A few weeks ago, The New York Times wrote about author Stephanie Dolgoff who is “currently struggling as a ‘Formerly’. ” What is a Formerly, you may ask? Apparently, it’s a life stage – like ‘Tween or Baby Boomer – that takes its name from the book, “My Formerly Hot Life: Dispatches From Just the Other Side of Young” (Ballantine Books). About taking on the “thankless task” of coining the newest life stage category, Ms. Dolgoff was, apparently, “undaunted.”

According to Ms. Dolgoff, women in their late 30s and early 40s fall into a “new category of person: adult ’tweens, not quite middle-aged, but no longer our reckless, restless, gravity-defying selves.” Their new moniker: Formerlies, as in formerly hot.

I’m going to have to beg her pardon.

At first I thought the article was amusing and that Dolgoff was making a tongue-in-cheek commentary on what it’s like to age in a culture that seems to value youth over everything. But when I read it again I realized I felt insulted. Who wants to be lumped in a category with someone who is trying to convince people that reaching a certain age requires us to think of ourselves as “formerly” anything. Hot, fashionable, fun, or otherwise?

On the plus side: no longer having to keep up with the latest restaurant and bars. Formerlies, typically mothers of young children, haven’t the time or energy to go. And your friends won’t care. Women this age tend to be a lot more forgiving than they were as high school BFF’s and college roommates. In any case, Formerlies, Ms. Dolgoff explained, are more comfortable in their own skin and no longer depend on other peoples’ judgments. You no longer have to be annoyed at being ogled by strange men on the street.

Then again, you no longer are ogled by strange men on the street. In her book, Ms. Dolgoff recalls a morning commute in which an attractive man asked her the time. “Eight-forty,” she replied tersely. And then, nothing. No longer the sexy young thing who had to adopt “a slightly defensive posture when men asked her superficially innocent questions on public transportation. I was no longer ‘all that,’ perhaps no longer even a little of ‘that,’ whatever ‘that’ is.”

What?

If this woman can make money and get written up in the New York Times for writing a whiny book about how much she misses being offended by wolf whistles and not having any nice shoes to wear, then I’ll invite them over to inspect my very-hot-indeed closet full of designer shoes and show them my treatment for a book that has nothing to do with justifying to myself and the world why I’ve let myself go. I’m not yet so jaded and cynical as to believe that this is the only way that a woman in her 30′s or 40′s can distinguish herself. And there actually are plenty of examples to prove her wrong, so why does The New York Times find Stephanie Dolgoff so fascinating?

Stephanie Dolgoff in The New York Times

It would seem that most of the 62 people who bothered to take the time to comment on this article agree with me. A few of my favorites:

Does everything have to be categorized and labeled? There are “hot” women in their 60s, boring and drab women in their 20s, good people, bad people and then there are most people – those of us who are just living our lives without worrying too much about what category we’re in at any particular time. Why on earth would anyone worry about these things?

Aaaaah the slow news days of summer; pointless stories. Having read the whole thing, I still miss the point. Ah well, I had five minutes of my life to spare.

Congratulations, New York Times, on having dropped to a whole new low. This piece, based on the imagined trend, based on the book picked up by a desperate agent, based on the beyond-brainless blog…is spectacularly vacant (think “black hole” vacant) even by current standards of pop trends.

I have to say that I wanted to like this article but it does seem to follow some trend of someone who can write in an engaging style (self deprecating a bit, witty/slightly cynical), acknowledges and feeds into what others are going through, starts a blog and then somehow it is deemed to be book worthy. I just found this sort of sad and I’m in my ’40′s. I don’t want to be “formerly” anything. I want to live in the PRESENT and know what that means. This is being way too identified with your past self. Yes, it’s challenging, moving through the stages but let’s appreciate each one for what it IS.

Oh geez—is this really worth publishing? Honey, if you’re hot you’re hot at 40, 60. 80. Granted there is a point in your 40′s where everything shifts and women can become invisible–but that’s what separates the haves from the have nots. If you are whining about the dated clothes in your wardrobe that you thought were doing something for you back in the day–you so missed the point.

How vapid! I am in my late 30s and am enjoying one of the best years of my life. I am in a new-ish relationship with a man who, like me, is facing 40. Our concerns are far similar than most would acknowledge: career mobility, aging parents, aches and pains that come with getting older, kids, and finances (in no particular order). We acknowledge and laugh at the fact that he will be “hotter longer” but truthfully, like Kelly Cutrone said “I’m done with being cute.” I deeply value the authenticity of my relationships, and truly knowing myself and what I want in life…wrinkles and wardrobe be damned.

I hope this author didn’t think this article would HELP the sale of her book.

At 43, I’m definitely more comfortable in my own skin and as I’ve settled into each new decade of my life I realize that each one is better than the last. Unlike Stephanie Dolgoff, I’m not chalking this up to a comfort level derived from the fact that no one cares what I look like any more. Guess what? I care plenty and I think I look better now than ever. Frankly, I’ve never cared much about what other people think. As for me and my BFF’s, many of whom do have young children and busy lives, we enjoy keeping up with the latest restaurants and we visit them. Often.

As one of the commenters above suggests, identifying one’s self as “formerly” anything means that your concept of yourself is rooted in the past. I’d much rather enjoy the present and relish the tantalizing prospects for what is yet to come.