July 2009: Warrior Women

Alphabet T There is a new breed of women emerging in the political vacuum left by the weakness of the Government coupled with the gut-wrenching scandal of MPs' expenses. Step forward the warrior women

Emma SoamesEmma Soames

Led by Generalissima Joanna Lumley, who so marvellously forced the Government into a complete reversal of its policy on the Gurkhas, feisty, effective and mostly older women are now popping up all over the public arena. For example, Esther Rantzen captured the public mood when she threatened to run as an Independent candidate in Luton South if Margaret Moran had not announced she would stand down at the next General Election.

Rantzen also put up a very creditable performance at media Sandhurst (Question Time) a few months ago. She proves that warrior women don’t have to be charming – although it helps (viz the Generalissima, who had the Government drooling at her feet even as she kicked them into total submission).

I doubt whether Joanna Lumley would have had the cojones to enter the political arena when she was younger. Younger women, of course, can be warriors too, but they are likely to be held back by a combination of ambition in their own careers, lack of confidence and different priorities – many of them biological, as they are driven first to find a father for their children and then to rear those children.

As we get older many of these biological phenomena drop away, along with minor insecurities – indeed, losing these is what defines maturity. What we’re left with is the big issues, such as: can we change the world?

Pleased as I am that older women have replaced those pointless WAGs as a fashionable breed, it must also be said that by their actions shall we know them. For instance, the new president of the CBI, Helen Alexander, 52 and former boss of the Economist Group, should be one.

Although perfectly poised, she will not join the warrior ranks until she rolls up her sleeves and achieves a breakthrough of attitudes among the toughened old hides that the CBI represents.

This may be almost as difficult as getting the Labour Government to change its policy towards the Gurkhas but a warrior needs scalps on her belt. And where is the woman who is going to finally persuade television to change its attitude to regularly employing older women?

It will take a warrior clad in Chanel armour to break down the prejudices that reign in that world.

I have achieved a breakthrough at the beauty counter. I have found that as I get older it gets ever more difficult to find a foundation for the face that does the increasing number of tricks I demand of it without clagging, clogging, or disappearing before lunchtime.

I have worked my way around all the Boots counters and finally graduated to Harvey Nichols where I reluctantly approached the counter selling La Prairie. Happiness at last!

Their Protective Anti-Aging cellular Foundation SPF15 is sensational. You don’t have to mess around with sponges or brushes, you just rub it in with your fingers and bingo – at last I look ready to face the enemy. And the compliments are coming thick and fast. My conclusion to this experience is that we need to spend our age at the beauty counters. This product cost me a shameful £56 but hey, it works.

I never thought I would become addicted to the boxed set, but it’s happened. I long now to get the flu – the nice one that puts you on the sofa for three days – so that I can finish series 2 of The Wire and allow myself to graduate to The West Wing that so many of my friends are galloping through right now.

Before I would have considered love of a boxed set to be a symptom of a terrible social life, but everywhere I go I find people rushing home early to run another episode before turning in.

This is the summer of the decade-breaking party. So far I have been to two fabulous celebrations that have knocked parties with fewer decades to their name into a wet party hat.

A dinner and dance to celebrate a 50th birthday held beside a swimming pool near Henley with music by an Abba tribute band was one of the happiest parties I’ve been to in ages. As was a rather more high-minded opera recital followed by dinner in a yurt in South Wales to celebrate a 70th birthday.

I have been picking up tips for my own decade-breaking bash which takes place – also by a pool – in a few weeks’ time. I’m a girl who does rather like to worry about what to wear – and to spend on a solution – but this sartorial challenge is proving to be a real Everest.

When the day comes, I shall let you know the outcome. Will it be the gold jacket or the blue sequin leggings?

First published in the July 2009 edition of Saga Magazine

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