Category: Agespo

Images of agespo

The language of ageing

The language of ageing

I just watched a great session intro by Sophie Handler for the Artistic Exploration of Ageing Session 7, a series of workshops from the UK. Sophie explores how language can mediate our experience of ageing and is busy compiling a Vocabulary of Ageing with all the words we use to talk about age.

Artistic exploration of ageing – session 7 from Dave Martin on Vimeo.

I’ve often thought about how so many of the words we use around ageing are negative (‘over the hill’, ‘the elderly’, ‘old biddy’) or how often judgemental terms creep in too. I’m thinking about terms like ‘positive ageing’, ‘ageing better’, ‘successful ageing’. And of course, while I support being positive about ageing, who gets to define what is ‘better’ or ‘successful’?

Anti-ageing is another term that really gets my goat and is almost exclusively seen in the beauty industry. I’ve made a vow to not buy any ‘anti-ageing’ products or from brands that use this term in their marketing. Fortunately, many newer brands don’t seem to include ‘anti-ageing’ in their list of claims, as opposed to more established brands which still take this angle in their marketing.

I’ve also extended this approach to other consumables… I was looking for new underwear for myself as well as trying to find a front opening bra that my mum could manage (she has arthritis in her hands). I was browsing a range of online sites and noticed that some brands have started to include older models. I was surprised how much it made a differen to how I felt about the product, seeing older women represented on the sites. It made me think about the decision-making the company would have gone through to decide to use older models and that they were trying to be inclusive of a range of women.

Two images of women’s torsos in singlets and boyleg undies and one image featuring 3 older women and a black dog on
Image of younger model and older model in bra and pants on

Again, it’s a reminder of how language can impact our perspective on the world – nowhere on these sites was age mentioned in terms of the product. No nanna knickers to be seen. It felt like acknowledgement that older women can choose comfort without being seen as daggy or they can choose more sexy attire without being seen as ridiculous. More of this please!!

Embrace the silver, embrace ageing, embrace you

Embrace the silver, embrace ageing, embrace you

It’s been funny, no maybe, curious is the right word, to see how many folks are thinking about their silver roots while we’re in lockdown. It’s made me reflect on my own journey to silver which started about 6 or 7 years ago physically but probably a whole lot longer before that…

My mum has the best shade of silver white hair. She has been grey for as long as I can remember. She never dyed her hair nor was she particularly embarrassed by her grey hair either. She’d started her journey to grey from about the age of 28 (when I was born, coincidence?) and it didn’t seem to bother her too much. My father, by contrast, didn’t even begin to go grey til he was in his fifties, and even then, it was quite steely and not completely grey til much later. I always expected that I would be like my mother and go grey early. My dark brown hair was never quite dark enough for the vampy, gothic-style look I tried to achieve as a young woman and I experimented with many types of black hair dye to keep any semblance of brown far away. I started noticing regular grey hairs in my late thirties. While I was pregnant, I stopped dying my hair and saw a few greys poke through at the front. I’d have been quite happy with a Lily Munster-style white streak but what I saw didn’t quite match that and so post-baby, where the greys seemed even more prolific, it was back to dying.

On my 48th birthday, you can see the salt and pepper streaks.
When I was 20, with my mother and my grandmother. My mum would have been 48.

This became a massive chore. Not one to get my hair salon-dyed, the regularity of having to dye my roots every three to four weeks started to grate. More of an impact though was the break-up of my marriage. I was 44 years old and hadn’t dated anyone for about ten years. It felt grim. In one particularly heated argument with my ex-, he basically told me I would probably join the ranks of all the other bitter, older women who were washed up and couldn’t get a partner, because hey, who wants to be with a wrinkly old crone when you can be with a svelte young thing. I was furious but also scared. What if he was right? What if I was going to be alone for the rest of my life? How do I compete with people younger than me?

It was at that moment that I thought ‘fuck it’. What the hell am I doing? I will not try to be something I am not. I am a mid-forties woman and that’s what I will be.

Fully silver!

I didn’t let myself go (such a soap opera phrase!). Not at all. Actually since hitting my forties, I’m probably fitter than I ever was when I was in my twenties and thirties. And I didn’t throw out my skincare products, stop using makeup (though it’s mostly just lipstick now) or settle in for nights at home with the cat, ok, maybe for a while there. But it was whoosh, out with the hair dye.

I stepped into my own power and claimed it. Sounds corny but that’s what it was. I decided I would meet the world on my terms and if that was grey and wrinkled, that’s what it would be. And honestly, I haven’t really looked back. The transition has been gradual. I wasn’t as grey as I thought I was, which was a surprise. Some friends told me my hair made me look older. My own mum asked me if it was something I really wanted to do?! And I’ve had a few moments of wishing I could try other colours but stop myself when I remember how long it took to grow out the grey. And I do like using the word silver. The other bonus has been how many other women have also ditched the dye and gone silver. Everywhere I look, I am no longer alone. And I like to think I may have contributed to a few people’s decisions to go for silver too.