Feeling old is just in the mind, they say. It’s only a number, they say. Hormones, who needs ‘em? But. There’s always a but. You wouldn’t want to leap in unselfconsciously with your loose flapping skin and grey hair flying, would you? That would look ridiculous. Shameful. They don’t want wizening women sticking their beaky noses and pointy elbows in when there’s space for the young and juicy. Do they? Probably not. But they also don’t want us dismantling the defences they built out of unrealistic expectation and other shameful bits of patriarchal bullshit, do they?
