I think I’m hot. And that's OK.

I want all women to relish their own hotness

On Hastings Pier in the summer for a daytime dance party.

There’s a big thing that I’ve discovered about life at 47 that I haven’t told anyone.

If I’m really honest, there are plenty of days when I feel like I’m still hot.

Actually – no. Let me rephrase that.

I am hot. There’s no ‘still’ about it.

Sure, there are times when I wish I’d relished the smooth skin of my youth, or look at my bare face and yearn for darker eyelashes. But on the whole, I feel like I’m moving into a new era. A hot woman era, where most of the time when I catch a glimpse of myself in a shop window I think ‘uh huh’ (oh come on - I’m not the only one who does this!).

Writing these sentences make me slightly cringe because women are not allowed to look at themselves and think ‘phwoar’.

We are taught, somehow, that we are not meant to admire ourselves or love our bodies for all the beautiful things they’ve done and do for us, whatever age we’re at. We are not allowed to be attractive and ‘know it,’ because that would be arrogant or over-confident.

We must wait for compliments from men to affirm our attractiveness and we must be insecure or shy about our bodies until someone else tells us we look good.

And for years that’s how I felt. Decades, in fact.

But two things this week have made me celebrate my own hotness without external validation, or indeed giving a shit about what anyone else thinks - and I want all women to feel like they can relish theirs too.

And if you need some hotness inspiration, here is a brief list (feel free to add yours): actors Tracee Ellis-Ross and Jennifer Coolidge, comedian Celeste Barber, writer Candice Braithwaite, broadcaster Anita Rani, writer

Poorna Bell

, activist and sex writer

Suzanne Noble

and of course

Pamela Anderson

who has redefined her hotness on her own terms. This isn’t simply a list of women whose attractiveness I admire, these are women who seem to me to be joyfully in their bodies.

First off: salsa dancing. If you want to find a place where women celebrate their own hotness, go to a salsa night. You’ll find glamorous veteran dancers in form-fitting sequins with perfect footwork, curvy teachers in all-black with gold sparkling dance shoes, and women in jumpsuits and trainers styling it out.

These are a group of women in their 20s to 60s who appear to love their bodies and adore showing them off - and the dance itself positively encourages it, because it’s focused on the hips. The salsa dancefloor is a place where women gloriously take up space - and they look magnificent.

I’ve been dancing salsa on and off for about 15 years, with various levels of confidence. I love how the music makes me want to shimmy and show off as I’m twirled around the dancefloor.

So it was with this in mind that I put on my favourite sparkly backless top and went to shake my booty last night. After zhuzhing my hair in the loo at the event, I had a little dance to myself in the mirror and had that little ‘uh huh’ moment - more of which later.

The second thing that got me thinking about celebrating hotness was the brilliant Cindy Gallop, a very successful New York ad executive and entrepreneur who was a guest on the podcast We Need to Talk, with Paul C Brunson, and I highly recommend listening to it because she compellingly debunks everything society teaches us about conventional relationships - and the dangerous myth of “the one”. Food for thought if you’re single. (For more on Cindy, read her Substack newsletter

Dear Cindy

and watch her TED talk.)

What struck me the most is how Cindy talked about not giving a shit about what people think of her appearance and the confidence that gives her when dating (much) younger men - she is 64 and single.

She said: “The most important thing for any older woman to know is that younger men think we’re absolutely bloody wonderful, okay? I have never been called beautiful as often as since I began dating younger men … Because older women make the mistake of feeling insecure about their bodies,” she said.

“What people are attracted to is you, and then your body is hot as hell because it’s yours.” I loved Cindy’s total and utter celebration of herself, and the way in which she encourages other women to believe in their own hotness.

So back to my salsa night.

I got chatting to a man during a dance, and afterwards we chewed the fat about why we love to dance and how it allows us to be in our bodies, not our minds.

Then he asked how old I thought he was.

‘Oh, we’re playing that game,’ I said, smiling.

I guessed he was mid-30s - and it turns out he was nearly 42.

Then I asked how old he thought I was.

‘Late 30s’, he said.

When I told him my age, he said: ‘You look great, though.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘But there’s no ‘though’ about it.’

And there you have it. I celebrate my hotness - and there’s no ‘though’ or ‘still’ or ‘for my age’ about it. I hope you can celebrate your hotness too.

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