OVER OPINIONATED: CONFUSED GIRLS

Being home allows me to catch up with the modern world via the sad and depressing world of reality TV. Having witnessed my first episode of 'Desperate Scousewives' I couldn't help but think 'yeesh, these girls don't half look rough with all that heavy foundation.' Never once in my life have I ever wanted to look like a man in drag, but apparently this resemblance is the key goal to their efforts. How laborious it must be to spend THAT LONG getting ready everyday to still end up looking terrible. And yes, they DO look terrible. Haggard, unnatural and devoid of any idividuality that might suggest an iota of personality under all that orange slap.  But the most repugnant aspect of their lives (and a reoccuring theme within this integrity deprived world of the faux celebrity) is their awful fixation with money, especially when considering potential suitors. Get a grip girls! Large wallet doesn't equate happy ever after! Did Disney teach you nothing?!  Combine this with an absolute and misguided belief that the more expensive something is, the more worthwhile or glamourous it must be brings a whole new level of meaning to the phrase 'money can't buy you taste.'

After ranting at my mum about not being able to understand this 'celebrity' culture and wondering who the hell buys the Katie Price paraphanelia let alone how people could ever find her a useful role model for young women (she's famous for her bouncey castle tits. Like, come on people!), I came across this (heavily abridged) attack on the insidious 'glamour' obsession of modern women in today's Guardian by Harriet Walker:

'Their style is more porn than practical and terrifyingly, we're told they exist in the same sphere as the rest of us. The rise of this sort of 'celebrity' doesn't just give rise to anorexia and insecurity- it also goes a bit further towards making us hate the every essence of being a woman. Our breasts are not big or pert enough, our skin not silky or hairless enough, the hair we haven't had compulsively waxed off must be supplemented with acrylic ringlets; our clothes must be tight and tiny....Our towns are filling up with pornified Barbies, with walking talking blow-up dolls. The cult of sex industry glamour, the beauty regime that takes up every waking minute, has become the most insidious aspect of our pbsession with celebrity culture.'

I couldn't have said it better myself, really, I couldn't.

OPINION: TWENTY-FUCKING-SIX

So ummm... I'm trying really, really hard to get to sleep. And I'm starting to drift off, if somewhat uneasily... when with a sickening lurch I'm pulled back to Wide-awake-land with a heart wrenching, pulse quickening, vomit inducing realisation... In forty seven sleeps I am going to be in my LATE twenties. Ergh. I will have to apply to the Over-25s category for my late in life X-factor pop career, I will be too old for a Young Person's Railcard, and, most devastatingly I will have to stop dressing like a 14 year old American high-school kid circa 1994. Ergh.

Oh! To be 21 and wild and reckless and have no responsibilities (well, none that I actually paid any attention too). Alas, those days are behind me... SIGH... If I could tell my younger self only a few things, this would be it...

1. HAVE MORE HANGOVERS
When you are old your hangovers get so awful that you will feel as if a whole army of rats are slowly gnawing away at your brain. You will be incapable of doing anything productive, and you will look like shit no matter how much Touche Eclat you put on. FACT. I remember when I used to down 3 shots in a row followed by a can of Red Bull, and repeat this action several times till I was unable to see. Somehow I would make my way safely to my bed; get up and go to work, have a Maccy Ds for lunch and miraculously feel right as rain and repeat the whole disgusting process the following night. I actually can't fathom how I ever used to have such amazing powers of bounce-back-ability as these days a couple of glasses of wine is enough to make me feel pretty feeble-minded the following morning. Your liver might cry out in dismay, but go out as much as possible.

2. FORGET BOYFRIENDS, THEY ARE A WASTE OF TIME
Boys are completely retarded till they reach their mid-20s, and even then it's debatable as to whether many of them are compos mentis. All that heartache, heartbreak, jealousy, guilt, pondering, pandering, pampering... ALL that energy could be used in a far more productive and useful way. For example... university work, reading, writing, hell knitting for all I care! Just forget boys. You'll meet the perfect one when you actually want to calm down anyway. Remember when you were watching that terrible film '300,' and about twenty minutes in you whisper filthily to your best friend, 'Now that's the sort of man I am going to marry!' well, it may just come true, and so all those other attempts at meaningful relationship are futile.

3. GIRLS ARE MENTAL
Now I'm not one for girl bashing, sisters in arms and all that, but the sooner you realise and accept that for every five amazing BFFs you have, one will turn out to be a complete mentalist. They will be a toxic friend who drags you down with her in whichever way possible, and the most intelligent thing to do is RUN AWAY. FAR, FAR AWAY.  At risk of sounding like an American talk show host, cut her off, and cut her out. At the time it will probably hurt more than any boy break-up you will ever have, but trust me, those crazy bitches are not worth your time.

And don't throw all night parties till silly o'clock the next morning when your good friends are trying to sleep downstairs. That's just lame. And they won't appreciate it.

4. SEX & THE CITY IS FUCKING RUBBISH
Don't waste your time trying to work out if you're a Carrie, or a Charlotte, or the slutty one, or the ginger one, because really Carrie was a selfish bitch and really, you wouldn't want to be any of them anyway.  If you had £400 quid to spend on shoes, it wouldn't be a pair of Manolos. And for those of you reading who think I'm committing the ultimate in girl-on-girl hate crime, I have seven words for you: SEX AND THE CITY THE MOVIE- TWO.

5. YOU WILL ALWAYS LOVE DESTINY'S CHILD
You will play 'The Writings on the Wall' at least once a week, and when you are in your, mid twenties you will still listen to it, you will still have bedroom discos to it and you will play it in the shop you run much to the delight of every woman and girl in there. Don't be embarassed of your terrible music taste. Embrace it. It will one day be cool again, well... sort of. You were always right about Beyonce being like, totally amazing, you were also always right about Michelle being weird, but you were wrong about Kelly. K-Row will surprise you, and delight you, and you will love it.