Too old for the party, too young to leave—the paradox of middle age in advertising

When I started in advertising as an idealistic young account executive with a master’s degree but no idea what a DL envelope was, I firmly believed I’d be out of the industry by 40 (horrifyingly, I considered this ancient at the time). What I’d be doing instead was unclear, but what was clear was that this was no country for old(er) women. It was no place for family, empathy or work-life balance.

Now, I’m on the wrong side of 40. And a mother. And not ready (or able) to retire. And I’m still in advertising. And somehow, being a woman has become a power move in its own right (God help the middle-aged white men), and I’ve learned that being the toughest in the room isn’t the only way. But I’m worried.

Because I exist in a strange no man’s land—or should I say, no person’s land. I’m no longer young, and with that comes benefits. I earn more, have years of experience, know how to handle challenging situations, and, importantly, I know myself. And although I’m not old yet, I feel it coming. I can’t work all night like I used to, I don’t like going to events, and I’ve embraced a flat shoe and business sneakers with gusto.

So, I’m somewhere in the middle. Literally middle-aged—the most horrific of ages. I no longer cry in the toilets at work, but I do in my therapist’s office. I still stand for older people on public transport, but I also choose where I sit in a restaurant based on the back support of the chairs. And I spend the GDP of a small country on products like retinol and snail mucus to ensure I pass for a younger person. But in a “natural” way, of course—in my mother's words, you don’t want to be “mutton dressed as lamb”.

We are an industry obsessed with optics and what’s next. Neither aligns well with ageing. I feel lucky that my background is in digital work and CX, meaning my skill set is more relevant today than ever. I love technology, embrace new trends and love how our industry evolves. These things keep me engaged and help keep me employed.

But it won’t be forever.

Since becoming GM of an agency, I’ve had multiple people I used to work with (who are at least 15 years older than me) reach out, applying for jobs well below their experience level. And I remember working with those people and fighting with them to consider the website as much as the TV ad. And while there is no schadenfreude here, I know that many of them didn’t do what was needed to stay relevant.

And while I agree that there is a great loss of talent and experience that comes with ageism in our industry, I also believe the onus is on us as individuals to stay relevant and hold ourselves strictly accountable for this. Do we add value? And that value can’t just be measured in “years of experience”. It needs to be applied and translated into our new, ever-changing world. If you don’t keep up with media, technology and trends, it’s on you. I don’t want a doctor who isn’t across the latest research, so why would I want a creative who made some great TVCs back in the day but doesn’t understand TikTok? AI isn’t going to take our jobs—not mastering it will.

Advertising can discard people too quickly, and I know some of my own team often suffer from the lack of mentors and real-world experience that is needed. It’s a delicate balance because there comes a point where, whether experienced or not, no one wants the old person in the room. There will be a time when all the Adidas Sambas and Botox can’t hide the fact that I’m not the right person to be giving advice on micro-influencers or the impact of AI on search.

It’s not today, but it will come.

And one thing that I haven’t lost, regardless of age, is what has kept me going in advertising all this time—I’ve still got that dog in me. Yes, it’s older, wiser and much more prone to lying on the couch than it once was, and it doesn’t like going out when it’s raining. But it knows that when you stop learning, you start dying. And that is actually the absolute joy of what we do—always being part of what is new and evolving.

While dementia is not currently considered a hereditary disease, with a mother and grandmother who both lived with the disease from the late '60s and for heartbreaking decades afterwards, I don’t believe I’ll be firing on all cylinders well into my dotage. I’m prepared for this—not least by saving for a one-way trip to Dignitas. However, I’m not prepared for this industry to be done with me just yet. I’ll keep learning, embracing the changes in our industry, and lying about my age when people ask (and on my dating profile).

As it turns out, advertising is a place for old(er) women—at least, for those who know how to make it work for them.

Alison McKinnon is the general manager of Melbourne's independent creative agency, Town Square.