“I looked in the mirror on my birthday and discovered that my ears had gotten old. They are no longer shell-like and appealingly pink, but pendulous and wrinkled, something like Hermione Gingold's ears in Gigi (and how many years has it been since I realized I had begun to relate to Hermione instead of Leslie Caron when I watch Gig?) The spots and freckles, the flab and wobble, the folded eyelids and the stubby eyelashes, the creaky knees and crumbling teeth had, until the moment of the pendulous lobes, been matters for denial and half-hearted plans for renovation and disguise. Old ears were my turning point. I have reached the Age of Acceptance”

Jane O’Reilly