Ali Wentworth is an actor, producer, and author known for her roles in Jerry Maguire, It’s Complicated, and Nightcap. She most recently served as producer of the Hulu documentary Pretty Baby: Brooke Shields. Here she opens up about aging in Hollywood, society’s relentless pursuit of youth, and why mature women should be celebrated by society, not cast aside.
Maybe I never really focused on my exterior because my mother never emphasized it—or wore makeup, for that matter, even as the social secretary of the supremely glamorous Reagan White House.
Growing up in Washington, DC, I was a rather plump teenager—the kind of girth that strengthens comedic chops—who was content with Chapstick and Head & Shoulders shampoo as my beauty routine. Even as a young actor, with all the pressures of youth and beauty, I never felt the need to hide imperfections nor doll them up.
And, frankly, I was just never under the spotlight of potential ingenue material. In my 40-year career in entertainment, I’ve never had to fight a nudity clause. I fought to be nude in scenes. The studios fought back.
I was young and had not fully formed into my authentic self. I guzzled cotton-candy-flavored Big Gulps and smoked Camel lights. Don’t get me wrong, I brush my teeth and pay exorbitant amounts of money on hydrating face creams, but it’s always been my priority to focus on the inside. I had skipped along the merry path of life with nary a beauty care. That is, until recently.
I am 58 years old. Aging is a stinging slap in the face, and I can only assume an excruciating Oscar slap for any narcissist. That moment, in the harsh morning light, when you first discover that solitary white chin hair, sirens go off like an air raid signifying, “You’re done, ma’am!”
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve witnessed the lengths some women will go to to fool the world as they try to nip and tuck off a couple of decades. I get it! I’ve repeatedly been seduced by the idea of injecting snake semen into my face with the hope of acquiring a teenage glow. You can get a ponytail facelift, lift your boobs with metal wire attached to a hovering helicopter, augment your cheekbones, hell, sandblast 20 layers of your skin!
But guess what? It’s still you underneath. Truth be told, I myself have succumbed to the pressures of youthful relevance by trusting a doctor to poke into my insecurities.
I recently produced a documentary called Pretty Baby: Brooke Shields, a film that explores the toll sexualization and objectification take on women, as well as the ruthless fascination with youth and beauty. This relentless pursuit of youth by women, a pursuit ironically propelled by men, is also why I chose to partner with Laura Geller, a leading makeup brand that champions the value of older beauty.
We recently came together to create The Invisible Woman, a short film that sheds light on the universal experience of feeling invisible during this incredibly awkward “middle age” women enter. That’s right, for good or bad and due to seismic medical advances, we are living much longer. So middle age hits at 60 years old. Not like our ancestors who died of scurvy at the age of 30. In which case, middle age was 15. And, despite being mothers, executives, creators, and, if I’m being honest, the backbones of society, we’re rendered near obsolete.
