It's all relative. In Los Angeles I feel out of shape even though, frankly, I'm damn fit for my age. In New York, I feel like a slob. No matter what I wear, someone always looks like they took more time and put more care into it. In France, I feel like a prude. You get the idea.
This is why I like the premise of the upcoming new series called Hot In Cleveland, starring Wendie Malick, Valerie Bertinelli, Jane Leeves and the newly sizzling Betty White. Basically, you have a trio of mid-lifers (Betty plays their innkeeper) who have come to feel invisible in Southern California and decide to drown their sorrows on a vacation to some distant country. En route, their plane makes an unexpected stop in Cleveland and, lo and behold, they stand out! Whistles they haven't heard for years, and figured they'd never hear again, are rampant. Needless to say, they decide they have traveled far enough, thank you.
I remember an article by a Rolling Stone journalist who had traveled to Arkansas to learn more about the man who was then our president. His opening line was something like, "The first thing you realize after spending time in Arkansas is: Bill Clinton is thin." Just imagine, if Bill went back home to Hope now. Why he would be considered downright anorexic. You want to feel really fit and fancied? Get thee to the nearest Disney park. They should name a land after those of us who are not overweight.
This is not necessarily about age, by the way. My (I think adorable) 35 year old niece claims the reason she can't find a guy is because her girlfriends all happen to be gorgeous, so she is the last one noticed. I also happen to have some agelessly lovely friends. (I just bravely wrote a book with two former models!) So I try to spin the situation: doesn't it say something good about me that I attract such creatures?
The highest compliment was once to be called "cool." Now that it still fine, especially if you play music or are the kind of president who shoots hoops and goes out for burgers. But "hot" is what we aspire to, apparently. Or do we? Look where it got John Edwards when a flaky blonde approached him one fateful night to tell him, "You are so hot." Bad line, bad response.
So how do I get to be hot? Lose my good friends? Pick somewhere more strategic for my next vacation? Cleveland, after all, has a rock and roll museum and, for now anyway, LeBron James. I haven't been to Disneyland since grad night. I could go to parts of Florida where I would still be the youngest person in sight.
Or I could relax and realize there is something liberating in remaining tepid. And that if I wait another thirty years, I may be as hot as Betty White.
Michele Willens is a co-author of "FACE IT: What Women Really Feel As Their Looks Change." (Hay House)
Barbara Strauch: Aging: The Secret Life of the Middle-Aged Brain
Born in 1970, event has cause for celebration -- and a midlife crisis
Aging Gracefully -- It's a Real Workout - washingtonpost.com
Julie Hawkins,
Hot and cool in San Jose