Cat and Nat look at the new rules for ageing gracefully

Cat says

A re you age-appropriate? I suppose it's getting increasingly difficult to define "age-appropriate" in this day and age since our generation is feeling and behaving younger than our parents and our grandparents did at our time in life.It's even been said that 50 is the new 30.

To be honest I don't feel a day older than when I was 25. Turning 25 was more dramatic for me than turning 30, or even 40 - it's a well-known fact that  after 25, biologically and physically, a woman is on a steady downhill slope!

Sadly, it's true. I don't feel as energetic these days nor do I look 25, but I certainly feel young mentally, and I always try my best to look and dress as young as possible - looking appropriate at all times, of course.

However I don't want to think too much about the phrase "age-appropriate". One is as age-appropriate as one wants to be - and can get away with, for that matter.

When my mother was my age, she stopped wearing bright colours or trying to look her best even though physically she was much younger than her age. She considered herself middle-aged and thought it was inappropriate to dress up like a young woman. Well, times are different now - as I keep telling her, "50 is the new 30!"

This is usually in response to her jibes about my own "age-appropriate" behaviour - or lack of it. For instance, she doesn't think at my age I should be meeting friends for a drink at a bar, nor should I be seen out after midnight. She also thinks I am far too old to follow the latest fashion trends.

Ideally she would like to see me in a classic Armani trouser suit and a pair of flat pumps from Ferragamo. But sorry mum, much as I like the classic look, I'm afraid it isn't for me.

I follow fashion quite religiously, but at the same time I won't step out in anything that doesn't suit me. I don't embarrass my husband and my children by wearing super-miniskirts, hot-pants, tops that expose my navel, or other articles of clothing that will elicit raised eyebrows. The long and short of it is that I don't wear clothing that is conventionally considered inappropriate.

Sometimes I wonder who dictates at what age one should change one's appearance - in the past, society's demands were reinforced by one's mother and grandmother, I suppose.

But these days we're living in a superficial world in which looks before brains is the norm. There are millions of people having plastic surgery, on lifelong diets, and following every nutritional fad in order to maintain their youth.

And hey, why not! Personally, I couldn't agree more that it's important to keep on looking good, especially when one reaches a certain age. Why give up and let go?  If it means following a healthy diet and exercising regularly, I'm very happy to oblige. As far as having plastic surgery is concerned, so long as one can get a good doctor, I wouldn't mind giving plastic surgery a go when I feel I have the need. Who wouldn't want to rock like Tina Turner in a miniskirt, or look like Jaclyn Smith (one of the original Charlie's Angels). Smith has had the best plastic surgery to my mind: She looks exactly like she did 25 years ago, and above all appears age-appropriate!

Nat says

 I t was in new york city in the late '80s and the man                                                                  my friends and I had dubbed Zeus, after the father of the Greek gods, must have been in his late 40s. Okay, he was probably in his early 50s but, with good plastic surgery, we couldn't tell his precise age. He was always dressed in a pair of short, cut-off jeans and a pair of black army boots. He had the body of a Greek god. So, of course, it stands to reason that he was usually otherwise naked and dancing on top of a speaker the size of a small refrigerator.

Plastic surgery aside, however, I could tell Zeus was old. Too many days spent tanning had left his skin with a leathery texture and his crew cut was flecked with grey. Make no mistake, however, this was one amazing hunk of man.

My friends and I, however, were in our 20s - the height of our clubbing days - and we were mighty impressed. It was marvellous, we thought, that someone of Zeus' age would still have the energy to keep himself in shape and could go clubbing every weekend. It was reassuring that we wouldn't need to become old and decrepit just because time had passed.

I decided then and there that I wanted to be just like Zeus. When I got old, I too would have the body of a Greek god. I would go out every week and dance until dawn. I was going to be impressive and admired in my zest for life. I was going to be immortal.

Well, now that I'm well into my 40s, I realise Zeus was an idiot. What kind of loser has such a bad grip on life that he hangs out with 20-year-olds in a bar?

And this is not sour grapes. I'm actually proud that I've settled into middle age. I most definitely do not have the physique of a Greek god, unless there was a Greek god of men who needed to lose at least 10 kilos but could stand to gain a bit more hair.

Come on, I have a life. I have responsibilities. I have intellectual interests that have taken over from whatever impulses used to drive my friends and me to go out every weekend to dance and drink ourselves silly.

It is undignified for men my age to spend their nights dancing away in a disco. It is inappropriate, pathetic and more than a little desperate. 

But what is age-appropriate behaviour? Is there a formula for age and dignity? Are there hard and fast rules about when one stops clubbing and starts taking cholesterol medication?

I don't mean to sound like an old fuddy duddy. It's just that, from my perspective, the times when I went out all hours of the night, abused alcohol and let my morals loose are days best left dead and buried.

Of course I remember how much fun I had when I'd stay out all night, come home, get dressed and go straight to work without a second thought. My recollections are especially wistful because, nowadays, it takes me about three days to recover if I stay up past midnight.

But I also remember the parts that weren't fun about my 20s. I remember the loneliness of being single and the uncertainty of just starting a new career. I remember not having enough money to visit my mother in America because I'd spent it all drinking.

Zeus now strikes me as a man who never grew up and was looking for answers in all the wrong discos.

Want an opinion on something? Cat and Nat can be contacted at

NnaSWild@aol.com.