Age and attitude

There is no doubt that each generation thinks quite differently from the one before. I’m not suggesting that everyone in a given generation has identical views, but there is often a sort of shorthand among people of a similar age. For instance, I can’t imagine that the Queen and Dick van Dyke have much in common – although they’ve both led quite showbizzy lives when you think about it – but I’m sure they’d be able commiserate over the doings and misdoings of their various children and grandchildren. And although the Queen is said to be a great mimic, I bet her cockney accent isn’t much better than Dick Van Dyke’s.

I suspect quite a few of my own views could be classed as ‘mature’ and I wonder how typical I am of my generation. For instance, I am so bored of songs about love. Surely there can be nothing left to say about it after all these centuries. It’s probably a sign of my jaded and advanced age, but I welcome any lyrics that don’t maunder on about love, requited or not. I’m even feeling nostalgic for songs that were written long before I was born, although I’m not sure that’s technically possible. Noel Coward wrote some wonderfully witty and catty lyrics with no mention of romantic love. He was a man of his time and his words wouldn’t stand up to strict scrutiny by modern eyes, but his song ‘Mad Dogs and Englishmen’ is a great joy. Then there was Tom Lehrer teaching us chemistry in ‘The Elements’ and Elvis Costello offering career advice in ‘Oliver’s Army’. So much more original than love.

Then there is my attitude to clothes. I expect entirely different things from them these days. I used to spend ages thinking about how I’d put different pieces together, which jewellery worked best and whether I had suitable shoes. Now I just put them on. My changed attitude to clothes is partly due to lockdown – who is there to see them? – but also because I’ve seen it all before. I’ve experienced skinny, straight, cropped, flared and wide-legged trousers; dresses and skirts ranging from mini to floor-sweeping; and every style from monochrome minimalism to extravagant Victoriana bedecked with velvet and lace, in every fabric from plastic to bamboo. Looking at photos of the latest fashions, I’m more likely to be thinking “Is that really back in style again?” rather than wondering where I can buy it.

I bet the Queen is the same. She’s probably sick to death of putting on yet another yellow coat and matching hat and yearns instead to be wearing her favourite tartan pyjamas and fluffy slippers. No doubt practising her cockney accent.