‘Tis the season where people make oft-ridiculous commitments to self-improvement. Yes, I’m talking about the good old new year resolutions. I can see people left, right, and centre vowing to do more gym, eat better, do Dry January – you know the drill. I’ve decided to take a different tack this year. I don’t know about anyone else, but my 2024 has been a bit shit. More than a bit. So instead of heaping yet more pressure on myself to be better, and do better, I’m going to head in the opposite direction. It’s time for the fuck-it list.

I think we’re all big enough and ugly enough now to let go of the concept that having juvenile fun in your middle years is a bad idea

We talk a lot about the midlife ‘coming of age’ here at Silver. Those wonderful, pivotal moments that grace your middle age that used to be called a midlife crisis. I think we’re all big enough and ugly enough now to let go of the concept that having juvenile fun in your middle years is a bad idea. Actually, it’s the best time of your life, in many ways.

Many of the items on the fuck-it list come with the wisdom that age brings you. The joy of letting stuff go. Of not giving a monkey’s what people think of you; living in a permanent state of ‘wearing purple’, if you will.

I’ve been doing a lot of these things already, really. But for posterity, and perhaps to inspire other readers to go “fuck it, I’m not doing that anymore either,” here’s my list.

Dry January

Straight into the sea with this. As if January wasn’t grim enough already.

Not listening to my gut

Ooo a couple of times this year I’ve ignored my gut – one of which was an EXTRAORDINARY tale, which I’ll tell separately another time. But I should have known better, on both counts. I knew what was going on didn’t feel right. Less impulsivity and more listening to my gut instinct.

Poncy food, poor food, stupid diets

Pub Sunday roasts. They genuinely are NEVER as good as the homemade ones. Also restaurants with tiny portions, foams or whispers of things. Didn’t we have enough of this nonsense in the ’80s? No wonder people do cocaine at restaurants. They’d be starving otherwise.

Also faddy diets, which see a lot of action in January. I mean, I’d like to be less fat, but I do also love to eat and drink. So as long as my health isn’t too shabby, let’s eat, drink, and be merry. Especially in January.

Endless TV shows or series

Good grief, Dr Who. I watched the very underwhelming Christmas special and was appalled by its mediocrity. It’s not even scary anymore. Well, not in the way I was hoping for. Also box sets, or really long things – I just never finish them, so I should probably stop trying. Breaking Bad; saw about three episodes. Ripley with Andrew Scott; I literally thought I was going to die of boredom. And I LOVE Andrew Scott. AND Highsmith.

Chasing material things

I never had myself down as someone who was bothered about money, but it turns out I am. I like nice things, and I like to be successful. But over the past few years, the pursuit of these things hasn’t always made me wildly happy – or healthy. If I’m making any kind of resolution this year, it’s to start doing more of the stuff I love, and less of the stuff that is just a means to an end.

I’m not as financially rich as I’d like, but there are more important things in life. I’ve learned that the hard way over the past few years, as people who I loved deeply have died. None of that material stuff matters. It really doesn’t. That thing you hear about people on their deathbeds never saying they wished they’d worked harder? Yeah.

Settling

Settling on work I don’t want to do, giving in to clients’ demands, settling on dates, agreeing to things I don’t like or don’t want. For someone with a big opinion of herself, I can be a terrible people pleaser. I’ve noticed it’s worst when I’m feeling low, so. Keeping an eye out for that.

Letting PRs overrun my inbox

A job-specific fuck-it here, but one I suspect many other editors and journalists will relate to. Blocking/unsubscribing from lazy ‘spray and pray’ PRs who send me press releases that aren’t relevant. Or those who ‘circle back’ the same fucking release to bump it to the top of my inbox, often more than once. If it was interesting in the first place, we’d have picked it up. Leave me the hell alone. My inbox gives me way too much anxiety and this is a big part of the problem.

Heels, bras, tight clothing, things I want to rip off my body in a rage

I’m absolutely done with this shit. I don’t think this is even an ageing thing – we all got used to working in our pyjamas over lockdown, right? I don’t want to wear proper clothes ever again. I’ve also got piles of clothes I never wear – jeans from the ’90s I’ll never get into again, skimpy tops that would show more underboob than midriff these days…

Heels have mentally been the hardest thing to say goodbye to, and I love the way they make my legs look. But I’m so out of practice wearing them, it’s TORTURE to put them on for any length of time. So off with tight things, pinchy things, anything that makes me itch, or struggle to breathe, or walk, hurts my knees or back, makes me end up with red creases in my skin, or blisters… really when you say it like that, it sounds utterly insane, doesn’t it.

Letting stuff go

Life is short, and this is an ongoing practice for me, but more letting go of ‘stuff’. Including the grief around what I might have achieved if I’d had an earlier ADHD diagnosis. That’s been a biggie.

Also in this bracket is forgiving people who have wronged me, without expecting the same in return. The freedom that forgiveness brings is utterly lifechanging. I don’t really hold grudges, but it’s hard not to feel aggrieved about some things that happened in the past. I’m choosing to let those go.

And in the spirit of letting go of things that I feel bad about myself, I’m making amends where I can. I’m also forgiving myself for stupid shit I’ve done in the past. That was then, and this is now. Fuck looking backwards.

Fuck Facebook, and fuck the news on social media

Having looked at the amount of time I spent on it on a daily basis, I’ve deleted the Facebook app off my phone. The fact that I felt uncomfortable doing that, like a junky, tells me all I need to know. Social media generally is also the hotbed for comparison, which truly is the thief of joy. I compare myself and my work with others, and it steals all my joy, makes me feel useless and unsuccessful. Enough of that.

As for the news – I like to know what’s going on in the world, but the endless ‘news’ in social feeds absolutely clutters my head, and makes me depressed a lot of the time. So, a much more measured approach to all this for me this year.

Apologising for who I am

Or diminishing my own worth. Trying to fit in, or be something that I’m not. I do a fair bit of masking, as someone with ADHD, and I’m fed up with it. It’s exhausting trying to be ‘normal’. I’ve found that if I’m honest with my friends, they’re absolutely fine with the person I really am. As the saying goes, ‘those that mind don’t matter, and those that matter don’t mind.’ Take me with my quirks and all.

Going out in the evening

I absolutely LOVE a daytime adventure – lunches, outings, seeing friends. But I like to take to my boudoir early these days, and evening events are taxing. Jamie Lee Curtis, calling out for daytime gigs and parties, once said, “Nothing good happens for me after 9pm” and I hear that. I used to like starting my nights around then, but these days I like them to finish right about there. Then I can get a good night’s kip, sleep off the booze, and come up smiling in the morning.

Dating apps

‘Nuff said. I look occasionally, and am terminally depressed by them. Not going to look anymore, la la la etc.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post My f*ck-it list for 2025 appeared first on Silver Magazine.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a film so hotly promoted and touted as the new Barbie Movie. I’m not sure when Barbie stopped being non-PC and became cool again, and frankly that’s a whole another article. But faced with all this doll talk, I can’t have been the only one left wondering what happened to Sindy.

This weekend has seen the convention, DollyCon, an annual event in Lincoln, where there has been a special announcement about the plans for Sindy’s 60th. It was a good place to announce Sindy plans – surrounded by cos-playing doll fans all out to celebrate. But more about that later, I’m getting ahead of myself.

While the world turns a ghastly shade of pink, and grown adults are going barmy on the banquettes for Barbie, let me introduce you properly to Sindy. Buckle up; it’s quite the ride.

1963, Exeter

Pedigree Dolls & Toys, a 20-year-old business based in the west country, is considering launching a British fashion doll. The business is approached by Mattel to license Barbie in the UK, but decides against this, based on market research showing that the British market doesn’t relate to Barbie. Pedigree instead decides to make its own doll. Enter Sindy, five years after Barbie’s US launch.

At this first outing, Pedigree gets everything spot on, and they’re right about the audience reaction. They engage in market research. They develop a doll that is different, not the same. A doll that is carefully created for the British market, with a more realistic figure and face. And she’s a hit.

Sindy launched in September of 1963. Marketeers dispatched her to retail outlets with an actual 45rpm single introducing the doll. Very innovative, very modern. The marketing blurb that went out with the record included the description:

Sindy is the free, swinging girl that every little girl longs to be. Sindy has sports clothes, glamour clothes, everyday clothes — a dog, skates, a gramophone — everything… Every genuine Sindy outfit is a child’s dream come true. Each one is designed for today’s fashionable young women by today’s leading women designers. They are authentic miniature replicas of the latest adult clothes.

So far, so good. And Sindy’s more wholesome appearance was a success. The swinging 60s was her heyday, and everything looked rosy for her future.

L-R: 1963 Dream Date illustration, 1963 Dream Date doll, 1963 illustration

Then came the ‘70s

Pedigree dropped the ball. They failed to keep abreast with cultural attitudes, executing little-to-no market research or advertising, and Sindy sales fell. Children began to relate less to her ‘girl next door’ looks. And here we start to see the first of what would be a number of questionable business decisions.

In 1978 Marx Toys licenced Sindy to sell her in the US, but the business ended up in receivership. The doll, whilst still relatively acceptable to British audiences, was poorly received over the pond, and the license returned to Pedigree. Sindy was withdrawn from the US market.

Move forward to the ‘80s

New marketing director David Brown engaged in a new promotional and development assault, consulting with fashion designers and the doll market, and a new range of Sindy dolls, friends, and outfits was launched. These outfits even included a range of designer dresses by the Emmanuels. In 1985 alone, the ad budget was £1.5million (equal to £4.5million today).

Things started to pick up. Then in 1986, Pedigree again sold the rights to Sindy, this time to US toy giant Hasbro. Hasbro remodelled Sindy to look more American. Designers created an innovative Sindy doll using new technology that made her hair change colour in the water. The then senior design lead, Jane Braithwaite, travelled regularly to Paris to keep abreast with fashion trends and collections. Things looked so rosy that the following year, Sindy’s product manager Edward Machin announced that Sindy would claim the lead over Barbie within two years.

L-R: 1985, 1992, 1985

Moving into Europe

As part of this plan to conquer the world, in the early 90s, Hasbro invested sizeable capital to bring Sindy to the European market. New friends and accessories were added. A dog, a black friend called Imani, the ability to ‘swim’ – these were all seen as exciting modern developments that would enable Sindy to corner the market and capture children’s hearts.

Sadly, this was not to be the case. In 1997, Hasbro withdrew among rumours and reports that major retailers were planning to delist Sindy and her mates. The writing had been on the wall for some time. Sindy’s market share in 1994 levelled at some 7 per cent, with Barbie enjoying 16 per cent. By 1996, just two years later, Barbie’s share of the doll market had risen to 30 per cent, with Sindy trailing at 8 per cent.

The Americanisation – and therefore the individuality of Sindy’s look – was blamed, pitting the dolls against each other in the same ring as opposed to celebrating their differences. Sindy’s sales were also hit by huge competition in the shape of Polly Pocket.

See: Sindy at 60, by AI

Sindy’s new millennium

Back she came to Pedigree, who then licenced the production out to British toy manufacturer, Vivid Imaginations, and in 1999 both Sindy and Barbie underwent a revamp and relaunch. Sindy was given a new, younger look and feel, with Vivid describing her as having “new themes, new friends and a new family, fitting today’s environment and in tune with the street-cred concerns of today’s young girls.” Barbie at this time held 75 per cent of the doll market in the UK. You’ve got to admire Pedigree for keeping on, haven’t you.

Compared to the previous decades, she was “unrecognisable”, according to her own designer at the time, Denise Deane. A good thing? Hard to tell.

By 2003 yet another toy manufacturer had taken Sindy on, New Moons, where she was given a substantial makeover. The redesign and repositioning included changing Sindy’s shape, making her younger and more innocent-looking. Compared to the previous decades, she was “unrecognisable”, according to her own designer at the time, Denise Deane. A good thing? Hard to tell.

Through the next decade, more redesigns and relaunches took place, targeting younger children whose mothers wanted a more innocent doll, when faced with the alarmingly glamorous Bratz. Her boobs underwent a reduction. You could buy different sized Sindys. There were retailer and supermarket exclusives. Whatever Sindy had been created to be, by the time 2013 rolled around, you could reasonably argue that nobody really knew who or what she was anymore.

In 2018 Tonner Doll Company took on Sindy’s design and manufacture. Then in 2020 the licence went to Kid Kreations, which has made the most recent incarnation of the Sindy dolls. But again, with a new theme, and new look. After decades of variable continuity, is it any wonder that Sindy has struggled to find her niche?

Kid Kreations collection 2020

So what has happened to Sindy?

I started writing this article a few weeks ago, ahead of the Barbie Movie. I was fully planning to publish it around the time the film launched. It seemed like a good time to explore what had happened to Sindy, and so I started to dig around.

The Sindy websites were sketchy, without much information and packed with broken links. Nobody replied to me when I filled out the contact form. And the phone rang out when I tried to call Pedigree. I found an email address on the Sindy Facebook page, and hit a hello, getting an autoresponder back. I started to wonder if Sindy was even a thing anymore. And if she is a thing, what sort of thing?

If you’ve made it this far, well done. Stick with me; I promise it does get better, sort of.

Back on the trail…

I didn’t realise until later that the Matt in the autoresponder email I got was actually the Pedigree owner and MD, Matthew Reynolds. It seemed extraordinary to me, to be on holiday at such a huge time for dolls. Where Mattel had done an exhausting job of pinkwashing just about everything in the whole world ahead of the Barbie film launch (as an example, go and Google Margot Robbie, if you haven’t done it already), and everyone is talking about dolls, Sindy’s boss is on holiday?

I rang Kid Kreations, who had been the most recent manufacturer to work with Sindy. I wanted to try and get some images, at the very least. They said they had passed the license back to Pedigree, and that they could give me nothing. They did at least give me a different number for Pedigree.

I finally got through to Pedigree on the phone and spoke to a lovely woman called Alex who explained that Matt was on holiday but that he was answering emails. She said I wasn’t the only journalist trying to reach him. No kidding, I thought.

So come on, tell us what’s going on

OK, so after some haggling and promising not to reveal it before the big announcement at DollyCon, Matt Reynolds sent me the breakdown of his presentation speech, so I could see what lay in store for Sindy’s future. I think I just about understand it.

I think most fans and collectors were really hoping and praying for confirmation of a 60th birthday Sindy doll, and whilst Matt hadn’t ruled that out, this hasn’t exactly been confirmed. And his statement is somewhat confusing:

“I know there are many rumours about us releasing a Limited Edition 60th Celebratory Doll,” his talk at DollyCon states. “I can confirm we have been working hard with Kid Kreations to see if it is possible to bring this doll to the market to commemorate Sindy’s 60th celebrations.

“I can’t yet guarantee you that this Limited Edition 60th Doll will happen. But I can say we believe it is more likely than unlikely”

“Here is an exclusive sneak peek for you all to see the current design and look of this special doll. Manufacturing as well as the operational logistics of directly selling products is new to us, so unfortunately I can’t yet guarantee you that this Limited Edition 60th Doll will happen. But I can say we believe it is more likely than unlikely to happen, and we will continue to move this special project forward with Kid Kreations and come back to you all with further information as and when we can. If we are able to move forward with it, it is likely that we will do a pre-sell before Christmas with a view to ship in early 2024. I hope you like the special design and look of this special 60th doll.”

Make of that what you will. Particularly as Kid Kreations told me on the phone that they weren’t working on Sindy anymore. And there is absolutely nothing on their website about Sindy at the time of writing. I can’t help wondering if Pedigree has been caught on the hop, not anticipating such interest, and hastily assembled this after the entire UK’s press had been chasing the MD down on his holidays.

And does this mean that Pedigree is planning to manufacture and bring this new doll to market themselves? Surely that would be a good thing? The Sindy of the ‘60s was successful in no small part because Pedigree was at the helm, doing the job properly. Are they taking it back?

What is clear is that the digital world of Sindy is getting some love and attention

“We have commissioned a complete rebuild and update for both Sindy.com, aimed at kids, and vintagesindy.co.uk, aimed at adult fans,” says Matt. “We also have enlisted an experienced social media and marketing company to help us with our social media strategy and activity.” He goes on to explain that the focus in on creating a digital presence that people will know are official pages and websites. It seems like some of their social is kinda run by fans at the moment. I think.

The new look is aimed at an even younger market – effectively bypassing ‘pester power’ and putting the purchasing decision firmly in the hands of parents or grandparents

I was going to link those two web addresses above, but all roads lead to the same site at the moment, which is sindy.co.uk, so have that for now. I’m assuming everything is still under construction.

And yes, there is a new look Sindy design suite. I’m still confused, so don’t shoot me if I’ve read this wrong. In fact, if you’re a Sindy expert and any of the information in my article is wrong, drop me a comment below. I’m flying blind here. But I think the designs represent what the new doll(s) *might* look like, and how the designs can be used for merch.

The new look is aimed at an even younger market – effectively bypassing ‘pester power’ and putting the purchasing decision firmly in the hands of parents or grandparents. A new departure that will include a ragdoll format. The new Sindy themes are Ballerina, Sleep-time, Princess, Unicorn, Mermaid, and Fairy.

New looks: Ballerina, Mermaid, Princess

Matt explains: “We have taken on board the feedback from retail that Sindy has a passionate and loyal following by millions of Sindy fans who are now parents and grandparents themselves. She is a trusted brand that represents all things good about their own childhood memories. Therefore, we are delighted to announce that we will be taking Sindy into the Baby & Toddler category for the first ever time.”

“We work with a successful licensing agency who will present this new look to all the leading baby and toddler manufacturers in the market (everything from baby clothing and accessories to bathtime fun and comforting toys).”

So… does that mean that multiple manufacturers will be licensed to produce Sindys and Sindy merch? I wish I could tell you I knew the answer to this, but I don’t. Have a look at the creatives anyway…

For heaven’s sake, tell us what’s going on!

Sorry. I’m really trying here. I think if I had to round up the information I’ve had, my understanding would be that there are some new Sindy designs, no actual doll confirmed this year (although it’s possible), a new target market aimed at very young kids, and the potential to brand a ton of stuff like baby suits etc. It seems like the licensing agency will be working to bring the new look Sindy to manufacturers, but there is nobody to actually make a doll – and maybe Pedigree is planning this? Lord, I feel like I’m ending this article with more questions than I started.

I started writing this article from a very objective viewpoint, having not really given a toss about either Sindy or Barbie as a kid. But Sindy has now captured my heart. Perhaps because she has been mismanaged through the years. Perhaps because, like many British people, she’s a bit of a misfit, not quite getting things right all the time. Maybe because in sales terms, she’s the underdog. Who knows.

What I do know is that there is an ARMY of Sindy fans who are passionate about her. That she has hung in there against all odds. And that she is 60 in September.

So happy birthday Sindy, here’s to your future, whatever that looks like.

Thanks to Pedigree Dolls & Toys for imagery and information, and to Bonita Turner, publisher and editor of Mam’selle (Sindy magazine) for images and interview, which you can read here.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Sindy at 60: What happened to Britain’s answer to Barbie? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

In autumn 2019 my ten-year relationship broke down. As is often the case with long-termers, it went out with a fizz, rather than a bang. What I didn’t expect to find, once the dust had cleared, was that I love being single in my fifties.

Aside from a period where we were angry and disappointed that it was broken, the ex and I have circled back and become really close friends. I love him to bits. We hang out together a lot, we know each other inside out and backwards – we know where all the bodies are buried. And we are fiercely protective and supportive of each other.

I have wondered if this may be one of the reasons why I am happy being single

I have wondered if this may be one of the reasons why I am happy being single, actually. Maybe the close friendship safety net, and the opportunity to hang out with a close male friend means that I don’t need to fill the gap with another man. (And yes, I will talk about sex later).

My ex, it must be said, is thoroughly ‘enjoying himself’, incidentally. We talk about his wins and losses; the mad dates and the good ones. And I genuinely don’t feel a shred of jealousy, which is odd. Maybe because none of them have felt serious yet? If – when – he falls in love again, and it’s a proper thing, maybe that will be harder.

But I digress. I want to talk about me, and about being a woman in her fifties, genuinely happy to be single. How do I love being single? Let me count the ways…

It’s all about me

I cannot remember the last time that my own life was all about me. By choice – I’m not grumbling – I’ve had blissful years as mother, and lover. But I’ve been a parent and a partner for a ton of my adult life. Suddenly, I only have myself to look out for. Woot.

I cannot remember the last time that my own life was all about me

This has been startling in a number of ways. It took some getting used to – my life has revolved around other people for decades, so suddenly only having myself to care for has been weird.

I have found the time to work on some of the things that make me unhappy. To think about what I want, what I want to do, what I need to change. Hell, even what I like doing.

From macro to mega, it’s all about me, and I am enjoying this. Getting to know me, getting to know all about me…

Sleeping better

Fucking hell – snoring. You know this one. As we all get older and fatter, me included, snoring becomes a real issue. Not if you’re single though, tra la! I can snore like a bandsaw if I like, with nobody to complain about it.

And equally, I wake up without that psychotic desire to stab someone for keeping me awake with their own snoring. Oh happy, joyous, wondrous solitary sleep!

I’m a big advocate for sleeping separately anyway – sex in one bed, sleep in two

It’s not just about snoring though. I’m a menopausal woman and the past few years have not been fun in many ways. Some of those ways have been at night – having hideous dreams; waking up every bloody hour thrashing about; having hot flushes and peeling myself off the pillow with my hair drenched.

I mean, nobody wants to share a bed with that. And it was a lot easier to go through that without having someone else to worry about. I’m a big advocate for sleeping separately anyway – sex in one bed, sleep in two.

I’ve learned to use power tools

I mean, I’m a grownup girl with an independent lifestyle, right? But DIY used to scare the living shit out of me. What if I drill through the wall, or there are wires to destroy? What if I break stuff? How do I even work the drill?

Now I don’t care. I just have a bash at it and generally it’s fine (thanks Youtube videos). I built bedroom furniture recently. I’ve put up pictures (still on the wall), and completely re-hung the back gate with new hinges etc. I actually like it! Get some decent tools, that’s my advice. Then it’s a piece of cake. Thanks, De Walt tools inherited from Papa. *Blows dust off imaginary drill/gun.

Life is on more of an even keel

Or, perhaps more accurately, if things get wobbly, it’s my wobble. I’m not dealing with household drama, or the day-to-day aggro of other people’s emotions. The ebb and flow is all mine.

I’m surprisingly unlonely

To be fair, I have a large house and there is a lot of coming and going. There’s an office on the top floor which gets used by some of the team – either for working in or crashing on the futon. I have sometimes taken students in to help with the bills. I have friends round for lunch and dinner. Child comes home occasionally.

‘The Favourite’

The house never feels empty, but when it’s quiet, I love it. The peace. The freedom to do what I like. The calm. It’s blissful.

Having Alice Pug the Duchess of Pickleton helps. She is my constant companion, and we potter about the house together. She keeps an eye on me as I cook, she rootles through the recycling. I talk to her all day – something I forget is weird when we are not at home alone. She snuggles me the second I sit on the sofa, resting her snout on my leg. It’s quite hard to shake Alice off. I love her enormously. My daughter says Alice pug is the ‘favourite child’. I feel bound to point out that the dog is actually nice to me.

What about sex, I hear you cry

It’s a funny old thing, sex. I love sex, but I have no real interest in it unless I fancy someone. And I don’t fancy anyone at the moment, so sex is not really on my agenda.

I’m in no rush to find a person. Frankly, a couple of weeks on any dating app serves as a very good reminder that single is infinitely preferable. Ye gods, the horrors I’ve seen. I’d rather be single until I join the Choir Invisible.

…he was a lovely man, and I had a lovely time. But I could no more have shagged him than I could fly to the moon. One knows, instantly, if that thing is there

I actually went on a date the other day – the first one for three years. I kid you not. AND during Dry January. And he was a lovely man, and I had a lovely time. But I could no more have shagged him than I could fly to the moon. One knows, instantly, if that thing is there. And it wasn’t; such a shame. Alice even liked him – and yes I took the dog on the date. Love me, love my dog.

But he waved his knife about when he was talking and didn’t ask me anything about my life besides what I do for a living. So there’s that. I think we get much more fussy as we age. But why compromise? I don’t want a cutlery-waver.

Read: No 50 is not the ‘new 30’. It’s better than that

But back to the joy of singledom – are there any down sides?

Not being invited to dinner parties etc – and I think all single people would say this. Unless you’re in a twosome, you miss a lot of those things. I spend time with friends, and have as much of a social life as I want. But I am aware that there’s a kind of ‘couples circuit’ that you drop out of once you’re a loose horse, and that makes me a bit sad.

Single travel is exciting and challenging. But it’s fun to share that stuff

I wonder if some of that is down to you being a potential threat, as a wild singleton. Or maybe it is just easier to balance even numbers around a table. Anyway, that’s a thing. (Incidentally, any of my mates who have read this far – I am now ready for you to set me up with people, so feel free, but no weirdos please).

And going traveling with someone. Single travel is exciting and challenging. But it’s fun to share that stuff. Having said that, I’ve been having holidays with girlfriends (also single) again recently, and I LOVE that. Already booked a Greek island in May with three other girlfriends and I can’t wait! Girls on tour, lock up your sons etc.

Overall though…

In the grand scheme of things, the cons are massively outweighed by the pros. That’s not to say that I’ve shut the door on romance. But I’m loving this period of my life.

Eventually I’d like to meet someone naturally, not via an app. I’d like to be attracted to someone and find that ‘thing’ that grows between two people, and the excitement of knowing you’ll end up in bed together at some point. But for that I’d probably have to go out more, and go to social events to meet people. Perhaps the warmer weather will help. Buck up, spring and summer.

I’m open to new love, and I think we all know that if love were to come knocking, I’d be excited, start capering around like fool again, doing the ‘new romance’ dance. But right now I’m enjoying the single ride. And some decent sleep.

 
Unlike in the past, more women these days are enjoying being alone. Besides love, there are many meaningful things to experience, and you don’t need a partner to experience them. There is no right or wrong choice, but some single women express their emotions and attitudes through cool ways, such as tattoos, or installing Neon Signs with words like ‘single life’ in their bedrooms.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Why I love being single in my fifties appeared first on Silver Magazine.

My dad died last year. After the next few days, I won’t be able to say that anymore. It’ll be ‘the year before last’, or ‘in 2021’. And it will sound like it was quite a while ago, and I don’t want that to happen. Because it feels like he’s getting further and further away from me.

In reality, he died at the beginning of last year, so it’s already coming up for two years. By now, perhaps, one would imagine that the grief is lessening, but it isn’t. Last Christmas, I was numb. This year I feel an enormous sense of visceral, angry loss. Grief does not go anywhere; it just changes form. Grief, the ultimate shapeshifter.

Grief does not go anywhere; it just changes form. Grief, the ultimate shapeshifter.

This season I am crippled by grief, it overwhelms me. I ditched the Prozac a couple of months ago and the deep dive my serotonin levels have taken has surprised even me. I wanted to stop taking the pills, because I felt like I’d been putting off the inevitable, which was my ability to mourn him properly. I felt I’d been cushioned from my own sense of loss – from feeling everything properly, actually.

Read: When my dad went into hospital

Don’t get me wrong – antidepressants have been a bit of a lifesaver; enabling me to get on with, well, life. And I am grateful for that. But it was time to feel real again. As they say – be careful what you wish for. I’m really mourning; it doesn’t get much more real than it feels right now. I’m really bloody sad.

Holiday at Camber Sands, 1977

It’s been interesting to see how friends have reacted to this. I know everyone has got their own shit going on, and I’m not angry with anyone. But I’ve had friends make my grief about themselves. I’ve had one friend tell me to grow up. The cliché about clichés being true is, it seems, also true. You find out who your true friends are when the chips are down.

I miss my dad and I wish he hadn’t died. I wish it so much it actually hurts in my chest.

Happily, there are a lot of them who are true blue, for which I am grateful. I’m not a brilliant friend to have right now, but I am eternally thankful for the ones that chip away, keeping in touch. Same with family. I expect people have forgotten what I even look like; I’ve been hiding away, not able to do much except function. But they’ve been there, checking in. I see you. Thank you.

Loving mention must also go to Alice pug, who hates it when I cry; she sits as close as she can, leaning into me, trying to help. I’ve soaked her fur with tears on many occasions. I don’t know how people manage without dogs, I really don’t.

I think, also, from the outside I probably look alright. Chugging away at work, walking the dog, posting jokes on social. But I’m not okay, I feel very sad. I miss my dad and I wish he hadn’t died. I wish it so much it actually hurts in my chest.

The five stages of grief are set out thus: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Arguably there are seven stages but five will do, frankly. Regardless of how many stages there are, I feel as though I’m experiencing them all at the same time. It doesn’t feel linear to me.

Dad lived every second of his life with the same gusto as Oliver Reed going at a bottle of scotch. It’s not fair

I wail and keen in desperate sadness, and simultaneously am furious this has happened. I make bargains with the devil; I have wished, for my sins, that my 101-year-old grandmother had died instead. Why should she live? Her life is comparatively grim; my dad lived every second of his with the same gusto as Oliver Reed going at a bottle of scotch. It’s not fair.

I feel like he is with me though. I take measures to keep him close. I drive his car; I wear one of his jackets. Today, after stomping around the park with Alice in the driving rain and hanging out said jacket, I discovered a hidden pocket. And inside it was a spare carrier bag Dad had stashed, ready for a spot of spontaneous shopping. It was from his tiny local supermarket and was the most Dad thing I’ve seen for a while. It made me sob like a baby, but it’s good to know he’s still got my back. Especially if I need to pop to the shops. Thanks Dad.

Ironically I have today received an email from Sun Life, with some helpful tips on managing grief at Christmas. Some of it is useful, such as ditching expectations (yours, and other people’s); creating new traditions; limiting the booze; ensuring you communicate with people. All good advice. But probably the best tip is about allowing yourself time to sit with grief, and to feel it.

Ray Harrington-Lowe. Gone but not forgotten!

I’ve done a lot to put off this grief. Literally two days ago I found myself thinking of having a good old cry as being a luxury. I’ve wanted to cry a lot, but I’ve had shit to do, I’ve avoided giving in to the crying. It was a strange revelation, to realise I felt it was an indulgence, something to treat myself to. But that’s what it’s become for me. Gotta hold it all together, gotta keep going. It’s time to stop that now.

Solstice, Yule, Christmas, the New Year; times of rebirth. I’m taking the time for myself, to ensure I give myself the gift of grieving. Grief won’t go away, and I know it’s not something I can tick off a to-do list. But immersing myself in it for a while has been a long time coming, and I want it. I need it, or I’m going to get stuck here.

Cheers Dad! Happy heavenly Christmas xxx

Help is at hand

If you’re grieving or affected by this article, you’re not alone.

Here’s that helpful article from Sun Life.

Thanks Mind for this list…

At a Loss
ataloss.org
The UK’s signposting website for the bereaved. They can help you find bereavement services and counselling. They also have resources on coronavirus pandemic bereavement.

Bereaved through Alcohol and Drugs (BEAD)
beadproject.org.uk
Information and support for anyone bereaved through drug or alcohol use.

Blue Cross
bluecross.org.uk
Animal charity that helps sick, injured and homeless pets.

Child Bereavement UK
0800 028 8840
childbereavementuk.org
Support when a baby or child of any age is dying, or a child is facing bereavement.

The Compassionate Friends
0345 123 2304
tcf.org.uk
Provides support to bereaved families after the death of a child.

Cruse Bereavement Care
0808 808 1677
cruse.org.uk
Information and support after a bereavement.

Dying Matters
dyingmatters.org
Coalition of individual and organisational members across England and Wales, aiming to help people talk more openly about dying, death and bereavement, and to make plans for the end of life.

The Good Grief Trust
thegoodgrieftrust.org
Charity run by the bereaved, helping all those suffering grief in the UK. Can help you find reassurance, advice and support. They have a detailed page of coronavirus bereavement advice.

Hub of Hope
hubofhope.co.uk
UK-wide mental health service database. Lets you search for local, national, peer, community, charity, private and NHS mental health support. You can filter results to find specific kinds of support.

Mood Diaries
medhelp.org/land/mood-tracker
moodscope.com
moodchart.org
moodpanda.com
Some examples of mood diaries – many more are available. Silver/Mind doesn’t endorse any particular one.

Samaritans
116 123 (freephone)
jo@samaritans.org
Freepost SAMARITANS LETTERS
samaritans.org
Samaritans are open 24/7 for anyone who needs to talk. You can visit some Samaritans branches in person. Samaritans also have a Welsh Language Line on 0808 164 0123 (7pm–11pm every day).

Sands
0808 164 3332
sands.org.uk
Information and support for anyone affected by the death of a baby.

Sudden
0800 2600 400
sudden.org
Support for people bereaved by sudden death.

Sue Ryder
sueryder.org
Supports people living with neurological conditions and terminal illness, and for anyone experiencing bereavement after losing somebody.

Survivors of Bereavement by Suicide (SOBS)
uk-sobs.org.uk
Emotional and practical support and local groups for anyone bereaved or affected by suicide.

Widowed and Young (WAY)
widowedandyoung.org.uk
Offers a peer-to-peer support network to anyone who was aged 50 or under when their partner died.

Mind’s services

Mind’s helplines provide information and support by phone and email.
Local Minds offer face-to-face services across England and Wales. These services include talking therapies, peer support and advocacy.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Coping with grief, the ultimate shapeshifter appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Fenella Fielding had it spot on when she said, “People are very free with their bad advice.” And I’ve just about had enough of it.

In fact, the older I get, the more ‘advice’ I’m getting. This week I’ve been told by do-gooders in the news that people my age should drink less, for example. My Facebook feed is filled with sponsored posts about ways to look younger, and as for the health and fitness advice out there. Don’t get me started.

All of this is very well-meaning, I’m sure. But I’m not five; I’m nearly 50. And actually, I’m pretty happy with where I am, cheers.

I’m a grown-up now, thanks

With being 50 has come something of a new sense of freedom. I never worried about stuff much as a child – and by stuff I mean, like how I look in this dress, does my bum look big, will they like me, am I doing it the right way? etc – and refreshingly I find this ‘not giving a fig’ attitude is returning.

Hand on heart I can’t say I’m entirely free from self-critical behaviour, not at all. But I definitely have a stronger attitude, and with this comes a huge sense of relief. Not just relieved in an ‘about bloody time’ way, but how relieved I am to be a bit older.

How freeing it is to let go of the ‘perfect look’ and just be happy with what I’ve got. And actually be massively grateful to be here at all. I’ve lost many friends already. I hope others share this revelation as they age too, because I’d really like them to feel this relief and freedom. It’s utterly liberating.

And it came to me. I really like the way I look

I had some photos taken recently for a PR campaign. The 20- or 30-something me would have been picking over them afterwards, looking for faults. Worrying about the double chin or the angle of the shot – is it flattering? Wondering if that one made me look fat. What the actual F is happening to my hair in that one, etc? You know the drill.

And it came to me. I really like the way I look. I was actually looking at the composition of the photographs – not whether my arse looked gigantic.

I’m not perfect, but actually that is exactly the point. Being physically perfect has absolutely ceased to be my focus, and wow, I love that.

I love my life

I’ve had an unbelievably exciting time over the years. Sometimes amazing, sometimes truly terrible, but never boring. And you can see that, I think. I like the character in my face.

I like my bone structure, and I like the way my face isn’t symmetrical. And as for not having a perfect body… the fact I’m still standing after the gruelling hedonism I’ve asked it to take on is something I’m truly grateful for. Wow, but the liver is extraordinary, isn’t it?

More to the point, as I age, and lose friends and family to illness, disease and crisis, I know just exactly how lucky I am to still be here. I have a spare tyre? Christ, in the grand scheme of things that is so microscopically unimportant. Pass the port.

The last thing I want at this time in my life is for other people to be telling me what to do

It’s far more important to me these days to look and feel healthy than worry about wrinkles and baggy bits. And I cannot tell you how lovely that is. And the last thing I want at this time in my life is for other people to be telling me what to do or trying to give me new things to worry about.

Ah, the relief of ageing

Moving into later years there is a huge sense of letting go of the pressure we put upon ourselves. I’ve spent most of my adult life being dissatisfied with the way I look in one way or another. Depending on how good my mental health is, that can be picking at odd small things (“I hate this mole”) to literally not being able to stand seeing myself in the mirror, and crying in clothing shop changing rooms.

I’m not going to ask why we do this to ourselves. It’s obvious – apart from the pressure around us to look a certain way; being young and hot is what attracts people to us in our youth, in our breeding years. To imagine the focus will ever change on the glory of youth is unrealistic. But with that beautiful youth comes so much pressure, and it’s beyond liberating not to feel I’m in the competitive scrum any more. The sex soup.

I know that with our knowledge of nutrition and fitness I could ramp up my routines and have a body like I used to have (or more honestly, like I wanted to have). But I’m also totally behind those flexy, sexy silver gym bunnies who make their health and wellness a religion; good on you, seriously.

There’s a poignancy that comes with the passing of youth, like a sigh in an empty room

But this is about choices, and just as much as I choose to have a glass or wine or too much cheese, I uphold anyone else’s right to have that green smoothie, or do that tough mudder at 70. Just stop telling us what to do.

I’m aware that many people find the move from young to middle age a really hard transition. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling blue about it sometimes too. There’s a poignancy that comes with the passing of youth, like a sigh in an empty room. But speaking purely for myself, that kind of passed around 47. It helps that ‘being older’ is the new cool. And it really is. Just look around.

There are more adults in the UK over 45 than under

I would really love to hear from readers about their own experiences. There is an absolute tidal wave online championing the silver army. Here at Silver we want to know about you – we want to hear your triumphs and your disasters, your joys and your fears.

Get in touch. Comment below, or Tweet or post on IG with the hashtag #LifeBeginsAt50
You can also find us on Facebook – get involved in the discussions. We read all the comments
Photo of Sam by Erika Szostak

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Don’t tell me what to do! appeared first on Silver Magazine.