All posts tagged: Cindy Crawford

Middle-Aged Dread

IN MY MOTHER’S ERA, middle-aged mothers were content to be middle-aged mothers. They wore comfortable clothing and would not have dreamed of trying to fit into their teenage daughter’s jeans or befriending her friends on Facebook. There were a couple of ‘glamour pusses’ in the small town in which I grew up – perhaps the local boutique or beauty parlour owner – but on the whole, they were all of similar elk. I don’t remember anyone being particularly reed slim unless born that way, and I don’t recall anyone power walking with weights or hiring a personal trainer to work on their ‘abs’. There were no gym junkies because there were no gyms and a weekly game of tennis was the sociable ‘exercise’ of choice. The more adventurous souls took up yoga when the fad hit town and I recall my nicely rounded mum proudly showing us how she could stand on her head. They settled into middle age with an accepting sigh and laughed off a couple of gained kilos or a midriff that …

Let us grow old without the guilt

IN MY MOTHER’S ERA, middle-aged women were content to be middle-aged women. They wouldn’t dream of trying to fit into their teenaged daughter’s jeans or befriending her friends on Facebook, if there was such a thing back then. I remember whispered concern about a particular woman who would walk miles to maintain a stick like figure, but mostly, women had a healthy approach to life. Manic walker aside, I don’t remember anyone looking like a whippet unless born that way, and there was no power walking with weights or hiring a personal trainer to work on ‘abs’. Cross-fit? That would be exercising with a bad attitude. There were no gym junkies because there were no gyms and a weekly game of tennis was the sociable ‘exercise’ of choice. My mother had a friend called Lorna but she wasn’t a gym clothing icon, her surname was Smith, not Jane, and she made stuffed toys for the family’s farm stall instead of stylish sportswear for lithe bodies. The more adventurous souls took up yoga when the fad …