The Menopause and Bad Dreams

Before the menopause, I’d go to sleep at night and wake up 8 or 9 hours later feeling refreshed and ready for another day’s crap. I’ve slept through storms and earthquakes and that’s despite being over-sensitive to noise in the daytime. It was one of my better points that I could lose myself in my sleep. Nowadays, a cat farting in the next street wakes me, and that’s despite being deaf in one ear.

I’ve always had vivid dreams, but they’ve often been pleasant ones. The kind of dreams where you don’t want to wake up, like the one with Nick Cage, myself and a jacuzzi. However, once I entered into the peri-menopause, my dreams started to get weird, bordering on nightmares. So now I’m convinced that Quentin Tarantino writes my dream scripts because they are so f**ked up. Dreams of headless horses and eight-legged frogs hanging out of my bottom? And those are not the worst ones. Even Freud would shit himself. Trust me.

I naively thought my sleep would go back to how it was once I was post-meno, but that’s not how this thing works because Mother Nature is a COW. So, like any self-respecting autie, I got researching and after a few hours trawling the internet, I found out that bad dreams are a problem for many menopausal women and if I had to take a wild guess at why it happens, I’d say that it’s partly to do with the lack of oestrogen.

To explain it, we need to go back to the scurge of womanhood.

PERIODS!

Oestrogen levels plunge at week four of the monthly cycle and the lower it goes, the more you want to stab people and eat your own weight in chocolate. You get your period and you’re a grumpy bastard for a few days, (especially if you have painful periods). In that case, you live on painkillers and walk around with a hot water bottle permanently strapped to your pelvis area. Once the levels start to rise your sanity is restored and your family can breathe easy again because the beast is back in it’s cage, albeit temporarily.

So, you get the picture that oestrogen is the calming hormone, right?

Well, there is a natural decline in oestrogen during the menopause and once it’s gone, it’s gone, unless it’s replaced with HRT, and even then it’s only a temporary measure.

I remember that my dreams used to turn nasty when I was on my period, so maybe it’s not so surprising that nearly all my dreams are bad now I’m menopausal?

So, what to do about it?

I’ve been back and forth to the doctors desperately trying to find answers for my sleep problems. Gotta be honest here, they don’t have a clue and if I hear the word, ‘anxiety dear’ one more time, I will strangle the offender with their stethoscope.

HRT is no longer an option for me, and even if it was, once I stopped taking it I would go back to having shit dreams. So, I might as well get my head around the fact that bad dreams are my new ‘normal’ and work on what I expose my brain to throughout the day, because, believe me, it’s relative.

So, what can we do to improve our sleep?

Positivity

Negative thoughts find their way into our dreams, especially when ‘good cop’ oestrogen is no longer there to beat the shit out of them them with her truncheon. REM is the part of sleep where we process our emotions, so it stands to reason that negative thoughts throughout the day will manifest as nightmares, yes?

The answer is simple: Be mindful of your thoughts.

The World

The world can be a scary place. The news highlights high mega-shit humans can be and exposing ourselves to these horrors can be detrimental – as can watching disturbing movies and TV. For instance, I like my psychological thrillers, but I can guarantee a crap night’s sleep if I watch them before bed. I try to remind myself to do some light reading or watch a life-affirming movie or comedy. That said, I had the ‘frog up the arse’ dream after watching Victoria Wood – a comedian. I managed to decipher the dream (ish) and remembered her talking about some bloke in the same hospital as her who had ‘accidentally’ sat on top of his Dyson hoover attachment. As you do. So, that explains the arse bit. However, I still can’t explain the frog. Or why it had eight legs. Where is Freud when you need him, eh?

Calcium and Magnesium

Some women swear by taking calcium and magnesium supplements before bed. I’m doing this, but as I have only been taking them for a few days, there’s no improvement as yet. I would recommend taking citrate versions of these supplements as carbonate can be constipating. However, if you have diarrhea based IBS, carbonate might help to dry you up a bit AND help you to sleep. Win and win!

A Sodding Great Big Glass of Gin?

Alas, no.

Alcohol might propel you off into sleepyland quickly enough, but you will have weird dreams and wake up in the early hours with a dry mouth or needing a big wee. Sorry, but no alcohol before bed if you want to improve your dreams and sleep in general.

Eating Late

Eating big meals late at night can cause sleep disturbance and vivid dreams. This is because your digestive system requires a lot of energy to digest food. Your heart-rate will rise for a start. Light snacks (non-sugary) won’t affect you as much. In some cases, it will help to balance blood sugar levels because being hungry also interferes with sleep.

Sleeping Pills

As they are designed for short term use, I don’t recommend them because this isn’t a short-term problem. Sleeping pills are addictive and you might find you can’t sleep without them. If so, you are most likely addicted and that’s not great.

Our bodies play a part in bad dreams, especially with anxiety cases like me. I think our brains respond to stress hormone surges as we sleep. I have noticed that I typically wake up between 4.30 and 5.30. The dreams I have just before I wake (with my heart hammering) start off being fairly boring, but they always take a sinister turn. Just before my eyes fly open, in strolls Tarantino, and my dream turns into Reservoir Dogs. For example, this morning I was screaming in my dream. I was in imminent danger of being harmed by something unseen, but sinister, when I woke up with my heart pounding. Our heart rates naturally speed up during REM (when we dream) and my sensitised brain associates the increase in heart rate as danger and wakes me up. Clever, but annoying as fuck.

If this is you, my advice would be to get up once you wake up. No matter how early that is. It’s tempting to try and go straight back to sleep, but here’s the thing: Adrenalin is surging through your body and even if you manage to fall back to sleep, you will continue to have vivid dreams. It becomes a cycle. Get up, move about a bit and burn some of that adrenalin off!

We worry because it’s our hearts. Surely, all this waking up with rapid heart beats will cause us harm? The reality is that our hearts are designed to withstand adrenaline surges because this natural response keeps us alive. It’s unpleasant, but not dangerous. A few deep breaths and my heart rate is back to normal because I don’t add fear to the mix anymore, so I rarely have full-blown panic attacks. However, if these kind of symptoms are new for you, and are accompanied by chest pain and breathlessness, you should seek medical help.

There are many reasons why we have bad dreams. In being mindful of what we ingest, via our bodies AND minds, we can improve the situation. But I also think we just have to accept that some nights we are going to have crap dreams. So, lets not worry about it too much because that in itself will earn us a bad night’s sleep.

“Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there’s little fun to be had in explanations; they’re antithetical to the poetry of fear.” Stephen King

 

 

 

Fade To Grey..

Our hair turns grey as part of the ageing process, though I prefer silver or ‘salt and pepper’ as grey is one of those depressing words, like beige.

When Do We Go Grey?

Most women will start to see the odd grey hair from around their thirties. I was in my twenties, but then I don’t like to be average. By the time most women hit their fifties, around 50% of their hair will be grey.

Getting that first grey hair is bad enough..

First grey pube? Horrifying!

Why Do We Go Grey?

Hair color is the pigmentation of hair follicles due to two types of melanin: eumelanin and pheomelanin. Generally, if more eumelanin is present, the color of the hair is darker; if less eumelanin is present, the hair is lighter. – Wikipedia

So, we ‘devenir gris’..

‘Eh?’

The Visage song, innit.

“Aaah, we fade to grey (fade to grey)”

Yeah? So, ‘devenir gris’ means ‘go grey’ in French. You can’t say that I don’t educate you in this blog!

*whispers* I used to think it was ‘Div in your Gary’, but lets get back to the hair.

So, some of us go to great lengths (intentional hair pun) to try and hold back time, but unless we understand the affect hair colour has on our ageing skin, we can end up making ourselves look older than we actually are, which, quite frankly, sucks.

For starters – dark shades can be ageing. Worse still is the band of white roots. There is about a three week period before roots start to show, then it’s another three weeks of zig-zagging the parting to break up those telltale lines of grey. Six weeks later, it’s back to the hairdressers for a touch up and it’s not cheap having your hair professionally coloured, but it’s a case of cough up or buy a dye-it-yourself kit and the result can look epically crap depending on how competent one is at application. PLUS, let’s not forget the state of our bathrooms when we’ve finished slapping the stuff on our scalps. Put it this way. My last application of ‘Cherry Red’ made my bathroom look like a crime scene. I didn’t know whether to clean the bath or dust it for finger-prints!

We naturally fade as we age. Our skin gets paler. We lose that flush of youth. Granted, we are menopausal, therefore no stranger to flushes, but they are more Beetroot Red than Rosy Pink, wouldn’t you say?

To carry off dark hair, we need to know what we are doing make-up wise. Take Joan Collins for instance. Dark hair, but shit loads of make-up and a make-up artist who knows their stuff. We can get away with a lot when we are young, but when we are older we need to make adjustments or risk frightening small kids.

Or looking like we’re stuck in a time warp..

Doctor, take me back to 1981. The decade of Duran Duran, Jackie magazine and collagen.

Speaking of time-warps, I remember a rather ‘eccentric’ lady who wore mini-skirts, stilettos and garish make-up in the 80s. She was fifty if she was a day, but she was definitely stuck in the 60s – which was probably when reached her prime? Later, in the 90s, there was another lady in her fifties who dyed her hair white blonde, and wore blue- glitter eye-shadow, flares and platform shoes that high, she must have required a step-ladder to climb into them..

The first time I saw her lurching up the street was a Life on Mars moment where I thought I’d somehow fallen into a coma and woken up in 1973. The giveaway were two lads, (complete with classic 90s ‘curtain’ hairdos), who were taking the piss behind her back. That is, until she turned around and threatened to give them a thrashing with her platforms.

If dressing like that made her happy, then fair enough because I know ALL about being different. That said, I’m a big fan of the 80s, but if I was to strut down the shops wearing a ra-ra skirt, legwarmers and slingbacks, I’m fairly certain my family would put me in a home.

The point is that we can’t reclaim our ‘glory years’, no matter how much we might want to, because the menopause affects EVERY aspect of our being. We are not that person anymore.

So, hair.

I’ve had my share of hairdos. Good, bad and downright criminal.

Mullet? I had one.

One of those daft pigtails on short hair? Had one of those too and boy did I look a tit!

Highlights. Lowlights. Perms. Straight. Backcombed. Bobbed. Shaved up the back ‘n’ sides. Long. Short. Mid-length. Blonde. Brunette. Red. Mahogany. Oh, and black.

Black was a BIG mistake.

I’m done now. I want to embrace my natural hair which has been greying since I was in my twenties. I’m about four months into growing my hair dye out. It’s doing my head in, but I’ll persevere.

So, I am probably getting my hair cut short this week, unless my hairdresser advises me otherwise, in which case, I’ll be wearing a hat.

Or a wig.

Viva La Menopause

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Menopausal Middle-Aged Spread

My younger self listened to middle-aged women blaming their weight gain on the menopause..

‘I used to be six stone wet through, Sandra. Now I can’t breathe near a cake without gaining three stone!’

I deluded myself that ‘mid-life-spread’ wouldn’t happen to me because I’d always been relatively slim. I assumed I’d be one of those skinny old biddies like Dot Cotton off Eastenders, only shorter.

Before I go any further, this isn’t about ‘fat shaming’ because I admire plus size women who are body positive. I follow a few on social media and they look fabulous! They certainly know how to work those curves! However, I’ve also noticed that those women are not of menopausal age and here’s the thing:

Being menopausal and obese is a disease waiting to happen.

‘When you’re over 50 you have to pay attention to your health a bit’ ~ Dawn French

So, Mother Nature has taken the piss YET AGAIN because after tormenting me with 31 years worth of painful periods and psychotic mood swings, I’m now hauling an extra stone around with me every day – most of it around my middle.

I struggle with how being overweight makes me feel and being hyper-sensitive is probably the reason for this.

Why do we put on weight after the menopause?

  • Women are generally less active than before so muscle mass turns to fat.
  • Menopausal women are more prone to stress which produces high levels of cortisol. This causes us to put on weight around our middles resulting in the ‘muffin top’ effect.
  • Metabolism changes at menopause. It’s slower, so we have to put more effort in to burn fat.
  • Lifestyle habits such as comfort eating our way through family size bags of Revels and downing five gins a day.

‘So what do I have to do?’

It’s simple.

Exercise more, eat less and reduce your sugar intake.

Reduce sugar? Don’t swear at me!

Sugar (and fat) is what makes food addictive. Nobody comfort eats salad, right? However, overdoing it comes at a cost to our health. For this reason, I am concerned about the ‘eat what you want, as much as you want and fuck everybody who says otherwise yolo’ ethos of the body positive movement because it has serious consequences for menopausal women who have lost the protection their hormones once gave them. It in our long-term interests to be (and maintain) a healthy weight.

‘But-but-but I can’t live without five sugars in my tea!’

The current guidelines state that sugar shouldn’t take up more than 5% of our daily calorie intake. I know it’s hard and I haven’t ditched the sugar altogether, but I have reduced it drastically and that’s partly because blood sugar spikes trigger my palpitations.

‘Rightio. I’ll use sweeteners then.’

Sweeteners are an option, yes, but they can have side effects, especially for IBS sufferers, so do your research and see what works for you.

The Educational Stuff

Refined carbs such as white bread, potatoes, alcohol, biscuits, cakes and sugary drinks need to be limited because they make blood-sugar go bonkers and over a period of time this will lead to insulin resistance.

Blood sugar levels are regulated by eating unrefined whole foods such as fruits, vegetables, and whole grains. Boring as fuck, but necessary, as complex or unrefined carbohydrates are processed slowly over a longer period of time and require a small amount of insulin for metabolism. Personally, I can’t get as excited over brown rice as I do a plate of chips, but there you go..

So it’s not just as simple as limiting calorie intake. It’s no use eating 1200 calories if there are all refined carbs. This is where the word ‘balanced’ comes in. If we can eat a balanced diet with reduced calories, we will reap these benefits.

  • Clearer skin
  • More energy
  • Better concentration
  • Fewer hot flushes
  • Reduction of PMS
  • Improved sleep
  • Fewer mood swings
  • Better mental health
  • Fewer urges to stab people
  • Weight loss
  • Muscle mass
  • Less bloating

Tempting huh?

So, I downloaded a calorie counting app on my phone and set my limit to 1200 calories a day for a loss of 2lb a week and the result is that a week later I’ve lost 4lbs!

It’s amazing (not to mention alarming) just how many calories I’ve been shovelling into myself without realising it. It’s no wonder I am a stone overweight!

‘A stone? Big deal!’

I know it may not sound a massive amount, but it’s relative, because I’m 5ft 1 inches small AND I have sensory processing issues. That one stone might as well be five in my world and I REALLY struggle with how it feels!

Would it surprise you to know that I struggled with pregnancy for this reason? I was COLOSSAL with all three of my boys. Needless to say, I whinged throughout each pregnancy.

Again, it was Mother Nature having her little joke because there was no way she was going to allow me (a 6lb baby) to produce 6 lb babies of my own. Oh No. I had to heave 8 and 10 pounders out of my vagina. I mean, ffs!!!

So, everyone has their ‘perfect weight’ where they feel wonderful and healthy and the world is full of unicorns and sunbeams. Mine appears to be eight and a half stone – so that’s what I’m aiming for.

Basically, once menopause hits, we have to rethink our lifestyle or risk the proverbial shit hitting the fan health-wise, and by ‘shit’, I mean heart disease, cancer, diabetes and Alzheimer’s.

That’s the reality.

Yes, some women can eat what they like, drink what they like and smoke 100 fags a day and the bastards will live to be 100, but they are the exception, not the rule. Plus, what’s the point of longevity if you’re too ill to enjoy it?

Fuck it, Mildred. Lets get drunk and eat lots of cake!

It’s simple really.

  • Do more.
  • Eat less.
  • Eat healthily
  • Don’t skip meals
  • Reduce refined carbs
  • Stop smoking
  • Limit alcohol
  • Lower stress levels

The quality (and longevity) of our lives is in our hands now. According to Super Genes: ”Only 5% of disease-related gene mutations are fully deterministic, while 95% can be influenced by diet, behavior, and other environmental conditions.

We can kid ourselves that life is too short while we are scoffing our fourth chocolate digestive in a row and necking treble brandies, but the reality is that we are potentially the ones shortening it by making poor lifestyle choices.

The key word to mid-life health is moderation. A cake once a week won’t hurt you. Nor will the odd glass of alcohol. It’s when they are consumed in excess that the harm is done. Even the smallest of tweaks to our lifestyle will make a difference and one tweak generally leads to another as we begin to feel fabulous, right?

Viva la menopause!

The Vagina and the Menopause

Vagina and the Menopause is a good name for an all female rock band don’t you think?

No?

Moving on then…

I’ve droned on about so many aspects of the menopause but the thing that I have struggled with the most is the fact that my body is so different. It’s almost as if I am inhabiting someone else’s because this sure as sausages doesn’t feel (or act) like the one I’m used to.

In reality, I sort of have my body backthe body I had before hormones turned me into a psychotic mess every month. I just get to keep the boobs, the tell-tale signs that I have given birth to three children (one removed via my abdomen) and my battered vagina.

It’s Mother Nature’s gift to me.

The menopause is a natural part of ageing which affects you inside and out. This, combined with wrinkles can make you feel about as desirable as a pig trough, and as if that wasn’t crap enough – sometimes you lose your sex drive too.

It’s true. Sean Bean could be standing in front of you naked and you’re like, ‘Whatevs Sean. Put the kettle on love, eh?.’

I miss my oestrogen. I miss the feeling of calm it gave me. Also, the lubrication. Another crap thing about the menopause is how things start to, er, dry up. The last time my GP poked her finger up my vageroo, she informed me that, ‘It’s all healthy up there except for some slight atrophy.’

Slight what?

A trophy?

What the hell did it win? The vagina most likely to need a safety net as part of the birth plan?

For those of you who are not au fait with atrophy, I will enlighten you.

verb
verb: atrophy;
1.
(of body tissue or an organ) waste away, especially as a result of the degeneration of cells, or become vestigial during evolution.
“the calf muscles will atrophy”

Gradually decline in effectiveness or vigour due to underuse or neglect.

Now, you’d imagine it’s time for your weary vagina to get rest after decades of, er, use?

Nope.

According to the experts, you need to keep it ‘exercised’.

And lubricated.

Basically, you need to shove something up there once a month, even if it’s plastic and works on AA batteries – just make sure you wash it down after.

There is nothing REMOTELY dainty about the menopausal vagina that has seen some battle.

The menopausal vagina is like the state of your living room the morning after your teenage children have thrown a wild party. A total shit-hole with stuffing hanging out of the sofa and an odour that you can’t decide if it’s good or bad. Am I wrong?

Yes, your fanjo will smell different.

It’s another perk of the menopause. YAY!

Different is fine but if you find that a distinct fishmongery smell is following you around and people are passing out after you’ve been for a wee, you might want to get it checked out by your GP as offensive odours are not normal, sistahs.

Reasons for vag pong are as follows..

1. Bacterial vaginosis that causes a vaginal discharge and odor
2. Concentrated urine due to dehydration
3. Urinary tract infections
4. Urinary leakage

First thing would be to make sure you are drinking enough water.

Most of us don’t drink enough but as I have said, after the menopause it’s ALL about lubrication and hydration. One way of knowing if you are dehydrated is to check the colour of your wee. It should be pale. If it’s dark, you are most likely dehydrated. You should also be aware that medications and supplements can make your wee different colours. For instance, B12 makes mine day glo yellow.

The reason our vagina’s go from sweet smelling to not is due to pH levels. Aside increasing intake of water, you can improve the situation with exercise and a a bit o’ internal massage, you get me?

Then there are the aesthetics..

Generally, after decades of being pounded by penises (real or plastic) and heaving out human beings, the vagina looks like it’s gone ten rounds with Joe Calzaghe. Things, er, loosen up a bit. The unflattering term, I believe, is ‘bucket fanny’. This is where you regret not doing those pelvic floor exercises when the midwife told you to, eh?

The way your ‘fanny flaps’ hang arrange themselves also affects how you wee because if they are in the way, the wee can’t flow smoothly. Sometimes there’s a ‘sprinkler’ effect where the wee goes in several directions at once and if you haven’t pulled your knickers down far enough you can end up with a soggy bottom.

No, I’m not talking from personal experience. HOW VERY DARE YOU!

*lies through teeth*

Personally, I don’t have a problem with excess ‘flappage’ as I prefer to think of it as potential skin graft material should I ever find myself needing one.

Clouds and linings, people.

However, if you want to take drastic measures, you can buy a ‘designer vagina’ via plastic surgery.

Labiaplasty reduces the size of the labia minora.

In English: Over decades of having sex and giving birth, your flaps may start to resemble a pair of elephants ears as opposed to the mouse ones you started off with. These billowing flapolas are a match for the elephant sized derriere that also seems to be yours. This would explain the jump from skimpy briefs to all encompassing Spanx pants and why you can’t walk into Top Shop without setting off alarms..

The good news is that if you dare to go commando in Summer – the waft from your flaps will keep your thighs nice and cool and the flies off your chips.

WIN and WIN, ladies!

Labiaplasty reduces your flaps back to something like their former glory.

Vaginoplasty is designed to reduce the size of the vagina.

Self explanatory.

For between £1000 and £3000, you can have this done. I say, SOD THAT! I’ll take my chances with a tub of KY, Fem wipes and doing some Kegal exercises in the post office queue.

What do you say, ladies?

“Why do people say “grow some balls”? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.” Betty White

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five Reasons I Hate Snow

 

1~ It’s cold.

Snow can be cold. The kind of cold that strikes through to the bones and freezes your snot. People say that children don’t feel the cold but they obviously never met the likes of me. Soggy mittens were never my idea of fun, people, hence I generally ‘enjoyed’ the snow from the warmth of the dining room window. That said, there have been moments in my menopausal journey where I would have given my right nip to be able to shove my face in a snowdrift..

2~ Aesthetics

There is something quite beautiful about fresh snowfall. I always marvel at the white blanket that magically transforms even the shittest of places.

Then humans and animals ruin it all.

First come the size 14 boot prints of the milkman.

Then, come the patches of yellow snow..

There is nothing remotely picturesque about a snow filled garden when you have dogs. Even less when it’s a small yard.

Then there is the joyous act of cleaning up after your four-legged friend has taken a dump in the snow..

Never had the pleasure of digging out a dog turd from 8 inches of snow?

You’ve never lived!

*snorts*

Lets not forget the lazy-arsed owners who genuinely believe that their dog’s excrement will dissolve in the snow so there’s no need to get that poo bag out eh?

What actually happens is that once the snow has melted – the pavements are smeared with poo which gets on everybody’s shoes and into their homes. Incidentally, these are the same breed of dog owners who believe that slinging shit bags into trees makes them inconspicuous.

*double snort*

3~ Driving

The problem with this country is that we are never prepared for wintry conditions. Our cars suddenly turn into Torvill and Dean – only less graceful.

To be fair, it’s the scariest thing to find yourself sliding down the road with absolutely no control whatsoever. I’ve had a few ‘squeaky bottom’ moments in my time so I avoid driving in the stuff whenever possible. However, I still get anxiety from watching other drivers sliding perilously close to my car as their back wheels have a mental breakdown.

Note to self: Next house must have a driveway.

4~ Snowballs (and other bodily parts)

No matter where you are or who you are with, at some point some idiot will throw compacted snow in your face and fall about laughing. For some reason, this is considered normal behaviour? But if I was to fast-spin a cricket ball at them, I’d be hand-cuffed and trundled off to the police cells.

*throws hands up in the air*

Then there are the snow-people complete with balls and boobs..

Nothing says Christmas quite like the sight of a snowman with a massive set of knackers on the front lawn, eh?

5~ It’s Slippy

As I’ve got older, there is another reason why I hate snow and ice.

It’s slippy.

The problem is that I have Osteopenia.

Osteopenia? Isn’t that a film about mods?

No, that’s Quadrophenia.

Osteopenia is the pre-curser to Osteoporosis. In other words – thinning bones. This means that I am more likely to break a bone should I fall over. Even a minor fall could have serious consequences. *serious face*

This is monumentally crap because I’m only 47 but it is what it is and all I can do is protect myself as much as I possibly can. So I fit contraptions to my boots (cleats) to stop me falling over and they do work. I am the ONLY parent on the school run who wears them. However, the well-being of my bones trumps dignity, no?

Note to self and other snow grip users: Do NOT attempt to walk on a tiled floor with your ‘cleats’ on. You’ll be on your arse faster than you can say Bolero!

Then there are the women who wear high heels when the pavements are blatantly icy. What’s more is that they manage to stay vertical! There’s me taking tentative steps despite the protection of my grips and they overtake me wearing stilettos as if they didn’t get the memo that it has snowed!

Witchcraft?

One theory is that the heels act like little ice-picks so maybe there is some method in this madness?

Even so. I think I’ll stick to my flat heeled boots and snow grips, ta very much. I’d rather look like Nanook of the North than end up sprawled on the pavement with a busted hip.

So, there are my five reasons why I hate snow.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it NOOOOOO!!!

I rode on a plane a couple years ago with Snow Patrol and didn’t know who the hell they were. They said they were big fans of mine and were playing Madison Square Garden. And they let me listen to one of their records on their iPod. I started to weep. ~ Neil Sedaka

 

 

The Many Moods Of The Menopause

Most women are used to being moody for two weeks out of every month, right? Our significant others understand that all a woman wants during her premenstrual and menstrual phase are painkillers, a hot water bottle and a family size bar of chocolate and if we don’t get those things we’ll be up on a manslaughter charge. Diminished responsibility, obvs.

Here’s the thing..

Menopausal women don’t get a break from the mood swings. The length of time it can take for things to settle down vary but it can take up to 15 years for all the symptoms to subside.

FIFTEEN YEARS!

When it comes to our ever changing moods – think of them as a relay race where Happy starts off and passes the baton to Irritation – who passes the baton to Anger – who passes the baton to Psycho – who passes the baton to Melancholy – who passes the baton to Guilt who sprints through to the finish.

THEN IT ALL STARTS AGAIN AND NOR NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER.

Irritation

Everything and everybody irritates you. Nuff said?

Psycho

This is turbo-charged irritability.

Scenario: Mrs X has struggled with hot flushes ALL day. Her boss is an inconsiderate arse biscuit who’s fed up of her numerous visits to the loo to stick her furnace face under the cold tap. She fights her way home in rush hour traffic, then opens her front door to find her living room is a shit-tip. The carpet is 50% dog hair, 50% Pringles. The dishes are doing the leaning tower of Pisa in the sink. The house smells like somebody died in it and the culprits behind the chaos are staring lifelessly at the X Box in some kind of gaming-induced coma. The only reason Mrs X knows they are alive is because their thumbs are still moving..

Mrs X realises that while she’s been slaving away at work, the lazy oafs she heaved out of her vagina sixteen years ago have been sat on their backsides killing zombies all day and calling each other ‘dude’ or ‘man’.

‘Pass the Pringles, Man’

‘Dude. WTF?! You killed me!’

Mrs X starts to feel the familiar sensation of heat rising from her chest upwards..

This is where she goes from irritated to PSYCHO.

She starts yelling. This may or may not be coherent. Then, she starts chucking stuff. First, her handbag hits the wall. Then she frenziedly starts yanking wires out of sockets, spitting out a few effs here and there. This gets her offspring’s attention because to prematurely end a gaming session is like shutting off a life support machine. If you were to look closely enough, you’d notice that they were turning blue..

Once the X Box is in bits all over the floor, Mrs X slams off upstairs for a weep and by the time she resurfaces, the living room’s had a make-over, the dishes are done and all the knives have been hidden.

Unsurprisingly, ‘Psycho Mum’ gets things done because she’s fucking terrifying!

Anxiety

Fear loves the menopause. Having entered into this stage of life, we become more aware than ever of our mortality. We gauge our longevity against that of our mothers and grandmothers. We fear the future. We fear getting old. We fear forgetting. We fear being alone.

We fear everything.

Melancholy

Once we know our reproductive days are over, some women break out the Champagne. Others just get sad. They grieve for the babies they will never have despite knowing that they wouldn’t have had anymore anyway because they’ve, like, been there, done that and worn the tee shirt OVER THEIR HEADS!

Also, their wombs are like withered balloons.

In all honesty, if they were to heave another human out of their fadginas, they would probably need a safety net as part of the birthing plan.

So, we cry for our youthfulness because it’s apparently buggered off, dragging our ovaries with it. A few gins and Spandau Ballet’s Greatest Hits on the iPod and we’re sobbing for Britain. Why? Because when Tony Hadley first crooned the lyrics to True back in 1983 – when we were in full possession of our hormones, faculties (ish) and teeth.

Also, we had GREAT hair!

Disconnection

Sometimes women find that their entire personalities change. They don’t recognise themselves anymore. Their bodies are different. Their minds are different. They feel different.

Sometimes, women feel as if they they’re going crazy and people say: ‘You’re effing crazy, you are!’

To be fair, they have just lobbed hubby’s best golf club over the back fence in a fit of hormonal rage..

But you know what? This menopause lark is NOT easy for many of us.

If people could spend a day being us – they would understand that it’s not craziness – it’s exhaustion, depletion and bewilderment.

It’s also a sense of disconnection, as if we are observing ourselves? Rather than owning our own bodies and minds. It’s hard to understand that we can never be the same as we were before the menopause. It’s just not biologically possible.

Hysteria

Have you ever started laughing at something funny for it to morph into hysterical crying?

This happened to me.

One minute I was laughing at Victoria Wood singing about being Freda being bent over backwards on her hostess trolley. Proper belly laughing. The next I was crying hysterically and OH was debating whether or not to call the chaps in white coats to come and inject me.

The cause?

Hormones.

Those little shits are the reason behind ALL the crappy bits of menopause.

Lack of Motivation

Basically, you get days where you have zero motivation. That pile of ironing? Sod it. Need to go shopping? Sod that too! You make a date with your duvet and something with Colin Firth/ Sean Bean/whoever in it and woe betide any human over the age of 14 who tries to come between you and your 13.5 togs!

Happy

We get moments of happiness too. Hurrah! Granted, these moments can turn from happy to not happy a bit sharpish (Boo) but you’ve got to understand that it’s all down to hormone imbalance.

It won’t always be this way.

One day your feral hormones will start behaving themselves. The hot flushes will trail off. The moods will stop swinging. The brain fog will clear and you will accept your new ‘norm’.

But inside you’ll always be 16, eh?

Mullet Queen 1986

 

 

 

Empty Wombs: Menopause and Infertility

I was struggling to think of a snappy title for a post about loss of fertility and the menopause. Then I heard Gary Moore’s ‘Empty Rooms’ on the radio…

For most women, the menopause happens around the age of 51 but I wasn’t even 40 when my gynae consultant informed me that my eggs had flogged themselves into early retirement. The technical term he used was ‘ovarian failure’.

I was only 39. It didn’t seem fair?

I phoned my mum.

‘I’m f**king menopausal, Mother!’ I howled.

She heard me out, then said, ‘Oh my darling girl, I’m sorry to hear this but I was the same age when I started mine, you know.’

I’ve blamed her ever since.

The reality hit me a few weeks later..

I could no longer make a baby.

I broke down and sobbed. LOUDLY.

No, I mean REALLY LOUDLY. My pet rats, Thelma and Louise, were that perturbed they did a load of poo then hid in their toilet roll inner-tubes.

Biologically, I have done what I was put on this earth to do. I’ve reproduced. Not once, but three times. Given that some women are unable to have a biological child, I am fully aware of how lucky I am.

Some women are only too happy to reach the end of their baby-making days. For them, there is a great sense of relief that they are able to give their bodies a well earned rest. For others, it’s a loss and as with any other meaningful loss there is grief.

I understand that women who have never been able to have their own children might read this post and feel pissed that somebody has the audacity to moan about not being able to have any more children when they already have three. My heart goes out to those women but I can only tell my own story..

I didn’t expect to feel this way.

Most likely, I wouldn’t have chosen to have another child. I was a month off being 39 when I had The Boy and my body didn’t know what had hit it. However, the choice was taken away from me and I think that’s where part of the problem lay. I no longer felt in control of my body. In fact, I’ve not felt in control of my body since but they say that it can take up to ten years for things to settle down after the menopause.

TEN MOTHERFUNGLING YEARS!

Some women choose to have a career first and children later, which is fine. Many women are having their first child in their 40s nowadays. However, if I’d have left it until I was 40, it would have been too late for me to have child with my second husband. As it turns out, my early menopause seems to be genetic and I would advise women who want to have children later rather than earlier, to take note of their mother’s menopause because history has a way of repeating itself..

Sometimes I dream of being pregnant. I see my tummy growing bigger and there is the feeling of euphoria (similar to when I see deceased relatives in my dreams) but as the dream unfolds my tummy grows smaller. Or I have a scan only to be told that there is nothing there. It’s like I’m having a phantom pregnancy in my sleep but it’s just my subconscious reminding me that I can’t have anymore babies – the bastard.

You know what?

It’s OK to feel sad that your baby-making days are over. It’s OK to grieve. It’s OK to secretly hate the sight of pert-breasted young women pushing prams because they exude youthfulness and you feel like shit.

Here’s the thing. The menopause will come for them too. Their bottoms will sag. Their nipples will head south and their ovaries will throw in the towel.

It comes TO US ALL.

That said, try and remember how wonderful it felt to be a new mother. It would be wrong to deny them the same happiness that you experienced, eh?

Try to see this time of life as a positive thing. Yes, it effing sucks. BUT. There are positives.

We no longer have to worry about unplanned pregnancies. Although, it is possible to get pregnant when you are going through the change, so don’t be throwing your contraception in the air just yet. Normally, a woman is told to take precautions for twelve months after her last period – two years if your menopause is early. So if you’ve spent the last 20 years rearing your brood and dreaming of retiring to Spain once the last one has bogged off then I would make sure you keep taking the pills, no?

Regards the mood swings ‘n’ stuff..

After the menopause has passed you will no longer have the urge to stab your husbands/partners face because your hormones will eventually settle down. Hence, the chances of you being done for manslaughter decrease. Who wants to spend their autumn years Pleasuring Her Majesty? Or is it, Her Majesty’s Pleasure?

Confusion. Another perk of the menopause.

I know how it feels to wake up at 2am DRENCHED in sweat due to a hot flush. You toss and turn for a few hours then give up and lie there listening to your other half snoring his head off. For a few seconds, you ponder ending his life. Why? Because you are suffering and he’s not. It pisses you RIGHT off that he is still able to make a baby while your ‘bits’ are decomposing. You worry that he might leave you for someone younger and fertile. But take heart, dear, because shit happens to men too. Their penises shrink and they can develop, er, performance problems. What can I say? Age can be a cruel mistress to both sexes.

There comes a time when the grief passes and you accept what is. Think of your womb as the cocoon which held your little butterflies in the making?

Second thoughts. Scrap that. It sounds wanky.

The key to surviving the menopause is to find the positives in it. Stick a Victoria Wood DVD on and have a damn good laugh about it. Really wibble yer bits. Yes, your reproductive system is now defunct but it’s earned it’s retirement, wouldn’t you say? Hopefully you are in a comfortable place financially and can spend more time doing the things you want to do. I’m not there yet because I had my youngest child at 39, not that I would change a thing. If anything, it gives me the incentive to keep myself as healthy as is possible because my job isn’t done yet. But for those of you whose kids have left home – this time is yours – so enjoy it.

Viva La Menopause!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sex and the Menopause

When I was a kid, the mere thought of my parents having sex was enough to have me projectile vomiting all over the nylon carpet. I mean, they were in their THIRTIES!! URGH!!

As we know, anything past 30 to a child is practically Jurassic.

I imagine we’ve all got stories like this but as a teenager I walked in on my parents one Sunday afternoon. IN THE LIVING ROOM!

OH. MY. GOD.

It was one of those moments in life where you pray that you’re experiencing a psychotic episode and the horror you see before you is an hallucination. Only it wasn’t an hallucination. My parents had taken advantage of a teen-free house but hadn’t bargained on their daughter popping home for her Duran Duran LP. Needless to say, I’m still in therapy.

*assumes fetal position and quietly sobs*

Why am I even mentioning this?

Well, my mother was well into her menopause by then so, HORRIFYING as that memory is, it’s also kind of cool that there was still some life in the old girl despite the decline of her reproductive bits. Mother did later confirm (under the influence of numerous whiskies) that she’d enjoyed an active sex life up until her late 50s. My fingers were jammed in my ears at the time but I think that’s what she said..

My grandparents having sex?

QUELLE HORREUR!

In my grandmother’s day – women hit the menopause and sex was off the menu except for the odd fumble after one too many port and lemon’s. To be fair, families were generally much bigger back then. A woman’s job was to be a mother and a home-maker and many were still firing out babies into their late 40s and early 50s. Understandably the menopause provided a welcome break to women and their weary vaginas..

Things are different now.

Women are different now.

Many menopausal women have the same sexual appetite as they ever did. More so, in some cases – especially if they are HRT’d up to the eyeballs. However, some women experience do sexual problems during and after the menopause..

Libido

Sex drive gradually declines with age in women and men. However, women are more likely to be affected earlier because of the menopause. Think of your libido as an air bag that’s been deployed, a deflated balloon snagged in the branches of a tree or a bouncy castle after the generator’s turned off..

Depressing, no?

It’s not all gloom and doom though. There are things you can do to inflate the ol’ libido.

Exercise – If you are overweight and feel crap, it will affect how you feel sexually. So eat healthily, lose a few pounds and do some exercise.

Stress – Stress affects libido BIG TIME so take address your stress levels. Do some relaxation exercises or go stare at a tree for half an hour a day.

Stimulate Thyself (brain) – Read Fifty Shades of Filth or other such classic literature.

Another problem with libido is that having hot flushes at night. They interfere with sleep and turn amiable women into fire-breathing dragons. Morning sex? Well yeah, IF YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH! The LAST thing a woman wants after night’s hormonal sweat-a-thon is a frisky partner with cod breath!

The Big O

Another problem is that many women notice that their orgasms are more, Oh, Than OH OH OH!!!!

How to explain this?

Orgasms can become more of a damp squib than the knee-tremblers you may be used to but before you go and hurl yourself into the nearest canal – listen up.

You can STILL achieve a decent (ish) orgasm.

The key to it is stimulation.

You can lie there and think about Sean Bean in his Y Fronts till the cows come home, dears. You need to go that extra mile (or two) and so will your OH. Get him/her to play you like a banjo if needs be. Failing that, get yourself a vibrator and give yourself a blast on that thing for five minutes. Think of it as giving yourself a ‘jump start’. A bit like starting up an old banger on cold a winter’s morning. Get your jump leads out and stick em on your battery!

Tip. Don’t bother with anything handbag sized if you’ve heaved out a few nine pounders. It’ll be like throwing a chipolata up a corridor. You get me?

Painful Sex

Another problem women have to endure is pain during sex.

Here’s the rub (intentional pun)

Lack of oestrogen thins the vaginal walls. Yes, really. Technical word is vaginal atrophy. It’s nature’s way of telling us that our reproductive work here is done and we can crawl off into a corner and DIE. You might start to find that the ol’ vageroonie gets a bit dry? VERY COMMON. The reason for this most shittest of conditions is a decline in oestrogen.

One word.

Lube.

You can get oestrogen creams via your GP if you prefer but be aware that there could be unwanted side effects and not just for you. If used incorrectly your bloke could develop bigger boobs than you. NOT JOKING.

Bottom line. If you want to keep your ‘glovebox’ in good working order – keep it lubed and exercised.

A Word on Pubes

Another perk of the menopause is that your pubes turn grey. MASSIVE bummer. However, we have options.

Shaving

Shave them off. Or if you’re into pain, pay to have some sadist wax them off.

Dyeing

Dye them to match your natural shade or go for something a bit more funky. Shocking pink perhaps?

Eu Naturel

Embrace them as they are. Greying. Sparse. Depressing.

Get Creative

Next time you go to the hairdressers, nick some hair off the floor that’s closest to your natural shade and make yourself a little pube-toupee.

Pube-Toupee anyone?

It may be the case that you’ve had enough of sex for one lifetime and you’re quite looking forward to settling down at night with a Horlicks and Saga magazine. This is perfectly acceptable, as long as your partner is happy with the situation? Bit of an issue if they’re not. You need to talk to them because your menopause affects them too. It’s important that they understand that your body has changed – therefore your sex-life will change. This isn’t the 1950’s where we talk about ‘the change’ in hushed tones. It’s something that happens to every woman. It’s also worth bearing in mind that there are many other ways to be intimate that don’t involve swapping body fluids but that’s one for another post because I’ve already exceeded my word count..

The menopause may signal the death knell for your reproductive life but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s time for the flannelette nighties just yet. You just have to put in a little more effort, that’s all.

Viva La Menopause!

 

 

 

The Menopausal Gym-Dodgers Work Out

I hate the gym.

Firstly because I’m an anti-social arsehole. Secondly, I have a pathological fear of looking at another woman’s pubes (attached or on the floor) when I’m showering.

Communal showers? Me dear? No dear.

The last female pubes (other than my own) that I clapped eyes was in 1986 when I was shoved into the communal showers by our sadistic PE teacher who was having no more of my ‘Please excuse my daughter from showering – she’s on her period’ notes.

The gym not your bag either? Here are some simple (but effective) exercises you can do at home or when you are out and about.

The Curling Tongs Squat – Bum & Thighs

I use my straighteners for this exercise..

Instead of resting the appliance on a table, or between your thighs, put it on the floor.

Health and safety: Use a heat mat (obvs) or you’ll set fire to the farking carpet.

Starting in the standing position, keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Pull in your tummy, push your hips back and bend your knees, lowering the body into a squatting position. Pause, pick up your hair appliance, then push back up to the starting position. Fiddle with your hair a bit, then lower yourself back into the squatting position – placing the appliance on the floor.

Do these squats every time you do your hair and you’ll have a rear-end like Kim Kardashian in no time!

Health and Safety: Have your mobile phone to hand in case you pop a hip joint.

The Bag For Life Cardio and Bicep Workout – Biceps/Cardio

Go to local supermarchet and buy two carrier bags worth of groceries. These must include a few tins. I suggest ‘bags for life’ – not those flimsy pieces of shite they flog you for 5p. You know the ones – wispy bits of plastic that surrender under the pressure of a loaf and a packet of Kit-Kats.

Keep the loads evenly balanced and start walking home.

Build up a nice fast pace to get your heart going like the clappers, hence, cardio.

Once you’re nice and warmed up – start lifting your carrier bags as if you’re doing a bicep curl with a dumbbell. Do a few reps with the right, then switch to the left.

You might notice people crossing the road away from you or doing a finger-swirly thing at the side of their heads? Swirly-finger aside, they are actually doing you a favour because it means that you have the entire pavement to yourself. More room to throw those bags about, dears.

Too far to walk? No probs! Park your car further away and get a few reps in before you collapse onto the drivers seat. Opt for this instead of doing your shopping online and within a few months you’ll be fit as feck.

Or possibly dead after having suffered a massive coronary..

Health and Safety: Always carry your mobile phone should you need to phone for a taxi or ambulance.

StairMaster Challenge – Bum & Thighs – Cardio.

This one is really simple. You alternate between running up the stairs and taking them two at a time whenever you get the chance. Running up the stairs gives you a cardio workout and taking them two at a time will give you thighs like tree-trunks. Just think of how magnificent you will look in those hot-pants you’ve been hoarding since 1975!

P.S This won’t work if you live in a bungalow.

Door Slide Squat – Bums & Thighs

For this you need a door – preferably a smooth one.

Stand with your back against a closed door and slowly lower yourself down to squatting position, then slowly push yourself back up.

That’s it.

First time I did this, the buggering door gave way. Before I knew what was happening my Reeboks were up in the air and I was staring at the bedroom ceiling. £250 quids worth of You’ve Been Framed right there. Thankfully nobody knew about except me. And now you, readers..

This exercise works your bum and thighs. Again, it might be an idea to keep your mobile handy in-case you can’t get up once you’re down. Though, I always find that a military type sideways roll sorts that particular problem out.

Health and Safety: Always check that the door shuts properly or you could end up doing yourself a mischief..

Bath Bingo-Wing Blaster – Triceps

Bingo-wings are what happens when the skin on your arms (the muscle above your elbow) carry on wobbling long after you’ve stopped waving to your mate across the street. It’s the reason cardigans were invented and it’s why some menopausal women wear one even when it’s 33 degrees in the shade.

YES I’M TALKING ABOUT ME!

Bingo-wings are unsightly but you can get rid of them without having some sweaty sergeant-major wannabe hovering over you bellowing, ‘GIMME FIFTY, YOU ‘ORRIBLE LITTLE WOMAN!’.

For this exercise, you’ll need a chair. A stable chair. Not a B & Q plastic garden chair.

Sit on the chair and grip the edges either side of you. Move your feet forwards to lift your bum off the chair. Keeping your knees hip-width apart and bent at 90 degrees, lower yourself by bending your arms to about 90 degrees, keeping your elbows tucked in. Push back up and repeat 10 to 15 times.

I do this on the side of the bath when I go for a wee.

NOT that I wee in the bath..

This is the same as the chair exercise. You simply use the side of the bath as you would the chair, innit?

Health and safety: Don’t do this after having a bath. It’s asking for a fast ride in the back of an ambulance with the nee-nar on.

Pelvic Floor Workout

As we age the muscles around the bladder, vagina and bum passage get slack. This is why we piss ourselves laughing. LITERALLY. However, there are exercises we can do to help with this problem and the good news is that we can do them anytime, anyplace – anywhere.

If you want to ‘feel’ where your pelvic floor muscles are – stop yourself mid-wee. That is your pelvic floor muscle working only you shouldn’t do this as a strengthening exercise.

Squeeze the muscles about 10-15 times in a row.

You can do this while standing in the post-office queue if you like. Unless your concentrating face is the ‘tongue out’ kind, nobody will know what you are up to. Do these exercises every day and stick the Vs up to incontinence.

So there you go. No need to go sweating it out at the local gym or paying extortionate fees. All these are free.

Note: These exercises are valid (except for the carrier bag bicep-curl which is me being a tit) but it’s a good idea to get yourself an MOT at your GPs before launching yourself into any keep fit regime. Oh, and make sure your life-insurance is up to date in the event of you carking it mid-squat. 😉

Viva La Menopause!

 

Viva La Menopause: Hair and Make-Up

There comes a day in your life when you’re standing in a mirrored-changing room and you look at yourself and think, ‘Effing hell! I look like an ageing glam-rocker!’

It’s a defining moment in your history.

We can’t stop ourselves from ageing but wearing the wrong make-up (or too much of it) can make us look older than our years. Teenage girls literally wear their own body weight in make-up to look older, right? So it’s logical that when we get older – the opposite applies. We need LESS make-up to look younger.

Here are my tips for looking magnificent after the menopause.

Hair

After the menopause most women suffer some level of hair loss. Why? Because Mother Nature is a cow.

Technically it’s to do with lack of oestrogen. You’ll find yourself de-clogging the plug-hole everytime you wash your hair. However, there are things you can do like limiting the use of hair straighteners etc and using hair-thickening shampoos. This is where ‘back-combing’ becomes a necessity rather than a fad. Do you know why little old ladies have their hair back-combed? It’s to make what little hair they have left go further. Of course, you could always do a Dolly Parton and slap a wig on?

When it comes to colouring hair- darker colours can be ageing and accentuate thinning hair. You also have to disciplined when it comes to touching your roots up or you end up looking like a badger. I’m currently a rather fetching Dot Cotton shade of red. Like Autumn, it’s my final fling with colour before I succumb to the monochrome. Once I hit 50, I intend to strip my hair of dye and have it cut short and a bit spiky. If it’s a really crap shade of grey, I will have it highlighted. Either way, I aim to be flippin’ funky at fifty!

Make-Up

There is a specific order to putting on make-up. However, I am a lot like the Morecambe and Wise sketch where Eric is playing ‘all the right notes, just not necessarily in the right order’. As long as I manage to get my foundation on first, I consider myself to be WINNING!

So, once we’ve faffed about with cleansers and anti-ageing creams, we can begin. *cracks fingers*

Foundation

Use the BEST foundation you can afford. You want one that STAYS on. I use Estee Lauder’s Double Wear which retails at around £30. It’s expensive and I have to flog a bodily organ every four months to afford it but it makes me look semi-alive and it stays on until I jet-blast it off the next morning last thing at night. This is the Chuck Norris of foundations.

Concealer

Bags under your eyes? You’ll need concealer. I use Touche Éclat by YSL which retails for around £25. It isn’t the cheapest but it is the only concealer that works on my dark circles. I have dark circles because insomnia goes hand in hand with the menopause and this little treasure gives the illusion of me having my full quota of kip. If you can’t bag a night’s sleep, blag a nights sleep.

Blusher

Once the hormones go feral it’s best to opt for cream blusher and BLEND that sucker in well or you’ll look a proper div, yeah?

Eyebrows

If you’re anything like me – thirty odd years of plucking the living shit out of your eyebrows has left them sparser than a Christmas tree in January. You can go and get some tattooed on if you like but be warned that it could leave you looking a 42 caret plonker if it goes wrong. Just add a few ‘hairs’ with an eyebrow pencil or eye-shadow. No, not Azure Blue! I mean one that matches your eyebrow hair – what’s left of it.

Eye-Shadow

Glitter is fabulous but glittery eye-shadow should ONLY be worn by teenage girls under the influence of Lambrusco. Glittery or frosted eye-shadow accentuates every crease. After a few hours, your eye-shadow settles into your eye-crevices and it looks nasty. You might as well have a neon sign over your head which says, ‘WELL PAST IT’. Opt for matt or cream shadows and leave the neon shades to the kids, eh?

I should mention brow bones here. You know? The area where you used to put your highlighter? Basically there is this ‘landslide’ thingy that happens with the skin on the brow bones as we age. That once defined line between brow-bone and eyelid becomes confined to the photograph album. I think there are exercises you can do to tone things up but I say SOD THAT for a game of conkers!

Eye-Liner

It’s the 1980s on the phone for you, dear. IT WANTS IT’S EYELINER BACK!

Confession time. I wore Electric Blue eyeliner until I was in my 40s. I have GREEN eyes!!! Awks!!

Mascara

Mascara is my number one favourite item of make-up. I would stab ANYBODY who tries to come between me and my magic wand. Thing is, I know my eyes are my best feature. Like me, they’re odd. One is green and the other is a mixture of green and brown. It’s very me. Mascara brings them to life and even if I was in the throes of a massive heart attack, I would still attempt to get a few strokes in..

No. YOU have a filthy mind!

My tip is to buy a decent mascara and use three coats. Then once a week, use a shit brand while you are doing the housework. Those three coats will weigh an absolute TON – the advantage being that it gives your ageing eyelids a much needed workout. Just as if your eyelids are pumping weights, innit?!

Lipstick

As we age, our lips become thinner. They can become wrinkled and lines may develop around our mouths. The boundary between lips and skin are less defined so lipstick ‘bleeds’ and if you’re a fan of red lippy you can end up looking like Robert Smith from The Cure if you’re not careful. However, there are things you can do though such as avoiding glossy or creamy lipsticks. Or how about ditching the lippy altogether and settling for a nice lip-balm? If you want to be really cheap – slap on some of that Vaseline that’s been festering in the back of your bathroom cabinet since 1988.

That’s it for this time, folks. VIVA LA MENOPAUSE!

Good morning, madam. May I interest you in our skin-care range? We do sell this astringent – I don’t know if it’s strong enough for what you need, but it brought my chip pan up lovely. ~ Victoria Wood ~ As Seen On TV.

Robert Smith Image Via Creative Commons