Hey Substackies! Are you in the market for some random thoughts that have neither a point nor conclusion? Course you are. Here goes.
I had a rude awakening at the pond the other day. Some ladies of a certain age (the only certainty actually being that they were about 20 years older than me) were casually chatting in the changing room as we soaked our feet in hot water and rapidly and aggressively dried our tingling bodies. In case you’re wondering, the water is currently 2° and most of us (the communal spirit has finally taken me) are only managing a minute or two in the water. Some hardy ladies (which I, as a city-raised Jew will surely never be) swim for longer but I’ve learned that comparison is not your friend in cold water - you can only do what you can do.
Anyway, I was getting dressed post-dip, socks first, because then your knickers and trousers go on easily, and the woman next to me said “it’s quite annoying how so many young people are swimming now - I miss the quiet” to which I replied, “yeah.. er sorry?” because obviously everyone loves being an early adopter (I was furious when my dad discovered Greenday before me) but also, like, tough? Us inside gals have discovered outdoor swimming and we want to do it. It’s unbearable in the summer some days and the queues practically stretch right up to the Gail’s in Highgate Village but good things are popular because they’re good.
Just to clarify, I wasn’t being sarcastic, I did genuinely mean it must be a bit crap, when you’ve been swimming in peace for 40 years with most people thinking you’re a bit odd, and then all of a sudden everyone’s at it in their Dry Robes. But ultimately, it’s a bit bitter to say it out loud to a person you’re annoyed with when they deserve to be there as much as you. She went on, bemoaning the shrieking girls who turn up in their tiny bikinis to tick off an item on their London Fun Things to do list. And then the penny dropped. CLANG it went, metaphorically plopping into my tepid foot bath, symbolically splashing my comfortable M&S knickers.
SHE WASN’T TALKING ABOUT ME. She was talking TO me, a 36 year old woman about people half my age! Half! 18! 18 years old! Actual adults but young! Young People! Not me, old millennial cheugy no-tiktok instagramming no caffeine after 9am I remember Buffalo shoes the first time round.
Honestly, the shock stayed with me for a few days. It didn’t help when one of my besties reminded me she’d been born in the nineties (it’s fine, I immediately checked if she was gen Z and no she’s not so we’re still amigos.) (Gen Z’s are obviously allowed to be gen Z it’s just a little joke old people make.)
But I’m not old really, I know that. I’m just not a youth, which is totally fine as being a youth was exhausting. I was constantly youthing, all the time, trying to be more experienced with zero clue what I was doing. My not quite so young life now mostly involves:
• Constantly discuss Botox with your friends - will you have it, who’s had it, is it the saddest thing to happen to women or is it nicer to look “a bit fresher”
• Preparing for a night out and the inevitable three day-long hangovers by moving your diary around, panic-hydrating and ordering so much bacon in advance that you’re too tired to actually go out anymore
• Maintaining a low (sometimes high) level of incandescent rage at maternity policies, pregnancy and maternity discrimination
But also very youthfully:
• Watching criminal amounts of TV because I don’t have any dependants
• Not owning a home because I stupidly worked in charity and the arts all my professional life
• Maintaining a just-won’t-die optimism that we can change the world… dammit
By the way…
I actually wrote this piece before the whole Madonna ageism story - you know who I mean right? I ended up ditching it because I couldn’t come to a conclusion - am I old? Am I young? Is the concept pointless to discuss because a) age is relative b) millennials are weirdly ageless (the media sometimes acts like we’re 21 and eating avocado but in actuality we’re in our 30s and 40s struggling to afford life) c) it’s so gendered and racialised as a topic? But then I thought, no, remember your promise to just do this writing thing and enjoy it for what it is. So instead of a conclusion please find attached:
Three excellent pieces about ageing that I really enjoyed reading and hope you will too.
Eleanor's Letter: Ageism, Misogyny and Madonna from my pal
Madonna's Face Is Not Subversive by
Dear Dolly: 'My friends use Botox and it's making me feel old'
Thanks for reading you lot. If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to click the heart.
And if you REALLY like me, you can book me to come and speak at your company for International Women’s Day… I’ve got a couple of slots left for the beginning of March and you can enquire by replying on here or heading to my website, gabbyedlin.com (where you can also find some lovely testimonials about what a babe I am at public speaking.)
Until then here’s a picture of me when I was just a bit younger than now xxxx