See You Next Tuesday: Vol. I, No Four

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall -- whose the most middle-aged of us all?

A newsletter for women who have spent decades trying to recreate the joy they felt when the Delia’s catalog arrived in their mailbox.

How does aging happen? Gradually, then suddenly.

One day this summer, I looked in the mirror and I no longer recognized myself. The lines in my forehead, which had been a genteel whisper at 40, were a Munch-like scream at 41. The grey hairs were plentiful, crying out for a root touch-up. And everything from my head to my toes just felt…rounder, and droopier.

After a lifetime of looking younger than my numerical age, time had finally caught up with me. So I did what any well-adjusted, confident woman would do: I had a tiny meltdown on social media.

What can I say? I contain multitudes.