Suzanne Harrington: All us mid-lifers want is for our lipstick to stop crawling up our faces

"Where once you threw yourself around in a mangle of elbows, or at least stood at the back bobbing along to the band, today’s gigs have become a prime source of that midlife regenerative rage."

Suzanne Harrington: not given to be patient of gig-talkers. Pic: Denis Scannell

Although giddily free of the pressures faced by middle-aged female persons of previous generations to swerve being labelled words like ‘mutton’ by dark forces – imagine a world where mid-life women were supposed to care about hemlines and colour palettes as they silently battled menopause while trying not to murder everyone around them – the worries of the contemporary midlife woman have been modified for the digital age.

We talk freely now about feelings, hormones, and bodies; we wear what we like, from band t-shirts to ballgowns; we ride the surge of regenerative midlife rage, sloughing off what no longer serves us.