I'm 35- and the more I say that, the more I start to believe it. I'm half way though my thirties, and even though I still remember what it was like to feel like a dorky seventh grader (basically, like a dorky 35 year old) I have reached that stage in life where I'm happy with who I am, and not intimidated to force myself into something else. However, with this new found wisdom- I do have moments where I feel totally, completely.... well, old. O_L_D.
I had some frequent flier miles that were about to expire, and there weren't enough to really do anything with, except subscribe to some nonsensical magazines that I would never in a million years subscribe to. So, Matt wound up with a year's subscription to the Economist, and also Maxim. When each issue comes, I peek at the cover- and it makes me feel seriously uncomfortable. These "women" look like little girls playing sexy dress up. Seriously! When Avril Lavigne was on the cover in her push up bra- I told Matt that I couldn't, in good faith, let him have this because it was just CREEPY. (Note: I felt creepy about Castro on the cover of the Economist, but in a much different way).
These Maxim cover girls look like teeny boppers- and they are younger than my little brother, who, (gasp!) at age 29 is my barometer for acceptable young-ness (i.e. immaturity). I just don't get the whole starlet thing. In my mind, a woman with experience is much more attractive than a 20 year old nymphet with no clear idea of who she really is. Sorry Avril, but your purple push up bra (with matching hair extensions) did nothing for me. Now Selma Hayek (non-preggers) is a verrry different story.