Design a Label

“Yes, we are all individuals”. Say it in unison,” Yes we are all individuals”.

This would truly be a nightmare for the marketing industry and those engaged in social engineering who insist on streaming and categorising us at every stage of our lives. Designations can be quite innocent, from New Borns to Pre-Schools which are quite cute labels through to the often derogatory Juvenile and Youff sectors. Whatever the label these are used to channel vast amounts of advertising monies from manufacturers and producers to the Media and other grateful recipients.

I believe that in my twenties I merged into the DINKY designation, by being newly married with a working wife and not quite ready to start a family. This was a definite step up, in my reckoning from  being referred to as a YUPPIE, although in the wilds of Lincolnshire where I was working at the time this was as far from a stereotypical truth as possible. My hard-wiring connection to the system was consolidated with a mortgage, the beginning of a pension plan and life insurance. I soon got a transfer from DINKY with the arrival of three children and joined the ranks of the self employed. I refuse to recognise the  term Entrepreneur in relation to anything I have done in business because of its negative image of involving dubious operations, unethical approaches and ultimately a wholly selfish and self centred approach euphemistically referred to as single mindedness or possessing a business brain. 

My wife and I, in our mid to late twenties became engrossed in a TV series called “Thirty Something”. The couples portrayed were a bit further on in their lives than we were but were having a fabulous time in business, family and social life, plenty of leisure time, disposable income and just plain fun. Of course, an American series and surprise, surprise the couples worked in Advertising with only beautiful people. We were above all, realists but now in our late forties we feel we certainly did our own thing and enjoyed it immensely in that decade. Our daughters are in their twenties away at Uni and our 16 year old son is making his way with us. The media machine tells me that I am approaching the Empty Nester stage. I cannot see this myself based on the statistics that your children are now well into their upper 30’s before they are in a position to buy their first property through no fault of their own if they have student loans and a deposit to deal with. On this possibility we are preparing to move house, a technical downsize but with every intention to have space for our offspring should it be needed until they are ready and able to branch off on their own or indeed at any stage in their own lives . The last few recessionary years have made a big dent in many family incomes and we all expect to have to work up to or even beyond statutory retirement age, conditional on being of sound body and mind and able to operate the next best thing1001.

I have just learned of a new pigeon-hole designation for me, but one I am more than happy to be a member of. This is the term MAMIL. I have actually had honorary entitlement to this designation for many years, even before the abbreviation was dreamt up, probably by some newly graduated but not quite shaving bright young thing entrusted by his seniors to find a new market to exploit. Apparently, it is thanks to the MAMIL socio-economic group that there has been an upsurge in certain business sectors much to the surprise of commentators and at variance from what the recession riddled statistics show for the rest of the economy. What are the signs to spot or even to identify yourself as a MAMIL?. 1)  Physical indications of an expanding stomach area or good old beer-gut. 2)  The illogical urge to take exercise but at the same time lacking the will power to do it.  3) A garage and a collection of bits that could be assembled to facilitate being a MAMIL. 4) No sense of fashion, modesty or shame whatsoever.

Finally 5) No appreciation of the limitations of your actual age or the likelihood of a coronary or popping a hernia. When do MAMIL’s show themselves? Well, in my case prime time is usually twice over a weekend. This depends on whether I have done all my chores and obligations  and most importantly on the weather. I am known as a fair-weather MAMIL. Where are we found? Well, there are two distinct species. The largest group are quite gregarious and like to go around in a large, like minded crowd often downhill or off road or culminating in a session at a pub or cafe. I belong to a more reclusive sub-group in preferring to go it alone and on the open road. More of a purist in pursuit of the essence of being a MAMIL. Some of us are just showy and posers with the latest gear and a brand new sparkling machine from Italy , France or the USA. I am a bit of a traditionalist, or in other words, all my gear is old and has seen better days. Some call it retro and it will however, in the scheme of things, soon be back in vogue. You guessed it, I am a Middle Aged Man In Lycra. A mobile advertisement for the most forgiving but at the same time the most unflattering apparel ever.