There has been a lot of discourse lately on us, the forgotten generation. We’re Generation X, late forties- mid fifties. We grew up with landlines, power cuts, Yuppies, Kylie in ‘Neighbours’, and the “me first” hedonism of Thatcherism and Reaganomics. We were only just becoming computer- literate and mobile phones were but a distant dream to us. If we were stranded after a rowdy indie gig, we had to rush to a payphone fast, or park bench for the night,it was.
The reason the broadsheets are finally acknowledging our existence is that unemployment is back in the UK and USA, and we’re falling through society’s cracks. The phrase that best defines us is,”too old to hire; too young to retire”. It’s true and it’s not easy.
It’s a simple problem: our society is obsessed with the youth market. How many times have you seen hip young things advertising clothes? Contrast that with middle age and expectations. We’re not leaping around in ripped jeans and Converse. That would be tantamount to putting Alan Partridge in a Marc Jacobs perfume advert. Not going to happen. “Saa-aa-aaad!” But I’m not wearing M&S pastels. No thanks. I’m an old goth! Black and white and red all over for me.
Everything cool or exciting is pinned to emerging: emerging writers; emerging bands, emerging influencers. I recently saw the Irish/English artists Ridiculousmus at Tron Theatre and they said, “What about the SUBMERGED talent?!” We laughed, but we knew what they were saying.
It’s a definite double -bind. I was born in 1973, and two little kids recently called me “old lady”. I find this both terrifying and hilarious. There’s a funny paradox in being in your fifties: all that experience, but not so much energy to express it. We remain the in-between, like a haircut slowly growing out into the awkward stage. Our opinions don’t count as much as Gen Z, but we don’t take the flak like Boomers. So what do we do?
It’s up to us to revolt, to remind people we are still vital. It may take us a little longer to meet that deadline, but we know what we are doing…most… of the time, and after three coffees. We’re still here. If you like it, put an ‘X’ on it.
Hit The North 