In their twenties men want to have as much sex with as many different women as possible. Of course in their forties and fifties all of that hard work will be undone in a blazing crisis of self that returns them squarely to stage one, armed this time with enough Viagra to pre-empt their premature excitement.
For these reasons and others, my friend Megan O'Brien, a successful woman in her own right as the founder of the marketing agency Beauty Brander, almost exclusively dates men in their sixties and older.
It’s true that we older women look better and younger than previous generations did at our age.
When he died I fell in love with somebody 15 years younger than I was – a Hungarian artist – and lived with him for seven years.
So I hadn’t really come to grips with my age at all; it had ricocheted up and down, reflecting the person I was with.
That’s what I thought, anyway, in my snobby and blinkered youth. Because time sped by and suddenly I’d joined them – without the perm and cardi because nobody has them now – but 60 all the same.
I’d had a longish marriage and then a 10-year love affair with a man much older than I – the cartoonist Mel Calman.