Tuesday, 15 March 2016

10 Things That Make Me Feel Like A Grandma

  1. Gmail.
  2. Having to explain to Lahndahn friends what a 'Sloane Ranger' is.
  3. C'mon guys. Stop pretending you're younger than you are.

  4. What schoolgirls wear these days.
  5. This picture was brought to you by my 'any excuse to gawp at Gemma Arterton syndrome'

    A contentious issue, I'm fully aware. In myyyy day, skirts had to be knee-length. Hair had to be tied back. Nowadays I see girls in skirts that barely cover their fannies (the ones who haven't shaken off their puppy fat clearly uncomfortable in too-tight waistbands it takes to achieve a shorter length), long tresses flowing behind them.

    I often also wonder if they look forward to a time when they leave school and realise they needn't wear as much make up as all that anymore.

  6. Discovering there's a club that starts at 3am.
  7. Miley Cyrus.
  8. No-one even pays attention anymore, but srsly. Wth.

  9. Gifs.
  10. I know neither how to make one appear or where other people get their seemingly endless supply of pertinent reaction ones.

  11. When everyone gets emoji updates before I do.
  12. Even though my stupid phone supposedly automatically does updates every time it connects to my Wi-Fi. (Yes I know there's a way I could probably turn that off but busy bloggin' mmm'kay).

  13. Still calling DBS checks CRB checks.
  14. "Did you mean...?"

    "You know what I fuckin' meant."

  15. Innovation wonderment.
  16. Inspired by this Questionable Content strip while I was browsing some tryna figure out where the hell I'd got up to.


    I get bugged out by new discoveries, new inventions, the speed at which information is disseminated, how much of all this I'm going to miss out on when my body packs in. Or will I live on somehow in a better cyborg body? I get frustrated that I'm no good at this stuff because I want to help researchers. I guess I'll just write about my awe instead like some kind of flailing 21st C Keats. Ode on a contraceptive implant. Sonnet on Google Translate.

    Sometimes I just freeze with my mouse pointer hovering above the Spotify search box, considering the vast array of music at my fingertips. How do you pick one artist out of all those? Sometimes it's easier to keel under the pressure and close it rather than make that weighty decision. And continue humming this which has been stuck in my head for weeks. Ahhh, yes. Comfortable, numbing familiarity.

    (And don't get me started on YouTube).

    (Or iPlayer).

    (Or Netflix).

  17. Overhearing somebody say Yuck provided the soundtrack to their youth.

    Boy howdy. I was 26 first time I saw them live, I think. First band in Brighton I saw live, actually, although it might've been the Vaselines. I was so excited that bands I'd actually heard of were playing in this new town I went to see them all before my back decided it had had enough. Nowadays it's like "Would you like a free ticket to the Zombies?" and I'm like "meh no thanks".

    Soundtrack to my youth - well, teen years - was The Smiths, The Manics, Jeff Buckley, Fiona Apple, Hole, Smashing Pumpkins...no doubt this is all making someone else feel like a grandparent and I'm GLAD. I'm pleased I could pass that annoying feeling on. Enjoy.

Friday, 11 March 2016

Fannying About

Does anyone I know seriously get their minge unhinged?

Or is it (and far more likely, I suspect) a habit of female journalists with too much money to burn?

I ask as I started reading Caitlin Moran's recent piece for Esquire, and got distracted by the following extract(ion):

I used Veet once, for this thing my school did at the end of A-Levels where all the students had to go on stage and collect a certificate and give thanks. The guys wore suits and the girls wore special frocks, most opting for white. I wore a semi-transparent blindingly white chiffon type of number featuring sparkling silver butterflies, a slutty lil thing I'd fallen in love with on a rare trip back to the UK at the time, from New Look. I think it cost about £10. That's what I considered 'fancy'. Still do. It's rare I spend more than a fiver on a dress, being a frequenter of charity shops, and more greatly enamoured of things which cost more, like booze.

So yeah, 18 years old and I used cream to banish by muff. Disliking the plucked chicken/shop mannequin look and the time spent achieving said look, I've been a razor lady ever since, with a landing strip left on BECAUSE I'M A GROWN WOMAN NOT A LITTLE GIRL DAMMIT.

Sorry, for a moment I lost track of myself and forgot I was blogging instead of shouting - as I should've done - at a guy I dated at uni who gestured towards my nether regions and asked if I hadn't considered it would look better with it all lopped off. If only he'd taken the time to explain how the sensations would've benefited me when we were getting down to business instead of considering his own male gaze...

Anyway. So I've creamed (HURRR) but never waxed. Twenty quid a month to pay a stranger to wax off your pubes. Really? Does anyone I know really do this? I'm not going to judge. I'm just curious. Maybe I just move in different circles, but I've never once text a girlfriend asking her what she's up to tonight, and receive that as an answer. And I'd like to think we can tell each other these things. I'm totally not going to spill our secrets on the internet.

I know girls that get facials, visit tanning salons, get their nails done, get piercings, tattoos, magnificent things done with hair on other parts of the body...but this has never once popped up in conversation. I've been reading about it in Sali Hughes' book as well recently with as much intrigue. It's a thing that comes up time and time again in beauty columns etc, but certainly not in my everyday interactions with ladyfrenz.

Actually I don't know anyone who's moaned about the pain of getting their eyebrows threaded either. Does it not happen as much as the beauty columnists (often whether it's consciously or otherwise, bribed by billion-pound beauty industries to sell their products and services) like to imply it should? Or are me mates just keeping schtum, like? Maybe it's such an everyday (or monthly) procedure that it's just not worth nattering about.

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

'Hold a Mirror Up'


An example: