I like to consider myself fairly young at heart, and although I am, most certainly, the wrong side of 35 it would be fair to say I harbour slight delusions regarding my actual age. That is to say, give or take my preference of Sauvignon Blanc over Lambrusco (although I hear it’s making a come back) these days, I behave in an notably similar way to that which I did when I was in my early twenties.
I am drunk most weekend, I think nothing of ‘snogging’ inappropriate men and litter my texts and e-mails with an alarming amount of lol’s, exclamation marks and smiley faces. I still by knickers in Topshop, read Heat and Closer, don’t apply nearly enough sun factor when on holiday and stalk my ex-boyfriends on Facebook.
The only difference in my life that I can recall, off the top of my head, is that I am now owner of a small child, can no longer rely on my dad to pay my car insurance and like to keep a youthful glow about my person with a bi-annual injection of Botox into my face.
With this example of age inappropriate behaviour in mind you wont be surprised to hear that when out, I find myself behaving in a way not in line, per say, with that of a typical 36 year old.
This weekend, for example I thought nothing of drinking 3 double gin & tonics before leaving the house, mixing my alcohol, accepting cocktails off men I’d never met before and having absolutely no memory of getting home whatsoever. I am, what some like to call, a total liability when drunk and the inappropriateness of my behaviour is about important to me as the fact that Arsenal won the FA cup final, i.e. Not remotely.
On Friday night, in my drunken state, I stated chatting to a gentleman, and after about 10 minutes we started ‘snogging’. The man in question, it transpires, was 26. 26, as in a decade younger than me.
Now, to be clear, it wasn’t the age difference that bothered me, more the fact that he delighted in telling me that he though ‘older women’ were hot. And here in lies the problem. There are no sentences humanly possibly to construct containing the word older that can masquerade as a compliment to a women. I don’t care if you can only orgasm to the idea of Helen Mirren doing the knitting, fancying me because I am older will not get you sex, and I am speaking as a person who has always preferred an older man. I get the wrinkles, the wisdom, the wallet, I mean the wit but please I’m still read Heat! Dear Lord, don’t make me a cougar yet.
Make no mistake, I understand that we all have our types and that many women prefer the youth and vitality of a man half their age, but a young man wanting to bed me because I am a hot OLDER women, doesn’t make me feel sexy, it makes me feel about 20 years older than I actually am (and exactly the opposite to why I like my men old, I shit you not, if you’ve ever worried about the ageing process, weather your tits are heading south or you have a few extra grey hairs on your head, get yourself a 60 year old boyfriend. Trust me, it’ll take years off you.)
Was he a good kisser? Absolutely, did we have fun? Totally, am I ready to be ‘sexy older woman’? … Come back to me in 10 years time.