researchers at the University of Virginia tested the cognitive skills of over 2,000 participants ranging in age from 18-60. "The people involved – who were mostly in good health and well-educated – had to solve visual puzzles, recall words and story details and spot patterns in letters and symbols," the Daily Mail notes. 22 year olds had the best scores; after the age of 27, scores began to drop off, particularly in the areas of reasoning, spatialization, and speed of thought.

"Results converge on a conclusion that some aspects of age-related cognitive decline begin in healthy, educated adults when they are in their 20s and 30s," wrote Professor Timothy Salthouse, who believes that therapies designed to prevent the aging of the brain need to start much earlier in order to prevent cognitive deterioration.

So in the spirit of being more proactive, here's something to get you started on better understanding your brain:



Old Age Begins At 27: Scientists Reveal New Research Into Aging [Daily Mail]

Shane Watson writes about the pressures women put on themselves to achieve certain milestones by a certain age in today's Sunday Times, noting that women often overlook or belittle their own accomplishments simply because they feel they aren't "keeping up" with their peers. "This is why so many women are dissatisfied, despite seeming to have it all," Watson writes "because they can't see how much they have achieved, only the missed deadlines and other women's superior capability."

Nothing we do, explains Watson, is satisfying when we constantly compare ourselves to other women; the dreaded "shoulds" kick in and we find ourselves dismissing what we've already accomplished because it never seems to match the accomplishments of others- a "grass is always greener" type of phenomenenon that leads many women to feel, as Watson puts it, "useless."

"If you compliment a woman who has just cooked you a three-course dinner, complete with handmade chocolates, she might say: "But I only work four days a week." The dinner doesn't count, because she had time to do it. If you congratulate the publisher and mother of three on her latest chart-topping bestseller, her reaction will probably be: "But I'm such a mess - your life is so organised! Your flat is so lovely!" Watson writes, "When a woman says, 'I'm useless, you're the extraordinary one", it's because that's exactly how she feels. And she feels it more than ever now because anything and everything seems possible."

I can personally relate; I have often found myself making "By the time I'm 30, 40, 50" types of promises, and downplaying the things I've accomplished when discovering that my peers are, as I see it, leaps and bounds ahead of me. It's easy to forget that everyone moves on their own schedule, especially in a world that is so focused on obtaining success, wealth, and respect at such a young age.

Watson also provides checklists that women set for themselves; goals to reach by a certain age. At 25, Watson writes, women "typically want to have" such things as "Travelling stripes (outside Europe), A tattoo or nonregulation piercing, and "at least one serious boyfriend." By 35, "Bought your own flat, Been bought jewellery by a man" (ugh), and "Discovered the importance of women." By 45: "Your own office, Discovered your special subject, Children (or godchildren)."

Of course these things are all relatively stereotypical, but there is a bit of truth in the idea that women feel the need to accomplish certain things by certain ages, not the least because there are, of course, biological limits on our bodies, in terms of having children of our own. But Watson's basic argument doesn't lie in the physical as much as it does in the mental: in order to find peace with ourselves, we should stop trying to hit a stupid societal achievement list and celebrate our own accomplishments, finding a sense of pride in who we are at any age.

Why Do Women Feel Useless? [Times Of London]

Jennifer Romolini of Shine attempts to break down the "age appropriate" question by bringing up recent examples from the Screen Actor's Guild awards. Romolini praises 59-year-old Meryl Streep for her "great, classic, age-appropriate outfit," but then goes after Susan Sarandon for "wearing a massively low-cut sleeveless gown. It showed tons of cleavage and also her arms, which are not what they once were." Romolini tries to cover this bit of nastiness by explaining, "I'm not knocking her, we all can relate to this. Even with working out, at 35, my biceps have begun to resemble grande burritos."

In her defense, Romolini notes that as we get older, what is "sexy" changes, and that's a fair point. Usually it's because we realize the things we thought were "sexy" at a younger age now come across as a bit skankified in a way; as we become older, and more comfortable in our bodies and with our sexuality, we don't feel the need to wear club gear out on Thursday nights in order to attract attention. As Romolini notes, "some of what I used to wear now just makes me feel dumb."

"There are two sides to this, obviously," Romolini writes, "One could argue that Sarandon looks great and younger than her 62 years." Well guess what? I'm on that side! Because honestly? Susan Sarandon is 62 years old and wore the hell out of that dress. And for those of us in our 20's and 30's to knock her for her body not being what it "once was" is to perpetuate the idea that women should cover up and sit down once they reach a certain age, thereby setting up a future in which we, too, will be expected to keep our bodies hidden under suitable pantsuits and long sleeves.

Yes, the idea of what is "sexy" and "age appropriate" can change, but to attack a woman for having the confidence to wear a dress that makes her feel sexy is to essentially tell her to cover up because society might not agree. Was she showing some cleavage? Yes. Was she on the red carpet in a Rock of Love Bus ensemble? No. So picking on her body for—gasp—aging! is unfair and unnecessary.

Perhaps instead of attacking older women for continuing to embrace their bodies and carry themselves with confidence and style, we should celebrate their choices. Both Meryl Streep and Susan Sarandon represented women of their age that night, and continued to prove to Hollywood that sexiness can come in many styles, at any age.

Do You Dress "Your Age?"[Shine]

The obvious answer is this: Barbie Orr (real name: Kristine Reinhard) wanted to be somebody else. She changed her name, knocked 18 years off of her age, and allegedly began telling friends how excited she was to finally be getting bit parts in Hollywood. 45-year-old Kristine Reinhard had struggled as a comedienne for years, but 27-year-old Barbie Orr, hot young blonde girlfriend of John Cleese, was surrounded with industry buzz.

Cleese, who is going through a fairly nasty divorce, apparently began dating younger women as a bit of a "screw you" to his ex-wife, Alyce. "I think part of his attraction to these younger women is because it is a bit of a two-fingered salute to Alyce. He wants her to know he's having no trouble attracting girlfriends," a source says. But the revelations about Orr have only increased Cleese's troubles: "This is the last thing John needs. Given what he's been through with this wretched divorce, nobody could blame him having his head turned by this woman. He's a great talent and a good man and nobody wants him to be made a laughing stock when he's feeling like he's already been through the mill."

So why is John Cleese upset? One hopes it's because his girlfriend is a fraud and a liar, and not just because she's 45 instead of 27. As for Orr, who recently assured the public that Cleese has "a nice package," and who has been reveling in her role as Cleese's 27-year-old blonde, she responded to the Daily Mail's claims as such: "This will be career suicide for me if you print that. Please leave out my age - age is a huge thing to pass. It stays for ever. I am a quiet, cheerful, fun person. Print 35 if that makes them feel better. . . but not 45!" On her supposedly "official" page, however, Barbie notes that the papers " elaborate and twist....and now there are more fake 'facts'!! Obviously my 'facts' were too boring for their entertainment and not much of a story....so they keep making things up!!"

Which leads us to ask this: what the hell is so wrong with being John Cleese's pretty, blonde 45 year old girlfriend? Barbie Orr's pictures are all the same: the only thing that has changed is the age attached to them. In lying about her age, and allowing the media to make a huge deal about it, Orr has played right into the stereotype that younger women are somehow sexier, throwing away an opportunity to present herself as a sexy woman in her 40's. Granted, I am 28 and admittedly do not know what it is like to be a 45-year-old woman, or the pressures one feels at that age, but overall this story makes me angry and gives me the creeps, at both Orr and the media (and Cleese, to a lesser extent) for making such a big bloody deal out of her age in the first place.

What do you think, dear commenters? Can you understand Orr's position? Or is it just another example of women screwing each other over by desperately clinging to the stupid, totally untrue idea that sexiness can only be found in one's 20's?

John Cleese, His Blonde Lover, And The Truth About Her Claim To Be Only 27 [DailyMail]
John Cleese's Girlfriend, Barbie, Is Quite The Charmer {The Guardian]
[Barbie Orr]

[Image via Barbie Orr's Site]