1978, I was living in New York City and I learned that the famous jazz singer Alberta Hunter had come out of retirement and was going to sing at the Cookery in Greenwich Village. I immediately ordered tickets. I knew this would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Alberta Hunter, who had started her singing career back in the 1920s singing with Louie Armstrong, had stopped singing many years before to become a nurse, but was now retired. And at age eighty-something, the Cookery convinced her to come and sing. What a joy and a privilege to see this beautiful woman. And she was truly beautiful—not for an eighty-year-old woman, but beautiful for any age. And I loved the stories she told and all the songs she sang. But most of all, I remember Alberta Hunter singing the very, very randy song, “My Man Is Such a Handy Man.” The entire song is made up of double entendres such as “he threads my needle. He creams my wheat.” Her performance was brilliant—down to earth, funny, relaxed, wise, and very, very sexy.
Alberta Hunter was sexy—not despite the fact that she was eighty, but because of it. The fact that she was eighty-something added a complexity to the evening. She owned her sexuality, her worldliness. You felt as if she’d had some amazing love in her life and that she had a confidence and a sense of humor about it. And her age added a certain richness to the song. This was a woman who had lived and loved. Who had known fame and left it all behind to live an ordinary life and then was back again.
I will admit, too, that because of her age, I knew that she would not be long in this world and that I was experiencing an event never to be repeated. And indeed, Alberta Hunter died seven years later.
I tell you this story not simply to say that you are always becoming and the story is always unfolding, but as a message to be alive to the present moment and to know that while you may not be a famous jazz singer or a not-quite-famous jazz singer like my friend Margie, nonetheless—whether you know it or not—you are still being observed. You are still an inspiration to the young and the not-so-young. Every day, you have an opportunity to send out the message that aging isn’t such a bad thing and it’s certainly nothing to be afraid of. In fact, it’s something quite delightful.
The Young and the Restless
If we deny our age and fight it, we are silently telling our daughters and younger people that aging is horrible. A nightmare ! We are giving out the message that they should not grow old at any cost. And so, even twenty-five-year-olds begin to fear aging and want to rush to the plastic surgeon. This is a losing battle. Why not show the younger generation that becoming une femme d’un certain âge has many benefits and that aging can be wonderful and something to actually look forward to?
Borrow a page from the French. Frenchwomen do not take anything for granted. They’ve been through hell and back through centuries of invasions and wars and economic tumult. They have lost many of their young men to wars and so as Frenchwomen, they have learned to survive on their own. This loss is part of their secret to being a self-assured femme d’un certain âge. They appreciate what they have in their lives, no matter how much or how little.
And if you are reading this and you are in your twenties or thirties or forties, let me play le rôle de votre mère (the role of your mother) for a moment. I have been where you are—there is not enough money or time. The job is not rewarding or stimulating enough. The baby has a cold and is always sniffling. You’re worried about your parents getting older. The house is a mess. Your husband seems to be preoccupied with work or your boyfriend broke up with you and now you are alone with this feeling you must begin all over again.
Here’s the truth of life—you are always beginning all over again. Every day brings something new. Embrace it. One day you will look back at your life and realize you were a part of something grand! Something important. You are part of this moment in history.
As une femme d’un certain âge, I often hear people talk about the 1960s and the political unrest and turmoil, the hard-won sexual freedom. I stop and think—Wow, I lived through all that. I remember that. But honestly, at the time, I was often distracted by whether I was going to get my biology homework done in time or not. I seldom looked up from my own personal concerns to see the bigger picture and to find the balance of myself as an individual in the context of the larger world.
In the 1980s, when Mrs. Estée Lauder was still around, I worked in the international division and wrote fashion copy for the famous cosmetic company. I wrote about the prêt-a-porter for the spring and fall color stories. Oh, and I was around for the naming of the famous fragrance Beautiful. Now, that was a dramatic time!
I loved my job, but at the time I didn’t think of it as more than a job. I spent most of my time wishing I could write for Hollywood! But at Estée Lauder, there were so many stories and once-in-a-lifetime experiences right there in front of me, I was completely nearsighted. Nowadays, people often tell me how glamorous it sounds and I have to take a step back and think—Yes, the truth is, in hindsight, the whole damn thing—this life, in fact—is glamorous!
So, appreciate what you have in this moment in your life and be present to the unfolding story right before you.
Your Unique Signature
When I first met Micheline Tanguy in Paris, she looked at me, eyes full of passion, and told me, “You want to know the secret of Frenchwomen and why she has confidence? Ooh la la? ” And then she paused for effect and told me: “You are Woman. Just be!”
Sounds a bit like a Zen koan, doesn’t it? But it’s true. The world is a tumultuous, ever-changing place. But you must find a way to be still, to quiet the mind, whether it’s through meditation or long walks or yoga or your Secret Garden (that real or metaphorical place that brings you peace and replenishment). As you age and as the world rumbles and roars into wild new directions, you must hold on to the things that make you you. And here, I’d like to suggest something radical to you, or perhaps just a little odd, but I suggest you practice your handwriting. Your handwriting, especially your signature, is something that is so personal and so revealing about who you are in this world. However, it’s easy to get sloppy and forget all about those early days when we first learned to sign our names or write a love letter or how we carefully added our signatures to the very first check we wrote. I suggest that you practice the lost art of writing real letters and that you take your time to write neatly and to sign your name with a bit of panache, not because it’s nice to do (though it is nice to do and in this age of e-mailing, it’s also very impressive), but because this act of holding pen to paper and transferring the thoughts from your heart to your hand and down to your fingers and on to the page is a lesson in Zen. And it’s a lesson in reconnecting to that little girl who first learned to write her name, and yes, to your truest, core self.
Plus, to write neatly and carefully is simply to be polite.
This act of focusing your attention on the little things that make you unique also applies to your voice. When you were a child, you discovered that a certain tone or pitch or volume would achieve certain results. But as we age, we take this very powerful and very individual part of our personality for granted and just as we might let our handwriting get a bit compromised, so, too, we can let our speaking voices deteriorate. Your voice is an instrument. It is powerful, seductive, intriguing, and completely unique. Why not bring some awareness to your voice. It’s just as much a “signature” to your individuality as a real signature.
Find Your Balance
This will help you to visualize your truest self. Once you do this, you can let go of the things that do not belong in your life—both literally (clear out those closets and give away the things you no longer treasure) and figuratively (do you really need to still play the ingenue?). Once you let go, you open up space for new things, true things. For me, it was rediscovering my grandmother and reconnecting with the long-held but hidden dream of visiting France and finally mastering the language and understanding my roots.
