In 2007, aged 81, a grey-haired, buttoned-up Queen Elizabeth featured alongside supermodels Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell in Vogue’s glamour list. The fashion magazine praised her for being “as glamorous in her brogues and headscarf . . . as she is wearing the crown jewels”. This week, another 81-year-old featured in a glossy magazine when Martha Stewart, the domestic influencer, became the oldest star to feature on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. Buttercup highlights frame a youthful face, with a hint of cleavage and leg beneath a frothy orange drape.
It took some preparation. “I didn’t starve myself,” she said. “But I didn’t eat any bread or pasta for a couple [of] months.’ While she maintains she hasn’t been under the knife, she has admitted to treatment by two dermatologists and the odd prickle of filler here and there.
When I read this, my own face drooped with fatigue. Women used to be able to give in to middle life, but now high beauty standards stalk the ageing process. Must I reach for the mascara on my deathbed to draw attention away from my rheumy eyes?
The difficulties of female ageing have been publicised in the past few years by celebrity menopause cheerleaders, notably Davina McCall, who this week won book of the year at the British Book Awards for Menopausing. Celebrity accounts of menopausal experiences, ranging from actress Naomi Watts to broadcaster Mariella Frostrup, have helped to create what Deborah Jermyn, reader in film studies at the University of Roehampton, has called a “menopausal turn” forging an “unprecedented period of pronounced public cultural conversation and promotion”.
Middle-aged women are everywhere nowadays, and demanding attention. In 2016, the disparity in how men’s and women’s ageing is viewed was the subject of the sketch in which comedians Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Tina Fey, Patricia Arquette and Amy Schumer celebrate Louis-Dreyfus’s “last fuckable day” aged just 45.
Seven years later, there are signs of a shift. In the Kenneth Branagh film, Belfast, Judi Dench was paired with Ciarán Hinds, her junior by more than 15 years and in The Eyes of Tammy Faye, Jessica Chastain (46) was married to Andrew Garfield (39). At the start of the year, British viewers were gripped by Sarah Lancashire (now 58) playing Catherine Cawood in Happy Valley.
We’ve come a long way baby. In the 1967 film, The Graduate, Anne Bancroft played Mrs Robinson, the older married woman having an affair with 21-year-old Benjamin, portrayed by Dustin Hoffman. Bancroft was just 35, Hoffman, 29.
Menopausal cheerleaders have helped to break such taboos. So much so that my inbox now bulges with employers keen to highlight the assistance they provide women at work. Do I want to discuss it? Nah, I’m good, thanks. I’m up to my eyeballs in it.
If this sounds unduly harsh — I applaud the fact that women no longer suffer in silence. The conversation has helped women understand the impact of dwindling hormones on their bodies and mood and encouraged them to seek help. It has forced governments, doctors and researchers to address the gap on provision.
However, an unfortunate byproduct of all this has been a booming meno-industry for everything from meno-moisturisers to pricey wellness retreats. One hotel offers a six-day retreat to “feel happier about yourself”. Yours for £3,300. Because women must never give up working on themselves, it seems.
This is why seeing Martha Stewart’s immaculate front cover made my heart and jowls sag. But then I thought about the fun she seemed to be having. She said of the shoot, “My motto has always been: ‘when you’re through changing, you’re through’.” What could be a clearer sign of transformation than for a white-collar criminal to become a cover star?
emma.jacobs@ft.com
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