Preying on the young

Article By: Lucy Hunt

When the general population sees an older woman entangled in a younger man, a brief E! Entertainment News-like image of Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher flitters betwixt the hippocampus and the giggling muscle mechanism of their brains.

It’s known as Cougarism and to many women, this is an art form involved in preying on boyish versions of the opposite sex.

The practice indicates the demise of the generationally-challenged partnership. But let’s be honest, the Cougarism is a stereotype that’s never really taken seriously. Which is why I haven’t told my parents that I am currently dating a much younger guy.

Let’s define “young”.

Demi and Ashton have whole decades between them, spanning the disco balls and flared pants of the 70′s, to Boy George’s shoulder pads and synthesizers of the 80′s.

The age gap between them goes further I’d imagine to include a time when Demi was singing “Can’t Touch This” in harem pants in front of the mirror at 13, while Ashton was merely a gamete — a sperm lurking in his father’s testicle. So there’s that, and there’s a few years…

When I was embracing Sambuca bottles and dying my hair platinum blonde so that it looked like Flora Margarine, and just about to finish high school, the guy that I was interested in was in Standard Six (I use the old reference to high school “grades” for obvious reasons). I was practicing Cougarism even then.

At least my Standard Six toy boy and I were of the same generation… But no matter the gap, Cougar relationships don’t seem to be readily embraced by parents. And I’m not entirely sure as to why. Perhaps large age gaps give the impression that the woman is going to need to have children soon. Her biological clock is ticking, and with this young nubile thing beside her, she’s a-gonna want to make babies.

Perhaps there’s a truth in that, although in the same breath, Cougars are usually young at heart — a vivacious type who enjoys a good party and isn’t looking to settle down any time soon. Hence the younger guy.

Either way, I can tell my parents everything about him, boasting about how gentlemanly, enthusiastic, that he comes from a great home and that they have a house in Zanzibar, but I stop just short of mentioning how old he is.

But it’s going to come up at some point, because mothers start getting suspicious after a while. Or like my mother does — ask multiple times while I look at the ceiling and mutter, “He’s in his twenties just like me. Anyway did I tell you about the time he did high jump for the Western Cape athletics side?”

These caring parentals of cougars, who believe this “teenager” is going to lead their daughter astray; this “boy” who laughs at fart jokes, and who, after lots of sweaty crazy sex (and there is a lot; and it’s good) with their daughter, will get her pregnant and leave her for a newer model.

Another side of approaching the “telling the parents” speech, is hitting it head-on. A fellow Cougar introduced her new stud to the family by selling it straight: “This is Floyd. He’s got a master’s in chemical science, opens doors for me, buys me flowers and he’s 24.”

The flinch moment is dealt a swift blow and it’s left at that. Luckily for her, there hasn’t been a problem since. But it must be said that Floyd is very well behaved.

Perhaps telling my parents his age after we’ve moved in together will soften the blow. Or maybe it doesn’t even matter. If, like my gran says, age is just a number, then where’s the problem again? I certainly can’t see one, especially when everything else falls into place. Hell, Cougarism might even be the secret to successful dating.