The Horror, the Horror

Is getting older still the worst thing that can happen to a woman?

I read the excellent articles that Bari Weiss’ outfit publishes on Substack. It offers first rate unbiased journalism. Which is why the link below to a movies review felt so out of tune, so dated.

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It actually shocked me. This post about a new movie with Demi Moore called The Substance might as well have been written fifty or maybe a hundred years ago.

The author, called a ‘friend of the Free Press’, in other words a stringer, is one Paula Froelich who works on camera for Network News. Her name in German means ‘joyful’ ‘happy’ or some combination of the two. She writes very well. And she says she is in a business where she must avoid at all costs ‘looking ancient’.

That being said, she delivered a review in which she totally identifies with the main character who at age fifty, gets fired from her job as an anchor because of the old, misogynistic producer (Jon Voight) who hankers after ‘hot, young, Now’ women. Poor Demi Moore, appropriately named ‘ Elisabeth Sparkle’, then enters into a Faustian bargain with The Substance, that allows her to be young and hot but also, reverts her to her normal self every other week. What could possibly go wrong?

Froelich gets the pain because, in a very real way, she has similar issues and tortures herself with whatever chemical/plastic/botox solution she can find to stay forever young. She knows how bad it is and therefore doesn’t bother to take a step back and look at this entire universe of women buying into the stereotype that we stop being important after a certain age.

She has in fact reverted to an age before the feminist revolution, when women defined themselves by how they looked and whatever youth they could fake. Not exactly women of substance. Reading Froelich, it’s like the feminists never happened. She seems oblivious to all the blessings of the feminist revolution. I am not even a fan, but I can tell you; it did change things. Feminism insisted that women were so much more than bodies—they were persons, with minds and wit and aspirations that went far beyond just being physically attractive. We had long, bitter battles about it for more than half a century! Why have so many young women of today forgotten all of this? Is this some long delayed counter revolution?

Simone de Beauvoir, whom I read avidly at age 17, warned women against the depredations of motherhood and getting too attached to the image in our mirrors. Betty Friedan wanted us to stop being housewives and buying into The Feminine Mystique, which you guessed it, was mostly about being physically alluring and being content with motherhood. I remember going to campus meetings where radical feminists spouted off. It was heady stuff. And while not a card carrying feminist, I was heavily influenced and many of my decisions—to get a degree, get a job and leave my marriage—had their impetus there. I wanted to be a woman of substance, I really did.

By the time the eighties arrived, a whole bunch of laws had been passed to make sure that men and women were on an even playing field out there in the career world. It worked. Suddenly, we saw female law firm partners and doctors and astronauts. We had achieved what we wanted; which was to not be defined solely by our physical attributes, motherhood and apple pie. We had become Persons. I never really bought the entire package because I am not a group type nor join groups, but overall, I thought it a good thing. I believed that we had ‘progressed’ beyond our grandmothers’ day. Well, I guess that’s over now because, according to this movie and Ms Froelich, nothing has changed. We’re back to square one, the mid-fifties, when men have all the power and no woman ever thought that she could take out a mortgage on her own: it was simply beyond the pale.

What a load of rubbish. The world of TV anchors might be quite anachronistic in that way, but out here in the real world, there are plenty of men who actually prefer a woman with some wear on her because she’s gained some wisdom and a sense of humour in the process called living. A world that judges a woman not by her looks but her talent and achievements. Her character. If you don’t believe me, have a look at the enormous tide of appreciation for the talent of none other than Dame Maggie Smith who died recently at the high old age of 89. She is the actress who created the most memorable character in the history of recent TV shows: the Dowager Duchess of Grantham, in Downton Abbey. She made the Duchess utterly disarming, bitchy and memorable. It’s impossible to imagine anyone else playing that part; she owns it. It’s beautiful though never about beauty itself. Even when she was young, Maggie Smith wasn’t particularly ‘pretty’; furthermore, she was always showcased her exceptional brilliance as a character actress. And she kept it going right to the end.

So, I would say to Ms Froelich and her throwback kind who made that horror movie, The Substance: take a page out of Maggie’s book. Develop your very own substance. Become substantial, pull yourselves together and stop whining and wasting your money on Botox etc. Grow up girls, become women with wrinkles, bellies and aching backs and actual achievements. Give it a go. You just might find that the world beyond the Beauty Bar is infinitely more exciting and satisfying. Done right, it will carry you to a graceful and dare I say, content old age. And that’s a big win because if current statistics for women are to be believed, our youth is short, but our senior years are growing ever longer. You might as well face it, dear. You’re heading into a long old age, when you will look much the worse for wear and what are you going to do about it? Spend your remaining days fighting old age? You’ve got to be kidding. I thought this was 2024, not 1924. But maybe I’m wrong. Please advise…