Is it worth living lighter to live longer?

I read an unconvincing book called "Princessa" by Harriet Rubin. Unconvincing in the sense that I'm somewhat persuaded but not thoroughly convinced by her argument that women should not attempt to play "a man's game" because we'll inevitably lose. Instead, she advises, harness the power of our feminine strengths (and wiles) and remain steely eyed. In my view, it is nearby impossible to come up with a winning strategy in what remains a male paradigm, but any advice should help. The career advice isn't what stayed with me.

I was more gobsmacked by the comment that women live longer because they live less intensely. What a damning fate! The truth in that statement is patently unjust and irritates me like a sliver. It's no secret that up until the last 20 years women's use of the healthcare system has been more frequent and for less serious health issues than men. Men save up their usage for middle-aged whoppers like heart attack, stroke or cancer. Men continue to live shorter lives, falling fast and hard when they retire.

L'age moyen delivers a thundering crash to the physical durability men have always assumed. After 40 the aches and pains turn to chronic shoulder and knee problems. They get vicious colds or worse pneumonia. They drink cranberry juice (urinary tract problems?) and stick to one cup of coffee per day. They are gradually becoming careful, conscious of their mortality and how the stats stack up against them. We can joke that once they're over 40 we should turn them in for a younger model but we'd probably still outlive this version. Here again men have the advantage with the trophy wife scenario. Having skipped the painful rise to affluence those broads will live even longer!

With women working full on in the last 20 years, on top of maintaining most of the household management duties, there has been a corresponding rise in heart disease and other serious illnesses among women. Still, we continue to live longer and, among my mother's generation anyway, spend a good chunk of time caring for ailing husbands alone and often unsupported, mirroring their younger lives at home with children.

I had a conversation with two men, one with youngish children. They were in agreement that bike helmets negatively affected the pleasure found in cycling and so neither were in favour of this safety practice. The women, on the other hand, thought less of their own pleasure and more of the responsibility they had towards their children, ageing parents etc. Their role as caretakers superceded the pleasure principle. Is gender or personality at work here?

The question for women in l'age moyen is, should we live harder and more fully now at the risk of dying younger? In short, take off the safety equipment in all its forms. Does it speak volumes that I use the word 'risk' in this context at all?

Is it inevitable that we will book-end our lives with caretaking instead of living for ourselves?

What are we waiting for?

As I'm having coffee with a lovely friend who is not yet 40 - not l'age moyen but one looks forward to welcoming her in - we agreed that we should seize the day so to speak when it comes to wearing the fabulous things we have tucked away in the closet.

Let's face it, when one finds oneself firmly in l'age moyen, one also finds a closet full of shoes. There are also a few exquisite black coats not to mention some suits, and more than a few blouses that count as real blouses not shirts. You love them, you buy them and then, you save them for special occasions. Ridiculous. This must change.

Take shoes as one example. Yes, you ogle the gorgeous shoes and you might even think they're classic and you can wear them forever. Well, you can't. Not only does the foot change over time what with all the wear and tear, but the shoes never come back the same way. Like all fashion, reference even homage is made to the past but it is tweaked for the 'now'. The only people who can really get away with vintage are the young. On those of us in the l'age, we just look like we need a wardrobe intervention. So what's the message here, put on the stilettos and make spaghetti sauce. Don't hold back. They won't last and you'll want to be part of the next great shoe movement. You know you will.

For years I saved this beautiful green tweed suit waiting for the big shoulders and double-breasted deatils to come back in style. Never has. 20 years later and those shoulders have just never returned - not in the same way. So, the suit is gone and perhaps I'll see it on the street one day worn with chic irreverance by some trendy young woman. That would be fun.

As part of my wardrobe's new lease on life, I've been wearing a cashmere sweater for the last 2 days that I've been 'saving' for 2 years. And I'll be cooking Thanksgiving dinner in my fabulous suede shoes with my gorgeous blouse and a skirt. I'll feel so French.

And, yes, to counter the affects of extended periods of time in heels, I'll be on my head the moment the guests leave.

Proceed cautiously

A word to the debutante headstander: Proceed with caution. I was not able to achieve a comfortable headstand until I received excellent instruction from a certain yoga teacher who had a whole loft full of women of l'age moyen upside down and loving it.

It's all in the arms, folks. Who knew. Once you get the arm position down you'll be able to enjoy the thrill of gravity actually doing something good for your body.

Ken and Barbie have held onto their age moyen for decades, now it's your turn.

Are they veins or vines?

My hands cause great concern to the very young and very observant. No I'm not close to dying because you can trace the blue veins (rather vine-like I admit) through the backs of my hands, and, yes, it does come along with the age moyen territory.

There is no camouflaging the hands (although I'm sure there is some cosmetic procedure to take the fat from your butt and pump it into your hands) save for wearing gloves. You can botox your face, dye your hair and dress like a tween but you can't hide your hands. One can moisturize for a silken effect, one can choose a strong nail colour to distract the eye, or you can say, these hands have served me well and, if I keep using them everyday to dig in the ground, knead bread, braid hair and write thank you notes. I may claim them as well-deserved and well-loved.

Sadly, this is one sign of l'age moyen that cannot be recovered through a headstand. Worth a try though.