I am firmly of the opinion that women who make a lot of effort to hang onto their looks in middle age (unless they are beauties entertainers or prostitutes) are rather sad as one should surely have something more substantial to recommend one by this time such as kindness or cleverness.
When I write about a 15-year old I jump I return to the days when I was that age. It's like a time machine. I can remember everything. I can feel the wind. I can smell the air. Very actually. Very vividly.
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There are a lot of downsides to being male. We age faster and die younger. But give us this: we're lifetime baby-making machines. Women's reproductive abilities start to wane when they're as young as 35. Men? We're good to go pretty much till we're dead.
