This Just In...

Magazine Scientists have just discovered new, cutting edge technology that allows editors to transplant the body of a 26 model onto the face of a 48 year old actress. Imagine the possibilities. And the eating disorders. And the self loathing. And so on... And so on...

Why Aging Doesn't Suck Reason #29 - Helen Mirren

This one requires no words. Except to say she's 65.

Literary Musings

Intellectually, we understand aging. So why does the first wrinkle or gray hair send us into an emotional tailspin? As smart women who were raised to believe that success and happiness are based on intelligence and accomplishments, many of us never expected to feel this deeply about a seemingly superficial issue. But let’s face it, we do!

While individually we were taught that beauty is only skin deep, our youth-obsessed culture reinforces the myth that beauty is our currency, our power, and what makes us female. These conflicting messages leave many women feeling trapped in a web of confusion. Do we grow old naturally, since our looks don’t define us, or do we fight the signs of aging, since beauty and youth are prized so dearly? Whether we focused on our looks or barely noticed them, our changing appearances strike at the core of who we are. FACE IT is a psychological guide that provides a path out of this surprisingly difficult predicament. It helps us strike a healthy balance between letting our looks matter and accepting that they change—between holding on and moving on.

As models turned psychotherapists, Vivian Diller, Ph.D., and Jill Muir-Sukenick, Ph.D., have had the opportunity to examine the world of beauty from two very different vantage points—one where looks are all-important and the other where they are often viewed as irrelevant. This unique perspective helped them develop a six-step program that starts with recognizing “uh-oh” moments, examines the emotional impact of aging on self-image, and ends by suggesting innovative ways to approach beauty throughout life, so you can enjoy your appearance—at any age!

Late Bloomers

"There is no use trying," said Alice. "One can't believe impossible things." The Queen replied, " I dare say you haven't had much practice. When I was your age, I always did if for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." - Lewis Carroll

A psychic in my early twenties told me I'd be a late bloomer in both love and career. This made no sense to me at the time; I had always been the youngest person in the room (neophyte journalist at the magazine, the Doogie Howser of my professional improv troupe, etc.), no matter what I was doing. At the time of the reading, I was on my second serious, long term relationship, convinced he was THE ONE. So the idea that I would find the two most important things known to man kind late in life, seemed unfathomable. However, time progressed and I soon found myself the same age as everyone else in the room. Now I'm almost always the oldest. Damn - when did I become the elder statesmen? I liked being the prodigy so much better. Or at least my ego did.

Eventually I discovered my true path - producing/writing/directing tv and movies - in my 30's though I had circled the entertainment field in various forms since I was a kid. OK so late bloomer in career - check. And here I am at 40, very much single, dating and wondering when the hell I get to take myself off the market. Late bloomer in love - check. I need to find this woman and ask her what stocks I should invest in.

So she was right - I'm a late bloomer! SO WHAT? I'm a late bloomer because I've been busy my entire life trying things on for size, experimenting with curiosities that piqued my interest, and playing outside the lines. I never followed the beaten path. Ever. I played hockey at a time when girls didn't do such things - so much so the local newspaper printed a full page spread on my ice-bound adventures. I quit school at 16, went to London on my own for the summer, loved it, went back permanently and lived there for years, again, on my own. I fronted an indie rock band, modeled, acted, wrote for noted music magazines all over the world and essentially walked through any interesting door that opened, never questioning where it might take me. Logic would dictate I had no business pursuing any of these things for I did not have experience, education or even rudimentary knowledge of the very things I was embarking on. Not many people would start a band only knowing three chords on the guitar. Well, I did and ended up being pretty successful I might add. And I'd do it again now if a similar urge struck me.

Looking back, it's easy to say I took those kinds of chances because I was young. It's not nearly as difficult to do when there's not much at stake. "You can always come home," Mum said, if it didn't work out. The thing is, I never did come home. Well once, briefly when I finally got tired of the dreary, limitations of the UK not to mention all that bloody rain - and had to press reset on my life for a minute. But I was soon out the door again and off on the next adventure. Of course that safety net lessens as the years progress, (parents get older, you have a family of your own who depend on you, and of course the humiliation of having to ask for help over the age of 30) making it even harder to entertain the notion of moderate change, or heaven forbid, a self-imposed exile from your life. However, it doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.

Indeed that sense of adventure gets knocked out of us when we turn a certain age. What that looks like is different for everybody but seems to land somewhere in the region of 35. You know the drill - "Reality sets in." Or, "I just had to finally grow up." These are the biggest lies you will ever tell yourself. Believe me when I say, they will kill your insides and rip out your soul. I'm 40 and I still take chances. ALL THE TIME. I believe in trying new things. I believe in taking risks on a regular basis. It's good for the brain, the soul, and the holy ghost. Initiate a sense of adventure into life's often dull and dreary proceedings, take your daily routine by the gonads and pinch them hard, until it brings tears to the eyes. I'm not suggesting giving up all sense of responsibility, a steady pay check or leaving the life you've painstakingly worked to build. It doesn't have to be "Eat, Pray, Love" for God sakes. But what about injecting one new thing into your weekly grind?

Learn Spanish, mentor an at-risk teenager, take apart a car engine and put it back together, I don't care. Just don't buy into the notion that as we get older, it gets harder to learn. I started playing tennis less than a year ago, and it's changed my life. As a former athlete who accomplished many, many accolades in pretty much every sport I tried, it was not easy to put my ego aside, and stand beside 8 year olds who hit the ball better than I did. But I was curious, and interested and tired of the sports I had been playing all my life. So I started training with a coach, a couple of times a week. When I wasn't dreaming about hitting the perfect kick serve, I would watch endless hours of my favorite players on TV, even attending tournaments all over the world just to get my fix. Hour after hour, week after week I slowly started becoming a better player.

My brain engaged, my body lithe, the ego firmly in check, I am fast progressing into a real tennis player. What's almost as rewarding as now being able to beat folks who have been active in the sport 10 times longer than I have, is that I had the courage to look stupid for a while. I hate being a novice in anything, but had I listened to that 40 year old logic whispering in my ear, "Oh you really have to start when you're young. It's just too hard to build muscle memory at your age," I would have missed out on what I can genuinely say is the love of my life. It seems like I am in good company. 47 year-old, actress Elisabeth Shue has forgone her illustrious movie career to pursue her goal of being the only women over 40 to receive entry into a professional womens tennis tournament. It looks like she's going to do it, too.

My "reality check" still hasn't kicked in because I won't let it. Better yet, I've managed to find an incredibly rewarding career along the way, one that all these adventures has prepared me for, maybe even more so than the folks who followed the tried and tested path. As far as love goes, all those fumbled dalliances, failures, lessons, therapy and moments of pure bliss have brought me to the point where I actually feel like I have something real to offer. I recently asked a girlfriend whose marriage is struggling, "If you were to meet your husband now, would you still marry him?" She didn't even stop to pause, "Absolutely not." I think, at 40, it's less likely I will mutter those words to her on my 10th year anniversary.

There are no rules, kids. Just ask Julia Child, Agatha Christie, Madelaine Albright, Hilary Clinton, Amelia Earhart, and Helen Mirren - just a small sampling of fabulous women who found their calling later in life. If you're still not convinced, pick up NY Times best-selling author Amy Cohen's book "The Late Bloomers Revolution".

So how about starting your own, personal revolution?

"Elizabeth Hurley, Aging" - The Daily Beast

Wrinkles are now officially headline news. Here's hoping tomorrow's front pages read, "Research now shows that after the age of 40, penises shrink an inch in size every decade."

Quote of the Day - Emma Thompson

“Blokes can have various false starts and start over again.” She describes a male friend who at 52 is about to have his first child. “That is open to them and that makes a difference in your mental state. In you’re 30s [as a woman] you’re thinking, whatever relationship you get into, is that going to be the one, or what’s the point in having it? Men have much longer,” she says. “Women have to make these decisions earlier on.”

Dressing Your Age

The fashion media are designed (no pun intended) to tell us what to wear, how to wear it, and where to go once we're in the perfect outfit. Fine. That kind of harmless and fluffy advice I'll happily sign up for. But when they take the position of knowing better than I do, what I should and should not wear depending on my age... well, I draw the line there.

The worst offender is Harpers Bazaar who run a regular feature called "Fabulous At Every Age". It details how to wear current trends, broken down by each decade - from the 20's to the 70's. Ladies of every age are represented, as the editors and stylists feverishly wade through the latest and greatest fashion has to offer, spelling out what is age appropriate and by omission, what isn't. As expected, 20 and 30-something girls are permitted to sport short hems, frilly carefree frocks, and given free reign to be as wild and eccentric as they want. Meanwhile, the rest of us mere mortals stand by and watch as the clothes just get plain dowdier and dowdier as the decades increase. Sorry but the likelihood I will ever wear a Chanel brocade jacket carries the same odds as finding a fully in-tact, snow cone in hell.

The sub text is clear - it's the older ladies that need guidance for youth holds no bounds. Just for the record, not all offenders are middle-aged and older. Someone (Harpers Bazaar, perhaps?) please tell my youthful counterparts that just because they're 21, doesn't mean they look good in ANYTHING. Have some taste ladies. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

While I agree that not all women have the necessary filter to make smart fashion decisions on their own, I still resent being told I can no longer wear certain hem lines, or rock edgy wares just because I'm not fresh out of high school. Sure, if you're 50, a studded, leather jacket and thigh high boots might not be the best course of action. But heck, if you can rock it, why not? And anyway, isn't that a matter of taste and style, not age? You be the one to tell Kim Gordon to trade in her Daryl K for Ann Taylor - here's hoping you get a solid, tongue-lashing in return. I for one refuse to picture Chrissie Hynde and Debbie Harry in J Crew or Anthropologie, and I'd rather die than have Susan Sarandon tuck away those magnificent breasts of hers, just because she's past the 60 mark. Which brings me to another train of thought...

Edith Wharton wrote in The House of Mirth,"A woman is asked out as much for her clothes as for herself." I believe this to be true. However, I refuse to be taken hostage by it. I've never taken into account what a man thinks is sexy, and I'm sure as shit not going to start now. There's a difference between feeling sexy and dressing sexy. If a woman gushes pheremones because of the way a pair of torn,skinny Acne jeans and a military-inspired jacket makes her feel, well don't think for a minute her date isn't going to pick up on that too. It has nothing to do with fuck-me-pumps and a mini skirt and everything to do with authenticity. If being in your 40's means being more comfortable in your skin,shouldn't your choice in clothing be a natural extension of that too? And don't we all want a man who values that over come-hither clothing?

I attribute my methodology in large part to my fabulous mother. One of the most stylish women I know - she outdid Twiggy in the sixties, Annie Hall in the 70's, Norma Kamali in the 80's, and continues to forge her own uniqueness at 62 - she once asked me if I dress for men or women. Even at the age of 16, I understood the relevance and weight of this seemingly innocuous question. I replied without hesitation, "WOMEN!" I have never cared for men who ogle, and I certainly don't want my fashion mood for the day dictated by what they think is hot. If it's converse I want to wear, it's converse I'm gonna wear. High tops, black, full of holes and totally punk rock. They've been a wardrobe staple since I was 12 and I'm not gonna change now. No, I would much rather walk by a group of cool girls who ogle my STYLE, not my ass.

Yes, it's my fabulous mother who taught me to match my socks and shirt at the tender age of 2, and let me work my own fashion sensibilities even when it was simply the coolest running shoes, scratch and sniff t-shirts, and Vidal Sassoon jeans. Self expression was the name of the game. Always was, still is. Men, or boys were never a factor. The fact that most of them always went for the girls with long, flowing hair and pretty dresses (and for the most part continue to do so) was never a game changer for me. I'm still the same rough and tumble tomboy I was back then, only now I mix my converse with Prada and Jil Sander. I'm age appropriate because I wear what I like. And I had great training.