Tuesday 9 April 2013

Let Them Eat Cake!



I’ve been to a few parties lately, I’m delighted to say. There was my friend’s 50th where I came away feeling relieved that actually, even at around half a century, we danced for hours and looked more young than old - only to be flattened by my children who’d been waitressing there, had ample chance to view all invited guests and felt compelled to comment on just how ancient we all were.

I also went to a friend’s 30th a few months ago, although to be honest, I can’t claim to be invited to too many of those these days. But, despite wearing a bag over my head and the highest heels to mask the frumpy inadequacy of having fourteen more years to my tally than most of the invitees, I had a fantastic time with the wonderful guests and came away thinking they were no different to me. Thankfully, my daughters were not in the vicinity to pass comment.

I’m going to a 21st this week - anybody know where I can find a pair of 24 inch heels? – and this got me thinking about a post I wrote a couple of years ago when my blog was quite new. A whopping eight people read it. (Any new bloggers out there? Stick with it, it does get better!) So I figured I could get away with re-posting it. Mum? I’m sorry, you’ve read this before...


I don’t know why people get upset about being 40. There’s a whole industry devoted to telling us we should, but I say, it's time to have your cake and eat plenty of it.

Hear me out on this.

My teenage memory of my father’s 40th was that he spent the entire previous year moaning about it which really rather overshadowed the whole event. I thought it was a bit of a shame, not to mention slightly tedious to live with, after all, he didn’t seem any different to me when the calendar flicked to July 4th of THAT year.




About three years ago I started celebrating 40th birthdays with a vengeance. It started with my older sister’s where we got to dance with Kevin Adams – swoon - the choreographer from Fame Academy during a pamper weekend with our other sisters. I left the three day weekend topped up with love and joie de vivre. Every few months thereafter another party popped up. Champagne flowed and friends buzzed with the excitement, and the planning, of the special day – a lot like a wedding really – a whole group of people keen to party with you because they like you.

I don’t think it gets much better than that.

And then came mine. It was a surprise, not the birthday you understand, but the party really was. I know, it was ridiculously naive not to suspect. Everybody knows I love a surprise – and magic - and that’s what I got. I will remember that party for ever. My 40th year was a bumper year of celebrations. Three fortieths in one week was the record, like Four Weddings and a Funeral all over again.

And there’s the rub.

I’m sad to say that I have been to funerals too, three for people who didn’t make it to 45. I think the least I can do is be grateful for being one of those fortunate enough to reach another milestone.

And nobody could claim they didn’t know. There’s no cackling imp on your shoulder one morning, hissing the words to Happy Birthday before announcing that, although you thought you were 20 with no dependents, no money and no cares, the harsh reality is that you’re double that. 

I didn’t feel any different when I tipped over into the forties, save for feeling a little more special for a few days because all my lovely friends and family had made such a special effort for me, but my hair didn’t suddenly sport a grey hue (well and truly sprouting now though, isn’t it? – Ed), nor did, alas, my spots disappear back to my teenager years where they really should have stayed in the first place. My dodgy hip didn’t sort itself out as a good will gesture but nor did it get worse overnight. The things I ‘hadn’t done’ at 40 I also hadn’t done at 39 and the things I have on my to-do list – getting Glass Houses published, please - well I’m a whole lot closer to them happening in my forties than I was two years ago.

So you see, I think it’s all a big con, an inspired ploy by the greeting cards industry. And I propose a counter move. I shall set up my own niche market: the Formidable Forty-Ones because surely 41 has the potential to be much more depressing? When do you ever hear anybody ask more than a day in advance, ‘What are you doing for your 41st?’ or, ‘Are you planning a surprise party for [insert beloved’s name]’s 41st? Let me know if there’s anything I can do.’ Do you ever see anybody collecting photos in a clandestine manner for an embarrassing 41st slide show? Or having them enlarged to A2 and giggling with excitement at the result with the bemused printer? 

No. And this needs to be rectified. My best selling card will be, ‘No surprises, no big presents, no bubbly...’ and as the chintzy music plays on opening, the words, ‘but we still love you all the same,’ will spring out. Corny? Oh yes. But if you can’t be slushy on your friend’s 41st, when can you be?

Happy Day to all of you! And may you always feel younger than you are. (Unless you’re eight
, of course, and then it’s the other way around – Ed.)


20 comments:

  1. Lovely, Jackie.

    I missed this first time round.

    I quite agree - it's only a number. My darling daughter has given up on telling me how old I am, so they do grow out of it. Not that standing next to her does me any favours. Oh to be 23 again!!

    Mind you, last week she wanted to know how we felt about growing older - was it depressing? So maybe she hasn't grown out of it after all.

    If it's any comfort, being able to party when the children are not watching lasts a good deal longer than into your 40's. But maybe not so long after midnight any more.

    Enjoy the 21st.
    But don't wear 24 inch heels. Imagine what would happen if you fell off those. :)

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  2. Ha ha! And you can imagine Pauline, if anyone could fall of 24 inch heels in a *spectacular* fashion, then I could...!

    Thanks for reading and your lovely comment. 23, you say? Sigh...

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  3. It's about living, not aging...most of us have to do a little of both...

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    1. Yep, I like that, living not aging (I always want to put an 'e' in that, I felt compelled to check and you can do both - just thought I'd share that!) Thanks for popping in MJ :)

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  4. Great blog. as always. As your blogs always do it set me off thinking about not only what you have written, but also the theme behind it and of course it is all about making those you care for feel loved and cherished whatever day or date it is and we can do that however ancient we are I hope. Keep up the good work!

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  5. Perfect timing on this post - I'm turning 39 in a few days time, and my sis-in-law is already talking about my 40th party. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about being 40, but it probably won't be as bad as the build-up!

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    1. 39? So young! The forties are fab, nothing to fear, promise :)

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  6. I don't care about how young or old someone looks or the number they are turning, if there is cake that's all I'm paying attention to lol

    Great post, I say be corny with those 24 inch heels and have a blast. Also, stuff your daughters mouth with cake before they say anything :D

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    1. :D Every piece of the above is good advice indeed!! Thanks for popping in SK.

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  7. Lovely post, Jackie. I turned 40 in September last year and had a fab time. My husband is next in May and we are going camping at a folk festival - same thing as we were doing in our 20s!

    BTW - I have nominated your blog for an award today over on mine, to go with all the ones you already have :)

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    1. That's the spirit Amanda! I shall have to put you in my diary for a Happy 41st Birthday Card by the sounds of it... by the way, September is a great month to have a birthday.

      And thank you! I'm ridiculously chuffed that you thought of me for the award. I really like the questions asked, too. Thanks Amanda, that's made my day. I shall post soon.

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  8. My children think your old once your over 90 as they are lucky to have a great grandma as a bench mark! Having recently turned 40 I am relieved to have another 50 years of youth to enjoy. I think 40 is quiet liberating and intend to make the most of the decade!

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    1. Excellent, Clarkey, not even half way :) The women live a long time in my family (touching lots of wood). My gran was playing golf when she was 82, three days before her stroke which unfortunately made her much older over night.

      Enjoy your forties, I'm sure you will!

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  9. I shall be 50 in October. I am not so disingenuous as to refuse to acknowledge that I once thought 50 to be almost dead. However, I hated turning 30 (felt middle aged when I didn't feel middle aged with none of the release of 40+). Loved being 40 and had a huge ceilidh. Am really looking forward to fifty but am having dinner for 20 rather than party for 150. I feel more comfortable in my skin than I ever have before. I can't wear the little flirty skirts I love and plaits just look weird. But I can be who I feel I am without fear of what other people think. That is a precious gift.

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    1. You know what, I'm honoured to have that comment on my site. I couldn't agree more. Even the 50 being almost dead bit (!) but then I think we thought 30 was ancient when we were ten. I have a theory that 'old' is always twenty years older than you currently are which, if my theory holds up, will make me forever 'the new middle-aged'. Excellent ;)
      Thanks for popping in! I hope you've posted lately? I shall go and have a look.

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  10. I just realized I haven't heard from you in a while. I hope everything's okay. Milestones are okay, but I was happy to pass my fortieth because they don't matter so much after that. It's not how old you are, it's what you do with it! :-)

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    1. Hi Lexa, thanks for your concern! I'm just coming to the end of the most wonderful on-line self-editing course which has been fantastically useful but also all-encompassing. Blogging has taken the hit, I'm afraid. But I will be back and at 'em later this week. Thanks for popping by and yes, you're right, it's what you do with it that counts ;)

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  11. Funny you should mention 41, as when I reached that age I started to receive a different sort of junk mail - specialist car insurance for more mature drivers being one of them. I think these advertising types band people 31-40, 41-50 etc so in some ways 41 is the new 40.

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  12. Thanks Charlie, I always notice when I go up a band, or shall we say, down a group when we're scrolling to find our age range. 41 is the new 40, it's official, or perhaps 44. When I get to 50, I might up that a bit...

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