When I was a 16yr old, the women at work used to talk about what they were going to cook for dinner, their husbands and various boring domestic subjects. They were mostly 23/4/5 up to early 30s.
I thought they were really really old and I was determined never to be like them.
I and my friends referred to them as the 'old ladies'.
Naturally, my head and those of my friends were full of dreams about payday purchases, goss about lads, clubs and spending as much time as possible in the cloakroom titivating in case the heart-throb mechanic came into our office. Of course, he must have been aware but ignored us and carried on doing his job.
Marion Robinson used to warn us when he was on his way and a rush for the cloakroom would ensue. He had a Welsh sounding name but I've forgotten it ?...*NO*, just remembered, it was Glyn Jones. Wow! 60 years and I can still recall his name. ?