This summer, District wrinkles are under assault with the opening of D.C.'s "first ever botox boutique." The Georgetown-based Luxxery Express Medical Spa will feature no-appointment-necessary injectable fillers for "D.C.’s on-the-go, beauty-driven community"—a local demographic that's been ignored for too long.

The man behind the needle is Dr. Ayman Hakki, who, according to a press release, "saw two alternatives as a career: become a plastic surgeon like Ivo Pitangue whose work on Sophia Lauren popularized cosmetic surgery or become an architect like Frank Gehry whose work evokes both pop culture and high art." Thankfully for the nomadic beauty-driven community, Hakki's "love of beauty and the human body" won out. The choice paid off: The presser touts him as "the first D.C. metropolitan-area plastic surgeon whose artistry was featured on MTV’s 'True Life: I Want Breast Implants.'" He'll be available to stuff your face at 2141 Wisconsin Ave. NW starting July 1.

The AARP has finally figured out a way to deter all those crazy tweens from sexting their chastity away: Inform them that a bunch of totally old people are doing it, too. In the November issue Online at AARP.org, reporter Jessica Leshnoff interviews a handful of first-name-only seniors who admit to sending photos of their boobs to other old people through text messages.

There's Roger, the 59-year-old divorcé who need only tell a date that she has "amazing breasts" to be rewarded with an unsolicited photo of them. There's Jill, 50, who suggests sexting dirty thoughts while "sitting in a restaurant waiting for your food . . . and no one knows what you're doing." And then there's sexting-skeptical Richard, 66, who received a sext while "with a group of colleagues after hours at a restaurant," and "surprised himself by being less than thrilled."

These aging sexters have got a good half-century on the subjects of most sexting paranoia pieces, but their story is the same. The "old people are sexting" trend story operates under the same premise as the teenage sexting story. Find a group the public doesn't enjoy considering being sexually active (minors, the elderly). Reveal that they are sexually active. Then, add technology—the second-scariest topic next to sex— and voilà—something else for David Brooks devotees to clutch their pearls over.

The AARP isn't slut-shaming the elderly here, but it does insert a good deal of skepticism into the piece. After all, it wouldn't be a "sexting" article without a degree of alarm. Elder sexting can't be policed through the traditional avenues—you can't ground them, and you can't threaten to slap them with absurd child pornography charges. But surely, there must be some way to convince old people that sending dick photos may not be the way to spend their lunch hour? "But beware, the experts warn," Leshnoff writes. "Sexting has its dangers, too, especially when it comes to people in the dating world."

Those dangers? "False advertising." "Too much, too soon." "Not everyone likes receiving a sexually charged text." Someone could steal them and put them on the Internet. And in a sick twist of fate: "the possibility of your teenage kids innocently flipping through your texts." The article ends on a downer, via Richard: After actually receiving the money shot, "It was like the fun kind of went out of it," he says.

But despite the pitfalls, the AARP has recognized that old people will probably send photos of their genitals anyway, so we may as well help them sext safely. Their tips: Slowly transition from "I still want to go to the prom with you" to "Forget chocolate, I am craving the taste of you!" Take care to periodically delete nude texts every once in a while. And always remember to "keep expectations based on sexting in check."

I really like that. Our culture has a tendency to infantilize men and women "of a certain age," and that includes treating their sex lives as either an unspoken taboo or an inflated cause for concern. I get it: My parents get AARP magazine, and I don't want to think about them giving these sexting tips a text ride, either (except for the part where they delete the evidence). And the idea of my grandmother sending a perfectly chaste text message is hilarious to me. That being said, aging can present some pretty specific challenges to a person's sex life—and, like with teens, the worst we can do is refuse to talk about it.

Photo via Ethan Prater, Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0

In Wurtzel's latest essay, "Failure to Launch: When Beauty Fades" (published in this month's Elle), Elizabeth Wurtzel is depressed again. This time, because she is "old" (41)—and also, maybe, secretly, because she's spent the greater part of those years getting shit thrown at her face by epic douchebags. While aging has brought Wurtzel fame, book deals, and a J.D. from Columbia, it has also stolen the precious glint of youth from her eyes, and left her pining for her Original Epic Douche—the beautiful peppermint-flavored-foot-massaging, bottle-chucking graduate student douchebag GREGG. The essay is, in typical Wurtzel fashion, funny, sad, honest, and problematic.

AMANDA: hello!

SADY: hello lady. your beautiful dream of talking to me while i'm all hopped up on the cough syrup is about to come true. and also we get to talk about how wacky elizabeth wurtzel (still) is! is she not wacky?

AMANDA: she is, Sady. I was introduced to her wackiness at a tender young age, when my mother bought me Prozac Nation. I was maybe 13, so I loved it.

SADY: yes. I recall reading Bitch in junior high. and hiding it from my mom, due to its provocative cover!

AMANDA: looks like she hasn't "aged well," though! ha ha ... hmmm.

SADY: well... she still has mermaid hair! actually, this article is weird, because it is like, "i am old and ugly now. i should have settled down. however, i am neither old nor ugly, and still have lots of dates and sex." so, when you're reading it, it's like... "sad! umm... happy! umm... happysad?"

AMANDA: but those dates want her for what she used to be (young and not ugly), which leads me to believe, you know, it may be a personal problem. but i think she admits that throughout.

SADY: yeah. i think she still misses gregg. can we talk about how gross gregg, the perfect boyfriend, sounds? is that cruel? "sensitive, an inveterate graduate student who used to rub my feet at the end of the day with a lovely pink peppermint lotion from the Body Shop."

AMANDA: yeah, who was surprised when he threw a bottle at her face?

SADY: that was a shocking twist! he also pronounced that he was "her only chance at happiness," and that she would now fail at life, due to not dating GREGG. GREGG is a witch! He laid a curse on her!

AMANDA: i found that part really interesting. a few of the commenters were chastising her for "bragging" about her looks, but i thought she made an interesting point about societal expectations for young women ... i definitely identified with that, not with the "beautiful" part, but with the "smart young woman" part. not that i'm old and ugly or anything, but it was always like "you're so smart, why are you [with him]?" or you're so smart, why [aren't you happy]?" stuff like that. and in her case, it turned out to be, you're so smart and beautiful, why aren't you with someone like GREGG who doesn't fucking understand you at all and who does not make you happy? (and throws bottles). (like all your other boyfriends).

SADY: yeah, seriously. i mean, i get that she felt like the world was offered to her – and it was! she was elizabeth wurtzel! – and it still didn't make her happy, and that would be enough to send anyone into a tailspin. i can identify with that. but also: tying it to your looks seems to gloss over sooooo many of the other problems. like, there's this undercurrent of abusive bottle-throwing (or lamp-throwing, or frying-pan-chasing-with) relationships that i think it would be worthwhile to get into. yet she seems to blame herself for MAKING the dudes be all abusive, like so: "Now that I am a woman whom some man might actually like to be with, might actually not want to punch in the face—or, at least, now that I don’t like guys who want to do that to me—I am sadly 41." Ummmm... maybe they did that because they were jerks? Also: maybe it's good that you DIDN'T STAY WITH ANY OF THEM? Due to the jerk thing?

AMANDA: yeah man. i'm not sure she takes away the same lesson from GREGG—beautiful, perfect, peppermint foot-rubbing, complete jerk—that we might, either. Surely, she can't be serious that she ACTUALLY THINKS her one chance of happiness was with GREGG?

SADY: Right? I mean, she's all like, "if only I had stayed with GREGG – a dude i was so unhappy with that I cheated on him, multiple times, and also he broke into my computer, and also he threw a bottle at my face – I would be happy." Um, probably not. Probably you'd be begging him to throw away his damn hemp necklaces. And then banging the mailman. Interesting fact: Elizabeth Wurtzel passed the BAR EXAM! She became a LAWYER, for a LAW FIRM! I find it interesting that this whole "I wasted my life" thing does not take into account the fact that she has had two separate careers that require a pretty tremendous amount of work and intelligence to pursue. Apparently, if you're not with GREGG or a GREGG analogue, it's all for nothing.

AMANDA: points for honesty i guess

SADY: yeah, and wurtzel always gets those points. i just think it's weird that we have this narrative for women – and you see these pieces ALL THE TIME, it's not just her – that are like, "i once thought i could date around and not settle down and pursue my career, but now I know I should have SETTLED. For I am SAD, SAD, SAD."

AMANDA: yeah, but based on her earlier work, i mean, she's been sad throughout. the essay is just a sequel: "Sad at 40." that's not to belittle it — i like her work — but given what we know, i can't say that 40 has much to do with it.

SADY: exactly. i like a lot of what wurtzel has done, too. yet: it doesn't make sense to position oneself as a cautionary tale about regret and wasted youth, if your youth was also spent feeling sad. i guess it's just the positioning of this piece – as a one-more-lady-regrets-not-settling thing – that i have a problem with. that and the "i've finally learned how to make dudes not punch me in the face, because before it was my fault that they did that" thing.