Women Horror Month: Old Girls Gone Wild
As Women in Horror Month rolls on I continue to be ludicrously excited, even more excited than the time I was in a café tucking into an all-day breakfast and The Chuckle Brothers and seven dwarfs came in for teacakes. Excited? I nearly wet myself. For this week’s contemplation of the awesomeness of womankind I thought we’d cast a little joy onto one of the less fun parts of being a girl; the ageing process. So, come on ladies, let’s chuck away the Oil of Olay (or whatever it’s calling itself these days) and revel in the bits of us that aren’t as perky as once they might have been. As I’m knocking on a bit (or, as it feels to me, galloping towards menopause with a speed and momentum that is quite frankly terrifying, and also patently ridiculous as I didn’t agree to anything past 30 and certainly didn’t sign anything so somebody somewhere has clearly got the wrong memo) I find myself increasingly required to imagine what style of old lady I’m going to be. While I’m reluctantly awar...