I don't look like my mum. But I have an increasing stash of plastic pots, tubs and jam jars. I don't know why! I clear them out every so often (or give them to Mum, heh) but they keep on coming ... I swear this pot-collecting mania began the very same day as my menopause. (January 22nd, 2006, since you ask.)
I've gone apple-shaped, which means I wasted years and £££s doing gym stuff that was specifically designed to keep me in shape as I aged. And, despite having the pelvic floor of a carpenter's clamp, I pee at unexpected moments 
On the up side, I've just read a fabulous Margaret Drabble story about a woman who decided to 'let herself go' - and, instead, bloomed. I decided to channel her at a nerve-wracking party last week: I wore a brightly-coloured tent, flat shoes, minimal makeup and frizzy hair. It worked!
From now on, I'm going for Large, Loud And Blooming Proud 
Does anybody any little pots, tubs or jam jars?