Bingo wings a go go

I don't care

London’s Telegraph newspaper has run a feature by me today in which I display my bingo wings – the swinging loose flesh on my ageing upper arms – to one and all.

I couldn’t give a damn. There are no possible bothers I could give less than.

There is even one shot specially chosen to show that while my upper arm area is pretty well toned from my regular trips to the gym, the loose skin on the underside still sways like a hammock.

What was that brilliant thing Judi Dench quoted?

‘Behold the field in which I grow my fucks. Lay thine eyes upon it and see that it is barren.’

I’m going to embroider that on a deeply sleeveless singlet and wear it next time I go to the gym.

The picture chosen to display the loose and crepey skin.

And this is from someone who used to avidly avoid such places because I thought I was too fat and hideous to be seen in stretch clothing. Offensive to the sight.

A large part of this change of heart is being 64. I’m not looking for fast love, or a soul mate, I just want to go to the gym, do my favourite New York Times word puzzle between sets and leave feeling epic.

But I haven’t ‘given up’ in the stretch waistband sense – I’ve given up caring what other people think. It’s so wonderfully freeing. I feel like Miriam Margoyles. Free to be me.

(Did you see the Insta clip where MM introduced herself to another of my heroines, the Scottish comedian Janey Godley?

She says, ‘Hello Janey, this is a bit of an imposition because I don’t know you but I’m Miriam Margoyles, I’m a Jewish lesbian actress and I just want to tell you I think you’re marvellous…’

It made me squeal with delight. I do hope they meet up and have a goddess conference. You can find it on Janey’s Insta, which if you don’t follow – do.)

But the other thing I think has sparked this change in me is the younger women who go to my gym, who are really on the large side – not a bit chunky, proper big girls – and they are as happy as a bean in lime green cycling shorts and a shocking pink crop top.

There’s no covering up with big t shirts, or the tragic yoga pants I used to wear when I started going to the gym. They are genuinely happy with themselves.

I find those young women absolutely inspiring. So if they’re happy to let their rolls roll, I’m going get my bingo wings out.

We really need to get over judging ourselves.

Here’s the link to the piece. There’s probably a paywall, but worth having a go.