From left: Cover of French Elle, 1974; a Saks Fifth Avenue ad featuring Jerry Hall, Lisa Taylor, and Griscom, circa 1977.
Another friend, the artist Immi Storrs, confided to me that more than age itself, it was the lack of men straining their trapezius muscles to get a better view of her that hit her the hardest. “My 40th and 50th birthdays weren’t such a big deal to me,” she said. “What was really upsetting and clear evidence of entering a new stage of my life was when men stopped looking at me altogether.”
Around the time I started grappling with a loss of epidermal elasticity, I did find other means of professional fulfillment, first with a career in TV, including cohosting the Food Network’s Dining Around and HBO’s Entertainment News, and later as a proprietor of two home decor boutiques. Then, an unlikely salve walked into my life: a charming, handsome, much younger man.
As lovely and immediate as our attraction was, it was not without obstacles. I was incredibly self-conscious about the two-decade age difference. At one point I even told him, “Look, we’re having a fabulous time, but there’s going to come a moment when we will need to part ways and for you to be with someone closer to your age.” He thought I was ridiculous. The years between us had never been a big deal for him.
Ten years later, we are still together and happily married. And while I can go on my merry way down the street without much notice, he gets checked out all the time. I get a kick out of that.
