It was my birthday on 10 December. I find it impossibly hard to type the number, so will just say that I could have officially retired 15 years ago. Every year is a portent of approaching death, which will come soon enough. And a reminder of the life force within me that beats fiercely and refuses to lie down quietly.
To put it another way, I am old. But not down and out… yet. The body has become creaky. All sorts of health problems creep up and I have had to change bad old habits. I eat fewer chocs – that’s really, really hard. I walk a whole lot more. I take tablets, have tests at the GP surgery and hospitals, all that stuff.
Then there are the endless wrestles against signs of ageing. I am often asked if I have Botox. Hand on heart, no. But here’s a confession: 25 years ago, I read an article by a Guardian journalist who had had the bags under her eyes sorted by a skilled surgeon. I went to the same chap and he sorted mine. That was then. Now I am a sucker for various face and body creams. I persuade myself that they are stopping the wrinkles. But that could be a big, fat delusion.
Nevertheless, bodily care is vital. The alternative would be to inertly accept what is happening. I do admire people who really don’t care about that. But I do. Joan Collins and Helen Mirren are ageing beautifully. I don’t have their looks or money, but one can try. Vanity in women of a certain age is a catalyst, a spark we need.
That said, it is the life of the mind that keeps women feeling and looking younger than we are. We are wholly engaged with what’s going on politically and socially. We read, we argue, we write, we blog and tweet, we do not rest easy or take up knitting to fill the time. This is not to diss those who choose to do that. I can only speak for myself and those other “pensioners” who refuse to do what their mums and grans did before them.
I keep being asked when I'll show gratitude to this country. Here's my answer
Read MoreOn my birthday, I went to a journalists’ ball at a plush hotel. I had never been before. This year, it felt like now or never. It was full of tabloid hacks, so much drink, swearing and raucous laughter. The playlist was perfect, so many of us women – old and young – danced with each other for hours. Well, why not?
The next day I had lunch with four dear girlfriends. The most glam one just turned 80, another is in her sixties and the baby, still only in her fifties. We ate, drank and laughed, and wondered if we should set up a comedic quartet called Loud Ladies.
My beloved took me to a birthday dinner and on the way home on the Tube, we were like teens discovering passion. Finding someone who can keep the fires burning takes luck and effort. Our relationship is not easy. We are very different. We argue about ideas and current affairs all the time. That’s what keeps it all fresh and adventurous. (I hope I don’t jinx the relationship by sharing too much.)
Here are some other thoughts about how to be a somebody in your later decades. Never retreat into beige and boring clothes. Wear bright clothes and lipsticks that make a statement. Lots of earrings too, and bangles and necklaces. At 62, Vanessa Feltz is a fashion queen. Her fellow presenter Gloria Hunniford, 84, always looks gorgeous, so too broadcaster Janet Street-Porter, 77. Zeinab Badawi – presenter and author – is in her sixties and surely one of the most lovely ladies in the land. And Joan Bakewell, 91, looks amazing and is still among the brightest and the best intellectuals around.
When we older women refuse the deadly expectations of society, when we claim the right to be, do and wear what we want, age loses its hold on us. Try it.
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