On Sunday night, as I stepped into Cliveden House for Dame Shirley Bassey's 70th birthday party, I didn't for one moment worry about what I looked like, or whether I was going to be the youngest-looking person in the room.  

For really, at the age of 49, what do I care? I don't attend parties to be snapped by the paparazzi. Nor do I attend parties merely to be seen by my fellow partygoers.  

I go, particularly in the case of good old Shirley, to celebrate the birthday of one of my friends. And for wonderful conversation. And to celebrate the liberation and freedom of being an 'old bird' on the razzle.  

Indeed, as I stepped into that party on Sunday evening, all I cared about was finding interesting people to talk to - from worlds as varied as business, politics and showbusiness - and that Shirley, Cilla Black, and Joan Collins wouldn't out-dance or out-last me on the dance floor.  

Sadly, that's exactly what they did - partying until the early hours while I had to return home to bed at midnight so I could prepare for my pantomime appearance - I am currently playing Jack in Jack And The Beanstalk at the Hexagon Theatre in Reading - the next morning.  

If not for that, I would have been clamouring to stay out with the rest of them. No wonder we ended up on page three of the Mail under the headline Golden Girl Power.  

The truth is that the days of slippers, blankets and a crossword are long gone for women of a "certain age". Now, it's parties, sparkling conversation and a lust for life that no longer need be dampened by outdated social expectations.  

My mother's generation was brought up to effectively give up on life after 30. Once they were married with children, they were encouraged to fade into the background, to stop worrying about fashion and careers and to get on with motherhood.  

When I was a twenty-something pop star in the Eighties, I could barely look beyond the age of 40 - let alone imagine that I would ever be 50. Now I feel there is nothing standing in my way. And much of that, I feel, is down to women such as Shirley, Joan and Cilla.  

Thanks to them, we 'oldies' have been given licence to indulge ourselves and prolong our careers, spend money on clothes and pampering, and generally get out and have fun without being labelled as barmy old birds who should know better.  

Never was that so clear as on Sunday night, when it was very much the glamorous older women who were commanding all the attention - from men of all ages. The males in the mix positively drooled, and not just at the jaw-dropping, floor-length gowns, but at these women's wit, their life experience, their inner "we've done it all" confidence.  

I remember watching Shirley take to the stage at around 10pm and the entire room stood silent, hanging on to her every word as much as gawping at her fantastic figure. We have simply never seen women like her looking like this at such an advanced age before. Who would have thought, even 30 years ago, that any woman could have a lasting and sustainable career after 40?  

As a young woman when I was singing and presenting on TV, it was drummed into me that I should do all I could before I hit 30. God forbid, if I was still working at 40 - well, said all the male executives, I should count myself incredibly lucky.  

Remember, even as we hit the Eighties and early-Nineties, there appeared little place for women over 40. So many Hollywood actresses were sidelined, while men such as Robert Redford and Sean Connery were celebrated for their wrinkles.  

But, quietly in the background, women such as Shirley, Joan and Cilla grafted away - still making music, writing books and presenting TV. Gradually people realised that despite their "old age" - if you can really call it that - these women weren't going anywhere.  

At the same time, glossy magazines started targeting the older readers, realising that with the everlengthening life expectancy, women wanted to look after themselves. And that, of course, is where plastic surgery comes in. I'll admit, this is where the argument gets tricky. Are the women using plastic surgery to recapture a lost youth or prolong their vivacity?  

At Shirley's party on Sunday night, I met Cindy Jackson, 52, a self-confessed devotee of plastic surgery. We've met before, and as we looked around the room, we both remarked on how well all the ladies at the party looked - some, perhaps, would admit to a few nips and tucks, others would claim a great diet and a dedicated personal trainer.  

But as we talked, it came down to one thing - looking after oneself.  

Now, while I am also a follower of plastic surgery - having had one facelift three years ago and Botox for the past seven years - I do so merely as a preventative measure. Personally, I think I look my age, and because I like acting, I choose a low-level of Botox in order not to freeze my forehead. I want my face to reflect how youthful I feel inside.  

However, Cindy freely admits that her use of plastic surgery is in order to turn back the clock. It is not a choice that I would make, but nevertheless I believe she has every right to do as she wishes.  

In fact, that freedom of choice is one of the reasons older women have so much power now. We have heard about the "grey pound", and more recently, "silver surfers", the older generation who frequently use the internet.  

But the reality is that in everyday life, we now have the option to look as old or as young as we like, and I bet you'd hardly find a woman at that party who wants to look her age, not when she feels so empowered and successful inside.  

And to me, that is one of the greatest changes in the past 20 years - wealth and success. When I was younger, I took advice on everything. I had control of my acting and television career but for everything else - my businesses, property and finances - I had to turn to men for advice.  

In the past few years, not only have I taken over everything myself, but I have seen a huge rise in the number of female entrepreneurs making millions from their own hard work.  

With that new-found money comes a freedom to indulge yourself and do exactly what you want when you want. For many of these women, their most successful years have come as they've turned 50 and they want to look as glamorous and powerful as they feel.  

That was particularly evident at the party - hundreds of women in the most beautiful, expensive dresses. Yet, interestingly, there was no competition and no feeling of one woman trying to outdo the rest.  

At 50, 60 and 70, there is little to outdo. Everyone looks their best and everyone has achieved their best. What I marvelled at most was how every woman there admired each other - not just for their looks but for their achievements.  

Yes, of course the car park was filled with Bentleys and £500,000 Rolls-Royces, but the difference at this party was that everyone had them, therefore there was no need to compete. And, just for the record, at least half the cars in the driveway belonged to the women.  

But what about the fashions? Again, that was one of the most liberating things about partying with a bunch of "older women", if you can call them that.  

The rule-books can be chucked out the window. Why worry about bingo wings or a bit of a flabby stomach? Why not just sling on the dress you've always dreamed of wearing and sod the critics. Twenty-year-olds might have firmer thighs and fewer wrinkles, but they can only dream of the innate confidence that comes with a life lived to the full.  

Over the past few years I have gone out maybe four times a year with Cilla, Rula Lenska and Shirley Bassey. We always hit the nightclub Tramp in London, and we are always the last ones to leave.  

That's one of the joys of "growing up". We don't care what other people think. Why should there be an age limit to enjoying yourself? The truth is I am happier now than I have ever been. Now, I no longer worry about anything more than enjoying myself. And if, in a few months' time, when I reach 50 and I stay out partying until the nightclub closes, well then I'll just crack a smile and raise a toast to the future. 

Daily Mail
19th December 2007