FROM THE ARCHIVES:The trauma of being 40 in the 1970s was described by fashion correspondent Gabrielle Williams in this article. – JOE JOYCE
FORTY IS an age of great promise. When a woman announces she is 40 – and very few do – the response is terribly unenthusiastic. Friends lift eyebrows, make wry faces, and exclaim: “My dear. No. Why not say you’re 38?”
Actually there was a time when no one seemed to reach 40. The 1960s were particularly hard on the 40s, because everyone seemed to be about 18. In fact, a lot of perfectly beautiful and sophisticated women lost all confidence in themselves because they just weren’t young enough. It was no defence saying youth was callow and no one had lived till they were 40, because all anyone was interested in at that time was mini skirts and long blonde hair.
If only there could be social indifference to a woman’s age. But to be branded as 40 takes some getting used to. Some will say: “Well these things happen, but still . . .” Others are gayer in their response. They scream: “Darling. How divine. How too marvellous.” But they probably don’t admit they are in much the same dubious position. What we need is drastic reassessment of these years, of this age group, which I, for one, find an intriguing age, full of possibilities.
Let us scrutinise the advantages. A woman will know the style of life she most enjoys, and is, therefore, most successful at. This is somewhat counteracted by a feeling of restlessness. (They say 40 is a restless age – which is promising – or dangerous, depending on ones attitude). She has, presumably, given up wild ideas about what she’ll do: realises that she isn’t cut out to be a chemist, after all, etc. She has probably even decided that a complete change of husband would not solve very much. She may not be at peace with herself, but, one presumes, she can take herself firmly in hand and say, “This will not do.” Yet, I think the 40s sound fascinating. But apart from the inner woman, there is the importance of her looks, way of dressing. All that should have been fully understood by this stage. I mean she’s worn a lot of tulle over the years. Which is one good reason for not wearing it any more.
At 40 she has gone to a lot of parties, drunk a lot of drinks, smiled at a lot of people. Now, suddenly, none of that’s important. At 40 she doesn’t care if she’s seen about or not seen. She likes to see people she likes, and she likes to be comfortable. One of the sweet and shameful confessions from a 40-year-old was that she only likes to travel First Class. So, while she may not have a tantrum if she finds she is not invited to every party in town, when she does accept an invitation, she should enjoy looking sophisticated.
However, one 40-year-old confessed, while she enjoyed being independent of other people’s opinions to a large extent, she still felt she was too young to start really relaxing and becoming eccentric, which was, she said, her natural inclination.
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