Hands in the air if you’re over the age of 50 and dislike the term cougar and not sure you want to labelled any darn thing. Now, I hear a new term. . SWOFTIE. This could be ME and all of those single women over 50, who know there is more to life than quietly disappearing into the corner. Swoftie – a female over the age of fifty who is single and loving the fact that they are single (Urban Dictionary). Over-50’s women today are far more independent and open to new experiences than their mothers’ generation, mainly due to the fact that many went out to work and have established themselves in careers than in previous years. I’m sure you have seen older women out at the clubs having fun.
Once upon a time there was a 77 year old woman named Disco Sally, whose dance moves made her the hottest club kid at Studio 54. As New York magazine reported in 1991. . . “A tiny, 77-year-old lawyer named Sally Lippman was mourning the death of her husband when she happened upon the disco scene and changed her life. Dressed in tight pants and high-top sneakers, she became Disco Sally, a star of Studio 54 and Xenon who’d draw an audience of adoring fans as she got down on the dance floor.”
IF THE MUSIC IS TOO LOUD, YOU’RE TOO OLD!
The fact is, at 21 you want to party, at 35 you like to go clubbing, but at 45, you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. You are well aware that your best days are behind you, but something keeps pulling you back into the nightlife. Much as you love to dance, it never takes too long for reality to hit you in the face, telling you that you should probably not be hanging out in the club anymore. It could be a club fight that breaks out while you’re there, or knowing that you’ll be calling out of work tomorrow and missing an important meeting because your head is throbbing. Whatever it is, you’ve probably ignored all the signs that it’s time to hang up your club antics, and still want to dance with shoes in hand on somebody dance floor. “Swoftie in da Club“. . as Disco Sally would say.
It is true that spending the night knocking back watered down vodkas, shouting over music and waking up with blurry memories and ruined shoes doesn’t quite cut it anymore. Surely there’s clubbing legs left in the old horse yet. But clubbing has a shelf life whoever or wherever you are. My days may be numbered when it comes to clubbing, but nothing gets me up out of my chair at a party, like a great Soca vibe and before you know it, I’m 45 and whining again til morning come. . .