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Tuesday, 4 August 2009
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Sunday, 2 August 2009
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Saturday, 1 August 2009
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Thursday, 7 June 2007
Corinne Sweet: The truth about older mothers
The media image is a Teflon-coated bitch who wants to buy a baby like a Marc Jacobs bag
Published: 07 June 2007
I was "lucky" enough to have a baby after the age of 40 - albeit by Caesarian. So I can thoroughly understand the 40-plus women's desperate urge to surge towards fertility clinics for IVF treatment that has been reported this week. Although I didn't get as far as IVF, because I was fortunate enough to conceive "naturally", I can recognise the drive to put oneself through enormous expense and discomfort in the hope of "getting one in before closing time".
The media image of the older mother is a Teflon-coated Apprentice-style bitch who wants it all on her own terms, and who would like to buy a baby like a Marc Jacobs handbag and then strap it into her Chelsea tractor and whoosh off to Harvey Nicks.
In my experience, the women who try for babies late, and who go through the gruelling IVF hoops, are those who realise that their lives will probably feel incomplete if they don't at least try to have a baby. One woman I interviewed for my book on late motherhood had spent years doubled up with endometriosis. After being told that she would never conceive, her first and only round of IVF failed, leaving her broke and hopeless at 41. She'd married late and knew that having a baby was a distant dream. But the stimulation of her ovaries led to her conceiving naturally and having a healthy child at 42. Taking the risk totally turned her own, and her new husband's, life around.
Let's get one thing straight: women over 40 don't "forget" to have children (as per the famous postcard "I can't believe I forgot to have children"); nor are they so career-obsessed that they blot babies out completely. The issues are more complex.
Few women find the right parental partner straight away. Mr Right is as elusive as Bridget Jones in a thong. Most of us kiss a helluva lot of frogs only to find they fail to turn into princes. Late babies can often be the deliberate product of furtive one-night stands, sex with an ex, or a mercy shag with a willing friend.
Also, as we've become more picky about partners, and as emotionally literate single men are as rare as purple pears, parenthood may well only be possible once an emotionally healthy relationship develops - after 40. The longed-for baby becomes the icing on the late wedding cake, perhaps with a partner who has children in tow from a first, even second, relationship.
Or, as gay and lesbian marriages are now possible, it might be a baby is sought by a homosexual couple to seal their relationship. IVF might well replace the turkey baster for many lesbians who have, in the past, had to conceive furtively through the generosity of male friends.
Delaying babies until later in life is psychologically sound for many of us who simply weren't "ready" before. We have a notion of being psychologically prepared for parenthood, by which we mean not as crazy or selfish as we were in our twenties, even thirties. Our parents and grandparents had kids as a matter of course. For us, it's a definite decision - maybe made after years on the couch.
We ask ourselves: "Am I ready for parenthood?" It means, can I make the necessary emotional (and financial) sacrifices needed to have a child? Can I put them first? By 40, most of us are partied out. Not all, but most.
Older parents make good parents. Research by Dr Julia Berryman of the University of Leicester Parenthood Research Group, and others, show that late parents are often more tolerant, patient, kind and, most important, loving. Simply, a late child is often a very, very wanted child.
So how is it for the children? Are older parents an embarrassment? Or do children of late parents get a good deal? Again, research shows these children score well in comprehension and reading tests, and are generally more emotionally secure and confident. The early demise of late parents is not all bad, either, especially if a child of 40-plus parents has had a good 40 years of solid, loving input. Plus, they won't have to look after their own Aged Ps well into their own old age and should reap the benefits of any inheritance in their sprightly middle age.
The notion that droves of career women are frivolously delaying pregnancy until 40 and then hoping to drain the NHS of vital resources for a designer baby is a misogynistic myth. Most women worth their Top Shop wedges know that leaving it late holds serious risks. After all, only around 2 per cent of first births are to women fortyplus.
The biggest problem is the pernicious influence of the cult of celebrity which makes lesser mortals want to emulate the likes of Madonna or Angelina. These role models make young women think fame and money will buy anything - including children.
However, for real women, with real lives, and real limits on budget, energy and resources, having a late baby via IVF is not simply a fashionistic whim. It's a calculated risk, taken under the din of the ruthless biological clock, usually after a great deal of life-planning, soul-searching - and a fatalistic sense of better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all.
Corinne Sweet is a writer, broadcaster and psychologist, and the author of 'Birth Begins at Forty'
Monday, 4 June 2007
Forget that handbag and set yourself free
Canny businesses tap ordinary people's insecurity. Women are image victims once again
by Yasmin Alibhai BrownPublished: 04 June 2007
Today I take you into the tricky world of handbags. Most men who arenot thieves fear the dark insides of our bags. Ask them to get keys orcoins and they go in as if an alert Black Widow spider is lurking atthe bottom. They can't understand why we need these adult satchels, andso suspect the worst. This week the poor things must have been evenmore baffled to witness the two estimable female candidates forLabour's deputy leadership duelling over handbags.
You just don't get it, chaps. This thing we carry is loaded withserious meaning. Mrs Thatcher held her bags tight on the inside of heriron elbow. The incident of his dog chewing on the £2,000 bag belongingto Kimberley Quinn encapsulated the foolishness of Blunkett's obsessiveaffair. It revealed the dynamics of class inequality, exposed themanipulative yet dim rich and the envious face of Blair's Labour partydesperately seeking brassy, toff playmates. In today's Britain,handbags have become potent symbols of politics, power, economics,social mobility, pre-feminist proclivities or post-feminist libertiesor the death of feminism, ethical living, advanced capitalism, the ebbof socialism and possibly the end of history.
Hazel Blears owns what I am told is an Orla Kiely handbag, costing£250. It is a designer name I don't recognise, not being an aficionado.I could imagine Ms Blears buying Swiss army knives and Rosa Klebbshoes, but not, to be honest, softly voluptuous gear. Harriet Harmanwho always looks nice, averred righteously that she would never buy anaccessory costing more than £50 and criticised our divided society'where some people struggle and others spend £10,000 on a handbag'.
Sharp ripostes were returned by the diminutive and unbending MsBlears. Politicians had no right to tell people how to spend theirmoney, she scolded, adding that the party should never again weartank-tops and flares and needs to give people a 'platform foropportunity not a cap on aspiration'. I know, I know, I am,caricaturing Blears. But I am a Harmanite on this war of the bags. Andmillions of other women voters are Blearsites.
Ruth from Buckinghamshire, for one, who writes with much convictionon the matter, in an exchange on the net: 'I work hard to earn my moneyso if I want to blow an entire months [sic] wages on a handbag thenthat's up to me. I have no problem spending £500 on a handbag, its make[sic] me feel good to walk down the street with it. If you want to becheap with your plastic then so be it.'
Thus spake an aspirational babe on the nirvana of choice. How do youblow an entire month's wages without borrowing beyond your means? Thesewomen walk more proud because they are holding exorbitantly pricedcarriers made from cow skins, a cheap and ubiquitous material turnedinto gold by canny businesses who know exactly how to tap into theinsecurities of ordinary people seeking affirmation and the over-richwho have to find endless ways to unload their piles.
One day great leather handbags cost between £35 and £60, thensuddenly even the cheapest high street shops had hiked up the prices.And the trade roared as the herds rushed to purchase carry-outself-esteem. Today there are bags on the market costing £80,000. Ifthis is aspiration, no thanks.
I do have some high-label clothes - bought cut-price in sales andoutlets. Most of my best clothes are inexpensive. We were invited byfriends to Glyndebourne this Saturday, the temple of couture as well asmusic. I wore a lacy skirt (£12), a beautiful, amber 18th-century-stylebodice (£14 in a sale), and an even cheaper bolero. Two grand ladiesadmired the bodice, and I was pleased to tell them the cost. Real stylenever slavishly succumbs to diktats. Post-feminism has made women imagevictims again, confident only when they have, not for what they are. Tofree yourself from the fashion hounds is to free yourself from others,too, who would control you. Like Ms Blears.
Harman's concern about inequality adds moral weight to the revulsionrising against designer-bag shopaholism. More money is swilling aroundin Britain than ever. Ours is well on the way to becoming a suspicious,uncaring and dysfunctional society. Our modern over-rich do not turninto philanthropists as many do in the United States. They buy, buy,buy bleeding handbags, never unzipped to bring out two pounds for a BigIssue.
Next month the fashion changes and more will rush to buy moreleather, ending in bag mountains to fill in the sites of socialdemocracy and political engagement. We can carry on with such bingeconsumption or step towards a saner, equitable future. The battle ofthe handbags is about that crucial decision.
You just don't get it, chaps. This thing we carry is loaded withserious meaning. Mrs Thatcher held her bags tight on the inside of heriron elbow. The incident of his dog chewing on the £2,000 bag belongingto Kimberley Quinn encapsulated the foolishness of Blunkett's obsessiveaffair. It revealed the dynamics of class inequality, exposed themanipulative yet dim rich and the envious face of Blair's Labour partydesperately seeking brassy, toff playmates. In today's Britain,handbags have become potent symbols of politics, power, economics,social mobility, pre-feminist proclivities or post-feminist libertiesor the death of feminism, ethical living, advanced capitalism, the ebbof socialism and possibly the end of history.
Hazel Blears owns what I am told is an Orla Kiely handbag, costing£250. It is a designer name I don't recognise, not being an aficionado.I could imagine Ms Blears buying Swiss army knives and Rosa Klebbshoes, but not, to be honest, softly voluptuous gear. Harriet Harmanwho always looks nice, averred righteously that she would never buy anaccessory costing more than £50 and criticised our divided society'where some people struggle and others spend £10,000 on a handbag'.
Sharp ripostes were returned by the diminutive and unbending MsBlears. Politicians had no right to tell people how to spend theirmoney, she scolded, adding that the party should never again weartank-tops and flares and needs to give people a 'platform foropportunity not a cap on aspiration'. I know, I know, I am,caricaturing Blears. But I am a Harmanite on this war of the bags. Andmillions of other women voters are Blearsites.
Ruth from Buckinghamshire, for one, who writes with much convictionon the matter, in an exchange on the net: 'I work hard to earn my moneyso if I want to blow an entire months [sic] wages on a handbag thenthat's up to me. I have no problem spending £500 on a handbag, its make[sic] me feel good to walk down the street with it. If you want to becheap with your plastic then so be it.'
Thus spake an aspirational babe on the nirvana of choice. How do youblow an entire month's wages without borrowing beyond your means? Thesewomen walk more proud because they are holding exorbitantly pricedcarriers made from cow skins, a cheap and ubiquitous material turnedinto gold by canny businesses who know exactly how to tap into theinsecurities of ordinary people seeking affirmation and the over-richwho have to find endless ways to unload their piles.
One day great leather handbags cost between £35 and £60, thensuddenly even the cheapest high street shops had hiked up the prices.And the trade roared as the herds rushed to purchase carry-outself-esteem. Today there are bags on the market costing £80,000. Ifthis is aspiration, no thanks.
I do have some high-label clothes - bought cut-price in sales andoutlets. Most of my best clothes are inexpensive. We were invited byfriends to Glyndebourne this Saturday, the temple of couture as well asmusic. I wore a lacy skirt (£12), a beautiful, amber 18th-century-stylebodice (£14 in a sale), and an even cheaper bolero. Two grand ladiesadmired the bodice, and I was pleased to tell them the cost. Real stylenever slavishly succumbs to diktats. Post-feminism has made women imagevictims again, confident only when they have, not for what they are. Tofree yourself from the fashion hounds is to free yourself from others,too, who would control you. Like Ms Blears.
Harman's concern about inequality adds moral weight to the revulsionrising against designer-bag shopaholism. More money is swilling aroundin Britain than ever. Ours is well on the way to becoming a suspicious,uncaring and dysfunctional society. Our modern over-rich do not turninto philanthropists as many do in the United States. They buy, buy,buy bleeding handbags, never unzipped to bring out two pounds for a BigIssue.
Next month the fashion changes and more will rush to buy moreleather, ending in bag mountains to fill in the sites of socialdemocracy and political engagement. We can carry on with such bingeconsumption or step towards a saner, equitable future. The battle ofthe handbags is about that crucial decision.
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