Yesterday I went out for dinner with three female friends.
Two of us wore trainers, a random sweater, and no makeup, sporting undyed, unstyled, greying hair and hands wearing no traces of manicure.
The other two wore cocktail dresses, stiletto heels, chunky golden jewellery, red nail polish, and nice haircuts blond enough not to show any grey.
Out of the four of us two are childfree; one is single, one married, one remarried, and one widowed.
The only thing we have in common is not being judgmental about the others. We’re all well over forty and for many years have been devout followers of a healthy notgiveafuckism rather than a healthy lifestyle.
(We abide by the credo that a large plate of pasta is always better than a small one and a bowl of ice-cream is never complete without a large blob of whipped cream.)