Being Old but Not Ugly

Today in the supermarket, I saw a woman with a really wrinkled face who was truly beautiful, and I thought of my mother and how beautiful she became.  She had been beautiful as a young woman, and then I saw her as less beautiful for a few years, but in her seventies and eighties, she became beautiful again.  My question is "Why can't I do that?"  Why can't I be old and beautiful instead of old and ugly?  All I know is that I can't, at least not yet.

Yesterday after seeing American Jerusalem:  Jews and the Making of San Francisco with Olga and Mikhail, I took the L-Streetcar back home.  When a young woman stood up, I asked a white-haired woman whether she would like to sit down, and she looked at me and asked, "Why?" I really think she was starting to say, "Why should I sit instead of you?  Do you honestly think you're younger?"  Instead she sat down and, gathering her wits about her, asked, "How do you know that I'm older?"  I said something about shoes.  But I didn't even try to finish.  Years ago, thanks to my mother who had The I  Hate to Cook Book and The I Hate Housekeeping Book, I read Peg Bracken's I Try to Behave Myself book, which explained that if you're not sure whether the older person you're offering your seat to will be insulted that you recognize her as older, you should look at her shoes.  If they have high heels, she obviously cares more about appearance than comfort, so you should not offer her your seat. But if the woman has on comfortable shoes, she'd rather be comfortably seated than mistaken for a younger-than-you-woman.

After the white-haired woman was seated, a young guy gave me his seat and said he was good at balancing because it was like skate-boarding.

I want to be treated as a senior, but I don't want to be seen as ugly.  Just old.  Please!