I’ve developed a chronic case of clothes-trophobia; at 67, I thought I’d surrender to elasticated waistbands, flat orthopaedic footwear and cosy thermal underwear.
But no. Thanks to all those celebrities who insist on defying their age, I’d be accused of ‘letting myself go’. I should be Instagramming nude photos of myself like 56-year-old Catherine Zeta Jones, a gift she gave hubby Michael Douglas for his 80th birthday.
Picture Amanda Holden’s pert posterior, Michelle Obama’s chiselled biceps, Liz Hurley’s buoyant boobs, Nicole Kidman’s serious pecs appeal – never has there been greater pressure on older women to keep looking ‘hot’.
The only reason I’m feeling ‘hot’ is because pulling on my torturously tight body-con dress proved so strenuous, I overstrained my groin and tore a calf muscle. Once I’d regained circulation in my lower limbs, I added a feather boa and vertiginous stilettos.
It was a look that didn’t quite come off… but definitely gave the impression that it would later, for the clientele of a lap dancing club.
The Revenge Club by Kathy Lette
Kathy’s wickedly witty new novel is out now: Matilda, Jo, Penny and Cressy are all women at the top of their game; so imagine their surprise when they start to be personally overlooked and professionally pushed aside by less-qualified men. Only they’re not going down without a fight. Society might think the women have passed their amuse-by dates but the Revenge Club have other plans.
On the topic of sex, my best bedroom fantasy wear? A flannelette nightie.
But no. I’m also compelled to keep it ‘hot in the bedroom’. Well, I definitely worked up a sweat last night – only because contorting myself into a lacy black basque proved more complicated than advanced algebra.
It turned out to be even more challenging for my lover, later. It had so many flaps, loops, clips and elasticated panels, he needed an engineering degree to operate it. By the time he got the damn thing off, it was morning.
And with adverts for summer holidays everywhere already, I’m also even feeling anxious about being ‘beach-body ready’.
If Helen Mirren dared to bare in a bikini aged 63, then I can’t possibly sport a sturdy one-piece… Although without the aid of personal trainers, vegan chefs and weight-loss jabs, donning Liz Hurley’s gold bikini bottoms will surely just make me the butt of a joke?
Celebrity female perfection is so demoralising.
Will I still be Brazilian waxing and lifting dumbbells in the retirement home?
At what age can we reject the ‘Survival of the Sexiest’ mantra? Surely, the only requirement you should make of your attire is that it’s comfy and flame-retardant? Stand too close to a flame and my fluffy diaphanous teddy will give a very literal meaning to a ‘hot’ outfit.
Well, enough already! From now on, it’s the best slippers, trackies and kaftan-type tent dresses baggy enough to slip over a small island.
Oh no! I hear you say. What a turn-off! Yes, it’s true women often dress to attract a mate. But to be noticed by the male of the species, I’m sure a gal need only wear two things – her heart on her sleeve and beer-flavoured lip gloss.
Kathy Lette writes her amusing columns on all sorts of topics, from faking orgasms to camaraderie at divorce parties to going makeup-free and why it’s easier to be a man. A new column is published in woman&home magazine every month.
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