There’s a New Gang in Town — Nora Snowdon blog

In case anyone in the northern hemisphere hasn’t heard, I turned fifty-two this year. Whoo-hoo! Hurrah! And all that stuff. One can get a little bored with aging as it never really let’s up. But being in your fifties brings with it a whole new concept. Aging as a means to blend in with the scenery.

Now originally I was perturbed to find over the last ten years (it probably started earlier, but I’m never too quick on the introspection stuff) that I disappeared. Literally. It wasn’t like Claude Raines where only my clothes delineated my presence. No, instead I found in circumstances where before there would be obvious sounds and movements indicating when I entered or left an area, now there was simply a dearth of reactions. No whistles, catcalls or even casual head-turns heralded my previously celebrated walk past construction sites or Italian Cafés.

When I was younger I used to hate the attention I got just for being female. I didn’t dress provocatively, wear much make-up, and in the mid-seventies often forgot to even brush my hair, much to my mother’s chagrin. As a feminist, it irked me that I was viewed first and foremost in sexual terms. And, to be honest, I still hold those views. I still dislike being ogled by eighty-year old men with bad eyesight. (I’m assuming the ones possessing the 20/20 vision are still ogling twenty-year olds. Such is the incredibly obtuse optimism of the male species…)

I’ve discovered though, that with invisibility comes freedom. I can wear bright red lipstick and shiny clothes without worrying I look promiscuous. (no longer considered, as apparently us older ladies don’t “do” that sex thing.) Ditto with the new stiletto heels I tottered on precariously to a party recently. I’m just happily slipping into that eccentric older aunt character once so beloved on family sitcoms.

But there is also an evil side of fifty plus of which I had been previously unaware. For some reason there’s a group of women over fifty who want to take our newfound invisibility cloak and turn it into a secret army. You know what I’m talking about. You see them everywhere. The legion of faceless women sporting extravagant red hats, mulling through any large group of people. It’s a force that’s gaining power with every birthday. These women must be planning some nefarious plot to take over the world. Otherwise why would they submit to hiding their own personalities to blend into one homogenous group of similarly attired females?

My own plan is to keep an eye on this cavalcade of crimson, and if at any point they seem poised to annihilate or subjugate all others, I’ll don a red hat. But until then, I’ll stick with my own ways of celebrating my yearly deterioration. Another drink, perhaps?

Nora Snowdon is a Romance Writer, Collagist, and Aspiring Crazy Cat Lady. To read more about Nora, please visit

Her book Arsonists Anonymous, a paranormal romance from Crimson Romance is available now where all fine e-books are sold.

Her second book from Crimson Romance, The Spanish Acquisition will be available Dec 10, 2012


  1. Nora – I’ll join a group here in St. Louis and be an undercover spy and report back. Lynn

  2. I always figured it was the light bouncing off my white hair that blinded people to my existence. But my theory on taking over the world is a little different. I think women over a certain age and kids should band together, form some sort of Army of the Ignored. By the time the folks in charge now figured it out, we’d be running everything and they wouldn’t know what hit them.

  3. LOL, Nora. Love this post. I turned fifty-one this past July, so I feel you, sweetie. I’m thinking there should be some kind of happy medium between unwanted, offensive advances and not-even-a-blip-on-the-male-radar. Is that too much to ask? 🙂

  4. You are a dark horse Ms. Snowdon and anonymity helps!
    Great blog!

  5. Well, I’m *cough* years older than you ladies and I’ve got to say this is the best time of my life–okay, the days I got married & had my babies were really great, too. Aging is part of life and, to quote my fil, it beats the alternative. I agree with Peggy abt women of a certain age banding together with the young. It seems as if middle-aged men think they know what’s best for us and it’s time we showed them we can handle our own destiny.

    • thanks ladies for all your comments. i am actually enjoying getting older. when i was young i was too concerned with making sure other people liked me. now i know the important thing is, do i like them?

  6. I hear you, I hear you! I lost quite a bit of weight several years ago (and boy was it hard), but now that I actually don’t mind looking at myself, no one cares…least of all me! 🙂 Sign me up for the Army of the Ignored!

  7. Ignored? Nah, that’s just your preference. Age means choice, so we can celebrate that But it could be different if you wanted. My 70 year-old aunt turns heads (in a good way) when she walks by men. She’ll also trounce them verbally if they annoy her in any way. She’s a formidable lady who chooses not to be ignored.

  8. Fun post, Nora. Best of luck with Arsonists Anonymous! The mode of murder in my book is arson. I am one of the few Crimson books with no flames. lol
    R.T. Wolfe
    Black Creek Burning (Crimson Romance, 2012)

  9. Arriving a day late but wanted to say: With your smarts and humour you will always be the life of the party, Nora! And that’s something that age can’t give a person. Congratulations on The Spanish Acquisition hitting the e-world soon!

  10. Great post, Nora. I’m in the same camp. Still not sure how I feel about it though. Aging is a complicated business with far-reaching consequences and I want to make sure I do it properly. And as you mentioned, it never really lets up. My mother had six sisters, and I find my self reflecting back on their various “styles” of aging and wondering which way would be best for me. I believe we do have choices.

  11. My closest friend has this same complaint:she spent her youth feeling uncomfortable with male attention, and downplayed her looks. Now she’s over 50, newly single, and feels unappreciated by the right kind of man. However, she’s been approached by numerous younger men – many younger than her 30 year old son – who are looking for a cougar!

    I’m enjoying my age. My I.Q. is above average, but when I was young, nobody took me seriously. Now I’m the ‘Voice of Experience’ and find my words have greater weight. And I was born a red-head, which isn’t as great as it sounds. Now my hair is silver, and I can wear purple without clashing. I got really tired of jokes like “Is it red all over?”, and I think the silver is really pretty. I also like being able to cut it short, instead of catering to the men in my life by growing it long.

    Personally, I have no intention of ever wearing a red hat. I like my gray hair too much to cover it up. Thanks for a good laugh.

  12. With age comes complexity, maturity, and a rich,earthy appreciation of life. Women are like fine wine. You can slam the young ones – they provide a good buzz, but the content, the quality, and pure enjoyment of something more robust, layered, and . . . rounded on the tongue is well worth the aging process and certainly a cause for celebration. That’s where substance really stands out. Now light some candles my dear, put them around the tub, pop a cork of your favorite vino, and slip into a wonderful love story. It’s time to appreciate all the moments. These years belong to you now. Indulge yourself.

  13. You go, girl. I had never thought of the red hats that way, but you are so right. Skip the hat, keep the lipstick.

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