It’s not been a good week this week if you are female and over 30. First, the news broke that newsreader Selina Scott is to bring an age discrimination claim against Channel 5, as yet another older woman vanishes off our screens, as Joan Bakewell so eloquently wrote yesterday.

Today, the latest report on the glass ceiling was published – this depressing topic never goes away, but it’s even more depressing to learn that the oportunities for women have just become fewer. When girls consistently do better academically than boys, it’s galling that they will not be rewarded fairly as their careers progress.

But this afternoon, another story broke that made me want to cry. This is a story that most women won’t hear of until they drop into their newsagent in a month’s time and ask the shopkeeper if they have the latest copy of Eve. And then they will learn that Eve has just been closed down. Eve was one of the very few magazines that catered for women in their 30s and 40s. It was taken as read that the typical reader had not only a good job that she loved but that she probably had a partner and a mortgage and children, but not necessarily. Eve knew that the readers were interested in fashion, beauty and celebrity but also cars and gadgets and world affairs. It celebrated women setting up their own businesses and being happy in their own skin, whether married or single, straight or gay. And now it’s gone.

Most women in my age group are crying out for intelligent magazines like Eve. Last year, a group of women journalists (including me) had a lengthy debate on an email group about the lack of such publications. We know what we want to read but publishers are not keen to give it to us. Apparently, the reason is that advertisers don’t want to sell to us. This is plainly ludicrous given that so many women in their 30s and 40s are not only solvent, but making their own financial decisions and have disposable income. But sadly, if a magazine can’t pull in the advertising, it won’t survive.

The loss of Eve is the loss of another outlet for older women – we are becoming invisible, even though there are far more of us than the 20-somethings advertisers want to reach. Without Eve, the only magazines available for women either have an unhealthy obsession with celebrity flaws, diets and designer clothes, or assume we are all middle-class earth mothers with 5 children, a 4×4 and a day that consists of charity coffee mornings, preparing a dinner party for 10 and taking the kids to their violin lessons. The reality is that the vast majority of women in their 30s and 40s fit comfortable into neither of these two extremes but are somewhere in the middle.

If I want an intelligent read now, I’ll almost certainly be picking up a magazine that’s not aimed at women, while grabbing a copy of Grazia for a fashion fix, even though I can’t afford the designer threads it features (I don’t want them either, but that’s another story).

I still have a few years before I hit the big five oh, but I’m already aware that I’m starting to vanish. It’s one reason I work for myself – it may be against the law now to ask a job candidate their age, but you can be sure that 99% of the time someone younger will be offered the job (not least because they will be cheaper, even though they will lack our experience). Being self-employed means never having to suffer the indignity of rejection for a job because you know they think you’re too old.

When I go to the cinema I don’t want to see Jack Nicholson pawing at a 20-year-old starlet whom we are supposed to believe really wants to be with him. When I see Glenn Close or Helen Mirren having a credible on-screen relationship with Ashton Kutcher or Zac Efron, not because the storyline is about toyboys but because it’s taken as given that older women date younger men – why wouldn’t they, then and only then may I be convinced that we are still visible. Somehow, I suspect I’ll be waiting a very long time.

And in the meantime, the number of magazines catering for us has shrunk and the glass ceiling is thicker than ever.