Party Til We’re 99…
Our fun years don’t have to be the ones behind us
When I turned 30 I had a blowout birthday. There was a club, a DJ, a photographer, food, open bar, and a near accident when an AC unit plunged from the ceiling. A time was had and somewhere there are the pictures to prove it.
After the celebrating finished, I told myself that this was exactly how I imagined ringing in my milestone birthdays - music, dancing, and friends gathered together. It seemed perfect to me. At 30, I was smitten with this version of nightlife.
When I turned 40, the vibe was more subdued. It was life during Covid after all. There was food, but no DJ and raucous party vibes. It was 8 friends, huddled around an outdoor restaurant table. I was lucky enough that my birthday fell when it was warm enough to enjoy outdoor dining.
In the years since 40, I think G and I have maybe had one night out that wasn’t a dinner. Somehow in the decade or so since 30, my pace has changed. As much as I want to dance, I also want to sit down and talk to my friends (and hear them!). I also want a good night of sleep. 😴 Instead of scrimping and saving all my pennies to afford a one night bash, I would rather blow my hard earned money on a trip and a totally new experience with those closest to me. My new dream for 50 is to rent a villa in Sardinia for my friends.
I’ve mostly been ok with this new version of milestone celebrations and life. My knees certainly thank me. But earlier this year G and I heard that one of our go-to dancing spots from our not-yet-married years was shutting down. It was the best kind of spot. Small, intimate, good music, and no stuffy vibes.
The rent was too high. The new neighbors complained. Ever since I heard the news, I’ve had such a rush of nostalgia for our late nights, dancing until the wee hours, crammed next to the tiny DJ booth.
This rush of nostalgia is coinciding just when the internets are telling us how club going is a boon for aging seniors. I feel like my 30 year old self is whispering in my ear…
They’re Over 80. You Can Find Them in the Club
Photo: Romane Iskaria for the New York Times
There is the gnawing loneliness that seems to grow darker as we get older. Days become absorbed by screens and social media. Our attitude becomes stuck in a routine way of being. Feeling too old to do something.
But who said there was an age limit on partying? And who said the only story about getting older has to feel like life is being sucked out of you every day?
It was well past midnight on a recent weekend, and the Mirano nightclub in central Brussels pulsed with its usual energy. A D.J. played bass-heavy music with a West African lilt, people downed shots at the bar and red lights beamed across a crowded dance floor.
Among the revelers in crop tops, short skirts and high heels, one group stood out: gray-haired retirement-home residents, many in their 80s or 90s. The men wore suits with pocket handkerchiefs, and the women, in mascara and red lipstick, wore chunky necklaces and tops with sequins.
“Look at the atmosphere,” said Guillaume Vanderweyen, 99, who was clubbing for the first time in 40 years. “Everyone is happy because we’re doing something different. That matters in life.”
We can all really do something different to put joy, energy, and connection back in our lives. The secret that these wise folks found was being in intergenerational spaces. Not waiting for the young folks to visit the nursing home, but finding new friends, in new spaces. Just don’t forget to take your hearing aids out ! 👂
Consider me inspired to find a beach party in Sardinia when I turn 50! 💃
Hold on to your clothes…or let them hold on to you
The other core memory about my 30th birthday was the dress. I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find the perfect dress. I ended up with a bandage-inspired dress, which still lingers in my fashion archive (read: closet) waiting for the little one to swoop it up when it comes back in fashion, yet again.
Apparently I was sleeping and that again time is now!
Extremely Small and Incredibly Tight: The Bandage Dress Makes a Comeback
Photo: Sonia Recchia (Getty Images via New York Times)
Kaia Gerber as a 2024 dupe for the original worn by her mom in 1993:
Photo: Vinnie Zuffante (Getty Images via New York Times)
But, here’s the thing: I’m not going to be dusting mine off anytime soon. The thing about getting older is you to start to want to know more about the things in front of you. And well, the bandage dress, as Vanessa Friedman has so astutely reminded me, is a loaded statement:
But as much as the return of the bandage dress is being framed in the language of fun or nostalgia, it is also, erm, all wrapped up in the Ozempic-inspired rise of a new form of body consciousness and diet culture. Not to mention a political climate in which cartoonish versions of femininity are the preferred paradigm. It is a way of dressing backward, at a time when it can seem as if society itself is going backward.
Midlife means I am not willingly endorsing dressing backward in a time where we are all moving backwards against our will.
With that, we all need a good throwback dance break!
Thanks for reading!