‘THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH I CAN DO TO HOLD BACK TIME’
Tess Stimson, 52, is a writer and journalist
Last week, I went out for dinner with a group of 50-something friends. As the waiter handed out the menus, everyone simultaneously reached into their handbags for a pair of reading glasses. Except me. Not because I have perfect vision — ever since I turned 40, the instructions on a bottle of aspirin have been a blur. But, now 52, I still refuse to get a pair of spectacles. There’s a reason your eyesight deteriorates as you get older — it’s so you can’t see your wrinkles.
When I heard former supermodel Elle ‘the body’ Macpherson declaring the secret to her apparent agelessness as she approaches her 60th birthday is ‘love, laughter, water and sunshine’ I almost snorted out my morning coffee. Well, I’d like to add ‘denial’ to her oh-so-plausible recipe for youth. Perhaps Elle’s eternal beauty really is down to joyous frolics on the beach — if I’d been blessed with the kind of genes that’d earned me millions, I might feel as merry as she does. But for the rest of us mere mortals whose tap water does not spring from the magic Fountain of Youth, it takes a bit more than a giggle with the hubby on a Saturday night to roll back the years. I’ve never gone under the knife, mainly because I’m scared it might be like redecorating: spruce up your kitchen and the rest of the house looks shabby. But I started using preventative HRT gel at 43 and have so far swerved the menopause, with all its miserable, ageing symptoms — weight gain, hot flushes, thinning hair. I plan to slide into the grave on a tide of the stuff if it stops me from drying out like an old prune. I have highlights every six weeks and spend a considerable amount of money on good tailoring and clever bras. I also lift really heavy weights at the gym twice a week
— I regularly bench close to my own body weight. I hike every weekend and do reformer pilates four times a week.
If it sounds like a lot of work, that’s because it is. It’s expensive and time-consuming.
But sure, let’s say I’ve kept the weight off with ‘love and laughter’ rather than sweat and tears. It sounds so much more inspirational. Clearly sunshine affects the youthful Elle differently, but like most women my age who oiled up with tanning lotion as a teen, my crêpey décolletage is paying the price.
But I’m with her on one thing: a nice tan always makes you feel young and sexy.
‘If it sounds like a lot of work, that’s because it is’
These days, I use factor 50 and have a dermatologist on speed dial, but I hit the beach as often as I can. Not in a sensible, dreary swimsuit either — I don’t believe in dressing my age. Where’s the fun in that? I recently rocked up to girls’ night out in a red leather miniskirt I’ve had for 20 years. It still fits, and I’m firmly of the belief cellulite is an attitude of mind, especially if you don’t look in the mirror too closely.
Most of us don’t have oodles of cash sloshing around to spend on transfusions with the blood of virgins, or whatever the latest beauty craze is. But nor are we subject to the incredible pressure to look young that comes with being a woman in the public eye. I’ll keep shoring up what God gave me with hard work and clever tailoring, but there’s only so much I can do to hold back time. And in the meantime,
I’ll console myself with the thought that in 10 years, I’ll wish I looked like I do now.
✱ The New House by Tess Stimson (£9.99, Avon Harpercollins)