AGE-OLD PROBLEM Why does a woman’s age matter far more than that of her male counterparts?
emember that scene in Pitch
Perfect 2 when Rebel Wilson ( pictured), playing the hilarious Fat Amy, paddles across the lake singing the Pat Benatar classic “We Belong”? It’s a bonkers, comically perfect scene that left me laughing in that slightly unhinged manner where other cinema goers turn and stare. Or maybe that was just my daughters.
Whatever. I loved it. Loved Rebel and her willingness to send herself up. Loved the unexpected face-aching mirth that shakes your whole body and still makes you giggle hours later. You know what I didn’t think? “Mmm, that Wilson is getting a bit long in the tooth to play a loved-up teen opposite Adam Devine.” Didn’t enter my head. Here was one of the world’s best comic actresses bringing it. In Lycra and a noxious turquoise polyester blouse.
Which is why I don’t give a rat’s about how old Rebel Wilson actually is, whether she lied about her age or whether she simply failed to correct an article which said she was 29 when she was actually 35.
Rather, what infuriates me is the presumption that women lie or fudge or refuse to give their age because they’re vain or duplicitous or ashamed of getting older. Most don’t care about the number and any lack of transparency is a consequence of the stinking stereotyping and downright discrimination they face every day because society and, specifically, workplaces can’t get their head round older women. Every woman I know who whispers rather than broadcasts her age does so for one reason: she wants to keep her job for as long as she can. As one woman in her mid-50s told me: “Post fertility represents post importance and clout. I don’t need to stay younger, but I do need to be seen as relevant.”
Wilson seemed to be saying as much in her defamation trial at the Victorian Supreme Court this week. Contesting the claim she’s a serial liar because she’s not comfortable disclosing her age, the actress told the court: “There was mystery concerning my age and that suited me.”
I hope she doesn’t mind me telling this story but The Today Show host Lisa Wilkinson once asked me not to include her age in an article. It was seven years ago and she was 50 at the time. It wasn’t that she minded being 50, she explained, but that her co-host Karl Stefanovic was 15 years her junior and she didn’t want audiences to think they were mismatched. Years on I note she happily states her age and therein lies another truth: sometimes women experience age sensitivity for only a short period — because they’re in a new role or trying to secure a job or edging for a promotion.
While both men and women face age discrimination — new research from the University of South Australia reports it occurs as early as 45 — international findings suggest it’s worse for women. America’s National Bureau of Economic Research found resumes of older women received far fewer call-backs than those of older men and of younger applicants of either gender. What’s more, the authors believe it comes down to looks.
“Older women may in fact experience more discrimination than older men,” they argued, “because physical appearance matters more for women and because age detracts more from physical appearance for women than for men.”
It’s a brutal truth that flies in the face of the “Helen Mirren Factor” — the perennial example wheeled out whenever evidence is needed that women don’t face age discrimination. “Yes, but look at Helen Mirren — age hasn’t held her back,” says anyone unwilling to face the facts. Such comments make me irate. “YES, I AM LOOKING AT HELEN MIRREN BECAUSE SHE’S THE ONLY BLOODY EXAMPLE YOU CAN FIND AND THUS THE ONLY ONE TO LOOK AT.”
The truth is for every Mirren — and let’s throw in Judi Dench as well — there’s hundreds of thousands of Colleens and Sandras and Dianes who are 55 or 60 or 65, who are unemployed or underemployed and face plummeting self-esteem and superannuation as a result. Yet the uncertainty is being felt even younger. I know two women in their early 50s — one a TV executive and another an IT boss — who have Botox for the sole reason they lead young teams. “I resent spending $700 a quarter on it, but I need to look as youthful as possible,” says one.
The alternate response is to be bold, honest and laugh at the nonsense that accompanies advancing years such as the phrases “antiageing” — anti as in you’re not supposed to like it? And “good for her age”. What, so mature women can never be beautiful? The most they can hope for is best in class, never best in show?
I admire women who wear their age like a badge, but they’re often financially secure with their own businesses or a high-earning partner. So will I be writing about turning 50 when that landmark birthday occurs? Who knows. I may take the Wilson approach and let my work, not my age, do the talking.