I'm going to start with such a cliche phrase, but only because it's the most sincere: I GET IT. Guys have such an easier time aging, probably to make up for how difficult puberty and even post-puberty can be for us. It wasn't until I was even 30 that my lanky ass finally grew into my body and dating good looking women became normal for me.
Yet as the pendulum swings in favor of us guys around this age, I'm more than aware it begins to swing the other way for women. I sympathize, I really do, especially in a society that places so much value upon the youth and beauty of women.
But with these honest acknowledgements on the table, a moment of sincerity: if you're pushing past 50, please stop dressing like you're 21. The skinny black jeans, flats and tank top revealing your leathery, tan-pocked arm flab is depressing. You've got your hair in a high ponytail, a glittery pink iphone case and resting bitchface. Your shit probably didn't stink at 30, but I assure you it stinks now. I want to weep for you. I know it's a struggle to give in to the defeat of age, but there's no shame in aging gracefully. It's like Amy Poehler's "cool mom" character from Mean Girls had a grandmother.
The male equivalent would be a 55 year old guy with salt & pepper hair in a Justin Bieber hairstyle, sagging some extra long cargo shorts, a chain wallet, foamposite Jordans and a furrowed brow ala Jaden Smith.
Now do you get it?