Aging on My Mind

A Dubious Pleasure

Do I write about old age because I think about it so much or do I think about it so much because it’s my current subject, my self-appointed territory, my new terrain?* Sometimes an hour does not go by without my thinking about old age, mine in particular.

This is especially true when I’m out and about. I often estimate the age of passersby and wonder if they are doing the same with me, or if, in fact, I’ve become invisible. At my husband’s request, I haven’t let my hair grow white, so I probably look like a very haggard middle-aged woman, rather than the striking old lady I’d rather be! This shows I’d rather be attractive than younger-looking, although at this point, to most of my contemporaries, the two are probably synonymous.

Of course, with white hair I might just look old and haggard, and not like that silver-haired beauty at the cafe table near mine here in Paris, wearing an elegant jacket and the obligatory silk scarf.

I wish I didn’t compare myself to others so often! After all, as Teddy Roosevelt said, “comparison is the thief of joy.” This I believe, but I can’t help comparing myself to other people, especially people my age who are opsicocious: that is, the opposite of precocious--bold in old age, such as the rockers in their seventies who perform to sell-out stadiums.

In my twenties, I hoped that a more modest fame might help cushion my old age. I would be asked to contribute articles to distinguished magazines. I would be on committees to confer prizes. An adoring young person would help organize my papers and respond to the many dinner party invitations I’d receive.

Instead, here I am, almost eighty years old, still thrilled when a piece is accepted by an online publication, still mysteriously excluded from the literary elite and their perhaps mythical dinner parties!

In my youth, I could not have foretold the satisfactions of this particular old age I am living (health, love, security, purpose), but I would have been dismayed to know that I’d never sell a short story for as much money as I received in my twenties, nor a novel for as much as I got in my thirties.

I look at photographs of successful contemporary women authors, most of whom look very young, almost all showing bare arms and shoulders. Why do they do that? Then I recall that my last author photo, above, taken in a studio, showed me glowing (and photoshopped) in a sleeveless white dress. At the age of sixty, I was still showing skin!

Last year, I got a new author photo so that people might recognize me from it. At the photographer’s suggestion, I wore a turtleneck.

A style choice in one’s teens and twenties is to bare the body. Flaunt that torso with a crop top that shows off your taut midriff! Call further attention to it by piercing your belly button! How about a tattoo just above your firm, sassy buttocks? Perfect with those low-slung jeans.

At my stage in life, however, concealment is the favored mode. Bring on the turtlenecks, the scarves. Some women wear long sleeves in summer because their upper arms jiggle. Others (Anna Wintour) hide their crinkly eyes behind huge sunglasses. And, sadly, some women buy bathing suits with little skirts, or even sleeves. When I swim, I love to feel the water on my skin, so I still wear a two-piece--but when I emerge from the sea, I hasten to get into a towel before putting on a cover up.

Legs last the longest, so skirts are still a good look for many. Nonetheless, I don’t think miniskirts on seventy-year-olds are going to inspire GILF thoughts.

I had decades of enjoying the male gaze (many women hated it, but not I), so I don’t mind that I scarcely get it these days. Now what I hope for is the female gaze, that lingering look as she assesses my clothing choices, my accessories and makeup before walking by. After all, these are things I have chosen, rather than features I was born with, and in a way, being admired for one’s style is a greater compliment than being lauded for one’s beauty.

Yeah, sure.

From morning till night, I’m reminded of my age. I start my day with a run, and invariably I am lapped by much younger women. I end my day by turning off the light early, at maybe ten-thirty—and when did I start doing that? In between there are moments of forgetfulness, breathlessness climbing stairs, and mirrors to avoid.

Sometimes I wish I could have just a few hours without thinking about how old I am!

To see how often thoughts of aging come to mind unbidden, I got one of those small clickers that trainers use to count their clients’ reps. Then I thought of that old measurement problem, that by measuring something you sometimes alter the reality. It would exemplify the Hawthorne effect, or the observer principle, where people change behavior when being watched. (In this case, I’d be watching myself).

Having that small device in my pocket would remind me that I am measuring how often I thinking about age, and so I’d be thinking about age.

Is it dozens or, God forbid, hundreds of times a day that I think about my age? I seem to have misplaced the clicker that might tell me.

That’s probably a good thing

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*Recent pieces about old age:

How to Be Old: A Guide http://bit.ly/3YYv9b6

Being Opsicocious https://www.huffpost.com/entry/age-gen-x-baby-boomer-unexpected-behavior_n_69879453e4b04dcdbed5c1e7

Getting Old with Theo, My Dog: https://catherinehiller.substack.com/p/getting-old-with-theo?utm_source=publication-search

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You may be wondering what this piece has to do with “the pleasure principle.” Admittedly, the connection’s indirect. I get a strange satisfaction from exploring things that are taboo. For many years, these are the only things I’ve written about. Just Say Yes: A Marijuana Memoir (2015 and 2025) examines my life as a longtime cannabis user. Cybill Unbound (2023) is a novel about an older woman’s (gasp!) sexual adventures. Now I am writing candidly about old age, emphasizing the possibilities for positive aging and assembling these pieces into a humorous book. Does unpacking a taboo give me pleasure? Yes, actually!

What are some other taboo subjects people should examine?