Sam: The Silverback Thing

In African packs of gorillas there is one dominant male. He is older, bigger and gets all the young nubile lady gorillas while the youngans wait in the wings. He is the Silverback. The Australian Film Ten Canoes, shows how some aboriginal tribes take the same approach, the old fella gets lots of wives, including the youngest and best looking.

I think the Silverback thing is alive and well in London today. Look at men who hit their mid-life crisis, they buy a Porsche and start trying to date 20 year olds. It is surprising the ones who can be successful.

One of my clients in his 40s intellectually wants a mature worldly woman, yet is consistently attracted to women in their early 20’s. A variety of studies have also shown that women are attracted to older men with power and resources, while men are attracted to women at their fertile peak.

Now this whole Silver back thing has interested me intellectually, but for the first time I have actually experienced it.

I was out dancing for a mates birthday and noticed what seemed to be a 20 year old flirting with me on the dance floor. Later I noticed another very attractive 20ish year old giving me some really blatent green lights inviting me to chat her up.

Both times I pinched myself, checked to see if there was hollyoaks look alike standing next to me, as these were the type of girls who wouldn’t have even given me a second glance in my early 20s. If I didn't study flirting body language as a living I would have dismissed it out of hand.

There is a real temptation to snipe at the sad old man and the silly young girl. But now, (highly suspiciously when hitting Silverback age) I’m starting to wonder if it really is a bit of a natural biological phenomena and secretly wished I used some grey hair dye in my 20s.

Are Silverbacks really attractive? And are there any other Silverbacks out there who have noticed the same thing?

Sam: Oh shit I'm Old

Todgers, I’m wondering if you have had the ‘Oh shit I’m old’ moment yet.

Mine came just the other night. I was out with one of my old clubbing buddies celebrating his 30th birthday. The first sign of trouble was that I started involuntarily wincing as my friend constantly mentioned his 30th birthday and wife to every new person he met - who were all clearly just out of school.

Next was a strange moment on the dance floor, with myself in a shirt (quite stylish I thought) surrounded by girls who were dressed just like Amy Winehouse but younger and without the bleeding toes. Looking at the guys there I started to feel distinctly out of place since I wasn’t wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with skulls and cross bones and my hair wasn’t long and stylishly moussed.

Then there were my fellow pals mumbling to each other ‘I wish the music was a bit more funky’ (translation, I wish they would play music which is now 5 years out of fashion).

It was awful, I felt a bit like a dirty old man hanging out at a school gate. Not what you want on a night out where I was supposed to be out with my mates, having a good dance and celebrating his birthday. I’d like to blame him and his choice of venue – but no solace there. This club was where we all used to end up on Sunday morning at the end of our very big weekends. And I’m sure there was more funky house music then.