I've noticed signs of ageing creeping up since my late 30s. My fine lines have gradually etched themselves more deeply, and my hooded eyes now resemble an upper bleph before pic.
But in the past 12 months? Gravity has grabbed a hold, and it sure as heck won't let me go.
"What in the love of god is this?" my best friend and I regularly message. Attached: a photo of new neck wrinkles or jiggling jowls, grey hairs, veiny hands or a fresh patch of pigmentation.
Watch the hosts of Mamamia Out Loud discussing why everyone suddenly feels bad about their eyelids. Post continues below.
Add to that the creeping brain fog, a chaotic cycle, and accepting I now need to photograph and zoom in on menus and labels, and it seems patently clear – at 44, THIS is the year I'm being punished for my past sins. One of which is a love of wine, which, inconveniently, has become a fickle friend.
So, you can imagine how vindicated I felt in learning that this accelerated decay is a scientifically proven phenomenon. Researchers have found that ageing is not linear but punctuated by two warp-speed bursts — first at 44 (thank you!), then again at 60.

























