Skip to main content

You Look Good...For Your Age

When did that start? I remember the times someone would say, Hey, you look good. Maybe at a wedding, after a long time no see, whatever. Whether you were once a beauty or not, you've all heard it. You look good. So when did the tag-on...for your age...begin? Forties? Fifties? Sixties? And beyond? And why is it on the one hand I take it as a compliment when I get the tag-on, and other times it leaves me feeling annoyed? Are we only supposed to look good when we're young and then when we get older we need the tag on because older people aren't supposed to look good anymore?

Men get the tag on, too, but I'm willing to bet not as often as women. I hear women and other men tell my husband, "you look good". It might be because he's lost some weight, is wearing a nice sweater, has a bit of color from the sun, whatever. But I can't tell you how many times I get the "You look good...for your age."  I get it from people my age but I especially get it from younger people. Do they think as you get older you can't just look good? And does it put an added pressure on us older women? I mean, what if we stop hearing we look good for our age? So then what? We look our age? We look lousy for our age?

Is this a no-win situation?

Or should I just take the compliment, however it's handed to me? Should I use this compliment as added impetus to do my best to look good? I don't know. I'm not really sure what looking good for my age actually means.

But I admit I'll probably get depressed when I stop hearing it. Vanity, ah vanity.


  1. "You look good...for your age. When did that start?"

    August 27, 2003 at 8:45pm.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Thank God you can pick your friends!

My husband and I are about to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of very special friends. We met Ted and Deanna 36 years ago and we've stayed strongly connected through a number of moves (ours not theirs), illnesses, life's many ups and downs. We've shared sad times and joyous times. We've traveled together, spent wonderful visits at each others' homes. I'm sure we must have shared thousands of meals together. Thousands of laughs. They've always, ALWAYS been there for us and we have always tried to be there for them. History. We have a deep and meaningful shared history. J. and I are  truly blessed to have a wonderful group of close friends and we value them all. But there are very few couples I've known and loved longer than this very special couple. You can't pick your blood relatives but thank God you can pick your friends. From the very first time we all met, J and I picked them. We were couples with young families. We were in the first dec

Let's get rid of the "pipe" in pipe dreams!

I have had dreams of doing any number of things all my life. Either I or others were quick to label them "pipe" dreams. "Pipe" as in foolish, impractical, ridiculous? A lot of people my age have come to realize that dreams are not the stuff of foolishness. The other day I got an email from a neighbor/friend from my old town who'd discovered my blog. She told me she had started a new "cottage" business of selling greeting cards with her amazing photos on them. Here's her site because you all really should check out these very original cards - It was a reminder to me that no matter our age, young, middle, older, oldest, we have the opportunity to dream new dreams, or capture old dreams and actualize them. We can stop identifying them as "pipe" dreams. I think many of us have spent a good portion of our adult lives  on being practical, cautious, and maybe feeling a little scared or a lot scared. Many of us stifled our cre

You can take the girl out of The Bronx, but...

Well, you know the rest. I have to confess for a long time I really tried to get rid of The Bronx. For a long time after that I thought I had. And for a long time I felt good about it. I'd escaped. No one could tell by my speech, my look, my style, etc. I used to love to hear, "You're from The Bronx? I'd never have guessed." And it's more than that. It's escaping a past that didn't fit in with my fantasy of who I wanted to become, who I wanted to be. It was an escape from a certain social class, an escape from parents whose customs, manners, interests felt alien to me - or maybe the truth was I wanted them to feel alien to me. I wanted to be my own creation!  But deep down I knew the truth. I knew it and it bothered me. I felt like there was really no escape. Not from The Bronx. Not from the lower income class that shaped me. Not from a mother who loved a bargain more than almost anything. And it bothered me. But lately something has changed. It&