Category Archives: Life

10 Reasons why spending Valentine’s Day alone is the best

Posted on by

Does anyone actually like Valentines Day?

I’m yet to hear of one of my attached friends say that they are looking forward to spending money on over-priced restaurant food and cards with empty sentiments. Sure, being with the one you love on the 14th of Feb must be nice, but does anyone actually care?

5 years of spending V-Day alone, has been 5 years of total bliss when it comes to this fake-romance side of life, and here’s why:

 

1. I mean, really, you are your own Valentines by default.

 

2.You don’t have to share booze. A six-pack of beer means just that, a six-pack.

 

3. Same goes for food. You don’t have to put up with anyone touching your mac n’ cheese. Result!

 

4. If you want to bust a nut, you can do so in minutes, using only your hand. Plus you don’t have to go through the long drawn out process of dealing with someone else’s orgasm.

 

5. All that money you should be spending on a gift for your loved one? Hell, you can spend it on yourself!

(Culietta headpiece £50)

 

 6. You don’t have to tell someone you love them when you don’t.

7. You don’t have to face the outside world if you don’t want to. In fact, you don’t even need to get dressed.

 

8. You can watch any film you like, and without someone making stupid comments throughout.

 

9. Or you can dance around your room while listening to your favourite tracks on blast (Hello Destiny’s Child, I’ve missed you!).

 

10. Instead of celebrating your love of someone else, you can celebrate the love you have for yourself, because let’s face it, that’s what you should be celebrating anyway.

❤ Happy V-Day ladies! ❤

Make Your Move

Posted on by

Make Your Move is an campaign from Missoula’s Intervention in Action Project, a group of community organizations dedicated to ending sexual violence.

These adverts highlight sexual assault awareness by using menacing slogans with twist endings that show that any of us are capable of intervening in uncomfortable situations.

Instead of reminding women not to endanger themselves (which should be obvious), they are reminding people to step in when if they witness a potentially dangerous situation.

Says Missoula’s Intervention in Action Project:

Our campaign’s goals are to: 1) Engage men and women as allies to prevent sexual violence by increasing awareness and education about the dynamics of sexual violence and 2) Encourage bystanders to foster healthy non-violent relationships and interrupt attitudes, language and actions that support sexual violence.

Check out another eye-catching campaign by Sexual Assault Voices here.

Don’t be THAT Guy

Posted on by

The simplicity of these adverts deserve a minute of appreciation. Just because she doesn’t say no, doesn’t means she’s said yes. Unfortunately situations like this are all too common. If you have, or know anyone who has been affected by sexual assault click here.

Dating Online

Posted on by

Before we get in to this, let’s get one thing straight… This is not a feature about online dating, if you want to know about finding “The One “online then sign yourself up to match.com, or e-harmony (or Tinder if you just want a fuck). No, this is about dating online; I’m talking about going through your friend’s profile and picking out future husbands, I’m talking about instant messaging some boy you met three years ago and building up a relationship, I’m talking about living out your life on-line so your ex-man feels shitty that he dumped you and stomped on your heart (the utter bastard).

It’s a totally different world to the one our ‘rents grew up in. Gone are the days of meeting your prospective partner at a dance, and him walking you home with only the possibility of a hand-hold. Gone are the long walks, love letters and months of whispering sweet nothings to each other until you finally give in to a kiss. Now, it seems that if we want to meet a guy without picking up a weirdo at a bar, we’ve got to get ourselves online and promote, promote, promote! Think of it like job-hunting; searching for hours, uploading flattering images on Facebook and making sure your tweets are witty, flirty, but not desperate.

A couple Saturday nights ago I was sat in my pyjama’s with a BFF of mine, Amy. We were doing what most 20-something girls do when there’s not much on telly; searching though each other’s friends on Facebook and stating who we’d do, wouldn’t do, and who we’d have to get paid to do…

One of Amy’s friends (let’s call him Brummie Boy) caught my eye straight away and I declared “Yes, yes, OH HELL YES!” when we stumbled on a photo of him, which of course led Amy to tell me his whole sexual history (he’s single but still fucking his ex in case you’re interested). This got me thinking, how many times have I been sat with friends doing this, and they’ve asked about cute boys in my friend list? Too many, that’s how many… If you’re not loved up, or playing the field then perhaps the best way of meeting a prospective is to trawl through your friend’s friends and suggest a cupid-like hook-up.

In recent months I’ve not been using Facebook much in general, one because it seems that everyone on there is simply promoting a load of shit I don’t care about, and two because I’m a self-confessed Instgram junkie. But something happened a couple of weeks ago that has made me now check Facebook every third second of my day…

It was a cold, lonely Tuesday night and I was sat at home watching my cat chew on her tail. Suddenly, I received a notification on my phone saying I had a friend request from some

boy I didn’t know. Convinced it was a random spam account I left it, until boredom and curiosity got the better of me… As soon as I clicked on his profile I realised not only did I know him, but I’ve also done him. Over summer I was in New York and got inebriated with a friend of mine in a local Brooklyn bar. That night ended back in Manhattan, in an apartment, in a bed with a boy. I left early without remembering his name (I was sure it was Adam), and headed back in to Brooklyn to crack on with my day. I must admit that I liked this boy a lot; he was hot, and funny and nice, but seen as I was leaving a few days later I thought there was not much point in going for breakfast with the kid. Now, here I was almost 5 months later, on the other side of the world and the one-night-stand had found me online and wanted to be my friend (surely a marriage proposal is next right?!). What has ensued has been daily messages, ranging from sex talk to genuine kindness and eager to get to know one another. Suddenly I’ve become one of those girls that checks Facebook religiously and never, ever closes the tab on her browser just incase on-night-stand boy has sent me something.

There is something to be said for the wonderful accessibility that the Internet brings us. It used to be that a one-night-stand was just that – one night. Now, if you do try to be that mysterious woman who leaves a man begging for more, he can just go online and direct message you (while simultaneously whacking one out to your photos). But is that a good thing? What about if you don’t want to ever hear from that freak who made you do weird things to him?

Last year I started dating (and by dating I mean having regular sex) with a guy I met in a bar. The sex was great, he wasn’t. Quickly I had an odd-ball obsessive on my hands who would not leave me alone. All was fine and well for the first month, until I realized that even if I wanted to get him out of my life, he would make damn sure that he’d be staying in it… Although I deleted and blocked him on Facebook, there were regular ‘likes’ on my Instagram photos, and replies to any tweet I dare send. He could see everything I was doing on a day-to-day basis and began acting like he was part of my life. Scary.

The amount of personal stuff I disclose on social media means that anyone can learn everything about me, and visa-versa. If I want to see what (or who) my ex-man is doing, all I need to do is type his name in Google and get on to his twitter. I have made a conscious effort to never look at ex’s profiles, after a four year relationship ended horrifically and the boy I loved began posting photos of him and his (many) girls on Facebook. Nights were spent trawling through his feed learning that some of the girls overlapped in to our relationship. Years of love went down like a sack of shit as I learnt more and more of his infidelities. Friends of mine thought this was a good thing (“See, it shows you that he’s an arsehole!”) and perhaps it was, however I can’t help that feel ignorance is bliss. It used to

be that you would break up and not contact each other than perhaps a phone call now and again. You could live a peaceful existence pretending that your ex was spending his time crying alone, regretting ever leaving you. Now, you scroll through photos on Instagram to try to get your mind of the break-up, only to be confronted with images of your boy at strip clubs, on dates and generally looking like he’s never even known you.

When thinking about writing this piece, it seemed obvious that the best place to start was on Facebook its self. I posted a status asking people to get in touch with any experiences they’ve had with such matters. I was inundated with girls (and boys) messaging me about their dating experiences on the World Wide Web. The main thing that seems to be occurring is people being dumped on-line (excuse me?!) and finding out about affairs through twitter or tumblr. Friends, friends of friends and even strangers have told me stories of how their ex-partners have sent them online messages explaining that it’s not working out. One girl even mentioned that her man tweeted at her saying “I’m sorry. It’s over. #breakup”. Come on now! What kind of world is it that people think that’s acceptable??

Oh, and let’s not forget the poor souls that think everything is fine and dandy in their lives until they receive an e-mail, or direct message from someone who’s been shagging their man. Unfortunately, I’ve been a shoulder to cry on for far too many friends who have found out about affairs when the mistress has decided to take matters online.

There is no denying that with the way social media is going, it is so much easier to find out about extracurricular activity, and in turn, for said adulterer to not face up to the consequences and having a face-to face chat. But there seem to be plus sides too, many of my friends have got to know their partners (and hence fall for them more) by stalking them. If you have an interest, you can join Facebook groups or search hash tags and find a ton of men who share some common ground. Plus, if you do like guy you can always check him out online and if he’s single then you’ve got the green light! So maybe social media is the new speed-dating for people that are too busy to actually go out and meet anyone? Maybe the future consists of “Roses are Red…” tweets and marriage proposals though instant messaging? And maybe that’s ok? I, for one am happy for any romantic gesture, be it on or off-line. So, when my future baby daddy asks for my hand in marriage via Twitter, I’ll be sure to re-tweet it for you all to see…

Getting off the drink when you’re not an alcoholic.

Posted on by

Despite what my mother thinks, I am not an alcoholic.

Yes, I like to drink a lot, every night. And sometimes it’s true that I wake up and the first thing I crave for is a cool beer, or a shot of whiskey in my coffee. But that’s not because I’m dependent on it, it’s simply because a lot of the time life is too boring to face without a little pick-me-up.

I’ve often thought that perhaps I do drink too much, and perhaps I need to cut down, or in fact get off the stuff all together. I deal well with drink, never get too rat-arsed, can mostly handle a hangover, and it’s never effected my ability to get up and go to work the next day. However, there are two things that I have lost from my boozy ways: My figure and my money.

It’s no doubt that I have put on weight due to the amount I drink, and after documenting my struggle with weight loss on here, (yeah, I know I haven’t updated it… so, sue me!), it’s become glaringly obvious that the only REALLY unhealthy thing I put in my body is alcohol.

And my loss of money? Well, heck, booze is expensive y’all, especially in London!

Seen as it’s Stoptober (smokers are being encouraged to give up ciggies for the month of October) but I don’t smoke, I decided that I’ll give up booze… well, I mean, I might have one little glass of Prosecco, or French Martini, but DEFIANTLY no beer!

Wish me luck….

“Haute Mess” By Steven Meisel

Posted on by

There has been uproar over the new spread for Vouge Italia shot by Steven Meisel. While some would regard it as fabulous, over-the-top, in-your-face-fun, others see it differently.

The spread has been accused of racial stereotyping, with the set-up and styling causing many to wonder if the shoot was intentionally poking fun at African American and Latino culture.

As Vibe magazine puts it:

Many are raising an eyebrow at the photos because the women seem to be projecting some stereotypes. For example the hair styles of the models can be seen at almost every black hair show.  It is very clear that the theme of the shoot was “ghetto”, “ghetto fabulous” to be exact. However, in trying to achieve fabulous, it wandered in to ignorance.

I will give Vogue Italia the benefit of the doubt that it was not their intention to be racist or offend anyone, but let’s keep it real for a minute: How many white girls [or any other ethnic backgrounds for that matter] do you know that dress  or look like this?  Exactly.  Racist may be a little harsh of a word to describe this editorial , but it was definitely done in poor taste and judgement.

However, when looking at what Vogue Italia had to say about the shoot on it’s website, it seems that the story was based more on the Drag Queen culture:

Haute Mess might take its inspiration from messy drags: untidy, dishevelled, counter-intuitive cross-dressers.

When the queens define themselves – as well as their clothes – as “messy”, it is a queer assertion. According to the theories of Judith Halberstam, a cross-dresser initially had to pass as either a man or a woman; people often forget that the word “drag” comes from “dressed as a girl”. The great post-structuralist philosopher Judith Butler, however, has explained that gender is not so simple: it is not just a question of biology but a genuine cultural performance.

Take a look at the video above and the images below, and let us know what you think…

Super Sexy CPR

Posted on by

If you find saving lives boring, then think again! I just came across this beautifully simple, and extremely sexy video of one hot girl performing CPR on another hot girl….

Sounds like a great idea for getting people to pay attention to the the life-saving process of CPR (sex sells people!). However, after some research I have come to learn that this idea is not the brain child of some eager-to-save-lives-medical-group, but in fact a cleaver ad campaign by Canadian lingerie company Fortnight Lingerie Inc.

Does this mean that this film is just a shallow advert to sell lingerie to people? Or is the fact that the video actually teaches you how to perform proper CPR, which could save a life, something that should be congratulated? I have to go with the latter, and say well done Fortnight Lingerie for not simply using sex to sell sexy underwear, but also teaching the world a little bit of first aid. And the fact that there is little mention of the brand on the Super Sexy CPR website, makes the whole thing a lot more admirable.

As it said on the website:

“Now that we’ve got you interested in learning CPR and the abdominal thrust, go get properly certified by taking a class through one of the many certifying authorities in your local area”

So, while Fortnight Lingerie makes it clear that these videos do not qualify as real training, something’s gotta be said for the geniuses who put this campaign together.

And if you already know CPR, or you want to help a friend who is choking (or you wanna see some Man – on – Girl action), then check out their Super Sexy Abdominal Thrusts video that teaches us about the Heimlich Manoeuvre:

And go to the Super Sexy CPR website to download super sexy wallpaper for your computer, that reminds you the steps of CPR.

 

The joys of being a Young Adult

Posted on by

I noticed this film a while ago and thought it looked like a winner. Mainly because the title struck me, Young Adult? That’s pretty much my frame of mind completely. It’s out on the 9th of Febuary, and is about Mavis Gary (played by Charlize Theron), a writer of teen literature who returns to her small hometown to relive her glory days and attempt to reclaim her happily married high school sweetheart (Patrick Wilson). But when she gets home it proves more difficult than she thought. However, Mavis meets former classmate Matt (Patton Oswalt) who was beaten almost to death at high school by a group of boys who thought he was gay. The two become close friends, with Matt being her voice of reason in her quest for getting back with her ex.  As this film is by the makers of Juno, I’ve no doubt it will be a little off-key, and hopefully a bit different from the normal chick-flick. Plus with Charlize Theron as the protagonist, I’m hoping she’ll be a a bit more edgy than the usual female character in Hollywood films. I’m interested to see how Mavis tries to win back her high school sweetheart who is happily married, with a baby on the way. We’ve all wanted to go on a winning-back-the-ex-rampage, but (hopefully) have not done anything about it, so god knows how this will end!

This one isn’t about you either.

Posted on by

Mike Monteiro is a man after my own heart. His work is simple, direct and speaks from the heart, while keeping a sense of humour about life. Click on the images below to enlarge and make yourself smile!

Girl Crush

Posted on by

Girl crushes; aren’t they wonderful!! I’ve had many a girl crush in my 23 years…

Thessaly la Force, founder of Girl Crush Zine (does what it says on the tin), has written this great piece for W Magazine, all about the the joys of having a little love for a female. Read it below then take yourself to the GCZ site to enjoy more!

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ 

Everyone can use a role model—especially one who’s smart, stylish, elegant, and fun. Thessaly la Force explains the same-sex love that dare speak its name.

I developed my first girl crush—on the illustrator and ­writer ­Leanne Shapton—three years ago, when I was working as a Web producer at The New Yorker. A colleague of mine had Leanne’s second book on her desk, and one day I picked it up and slowly started turning the pages, transfixed. The book—­Important Artifacts and Personal Property From the Collection of ­Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry—is a mock auction catalog that tells the story of a deteriorating relationship through the deacquisitioning of the ­couple’s possessions. It’s capricious, intelligent, and delicately done. ­

According to Google and my close interrogation of those who knew her, Leanne ­appeared to have a most enviable life: She lived in a stunning West Village apartment, all antique rugs and Farrow & Ball paint; wore a Dries Van Noten skirt as effortlessly as she did a painter’s smock; and was happily engaged to the handsome and successful publishing executive James Truman. I adored her from afar, and I suppose a part of me wanted to be her.

A generous friend who knew Leanne found my obsession amusing and arranged for the three of us to have a drink. On the appointed day, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror a cliché of a nervous wreck: rehearsing what to say, fretting over what to wear. Should I go understated and elegant in a black Maria Cornejo dress and Margiela booties? Or maybe something a bit more romantic, like my floral-print Mayle dress with Chanel flats? Should I lead with a handshake? A cheek kiss? A hug? And if she ordered a martini, should I get one, too—or would it be wiser to stick with a glass of Sancerre? More important, why was I treating this like a date?

The “girl crush” may sound ­silly, but sometimes it takes something ­unserious to get us talking about a serious subject: the ambitions of young creative women and the need for ­worthy role models. Among my own nominees for inaugural members of the Girl Crush Hall of Fame are Zadie Smith, with her daring, brilliance, and wild success; Joan ­Didion, with her cool, spare prose; Patti Smith, with her soul and wisdom; Sofia Coppola, with her chic grace and unmistakable taste; and Tina Fey, with her goofy smile and razor wit. Each of them has accomplished something the rest of us dream of doing. And because they’ve done it, we feel we can too.

There’s a distinctly nineties flavor to the term (think Riot Grrrls), but the idea of the girl crush is much older than that. F. Scott Fitzgerald had something to say on the matter in an essay he penned in 1930: “  ‘Crushes’ were once a boarding-school ­phenomenon—now any sort of courageous individualism makes a woman the center of a cult…What effect has this woman worship on the young girl herself?”

When my good friend ­Jenna Wortham—a New York Times ­reporter—and I decided to start a zine called Girl Crush last spring, we thought of it as a chance to be frivolous, irreverent, and earnest all at once. We created a website, ­Girlcrushzine.tumblr.com, and began soliciting personal essays. We e-mailed novelist Jennifer Egan, This American Life contributor ­Starlee Kine, New Yorker writer ­Amanda ­Fortini, former Missbehave editor Mary H.K. Choi, and other women we admire.

As varied as the submissions we received were, the answer to ­Fitzgerald’s question was clear: Woman ­worship, girl crushing—whatever you want to call it—is a positive trend. ­Fortini’s took the form of a singular ­devotion to the journalist Janet ­Malcolm, whose work she faithfully read and followed when Fortini was an assistant at The New York Review of Books. To Choi, a girl crush is a creatively inspiring friendship born of mutual respect and admiration—like the one she established with the sassy Times columnist Cintra Wilson. For Egan, it represents that moment in girlhood before boys have entered the picture.

After two months, we had dozens and dozens of submissions—more than either of us had anticipated. Had we struck a chord? I can’t help but believe our current generation’s embrace of girl crushing signifies something larger: evidence that a professional world once dominated by men has evened out—maybe not totally, but to a reassuring degree. When ­Didion first set out to become a writer, she copied the sentences of Ernest Hemingway; today, my friends and I copy hers.

That night, when I arrived at the bar to meet Leanne, I instantly forgot everything I had prepared to say. She asked me about my life. I asked about hers. We slipped into comfortable conversation almost immediately. We talked about books, travel, our hopes and dreams for the year. At the end of the night I walked her home. “Dear Leanne,” I wrote to her the next day, “So fun to meet you last night. I must bashfully admit that my girl crush is undiminished. Hope I played it cool. :)” Over the next year, we gradually moved from being acquaintances to friends. And that’s the thing—a girl crush doesn’t have to be purely aspirational. Still, I’ll never forget what Leanne wrote in response: “Your crush is reciprocated!”

– By Thessaly la Force

Cheating Type

Posted on by

Often, when someone cheats on you, you can picture the two of them at it. All the kissing, licking, positions and shit they did. Well Luke Lucas (great name right?!) has visualised cheating in a whole new way. He has created one of the most disturbing, yet funny typefaces I’ve seen in a while. Check out the “excuses” he’s used to show the typeface, then have a look at the close ups. Knida weird… But I like it…

Have a look at his other typefaces and work on his website.

Sign Language Barbie

Posted on by

I had Becky, Barbie’s disabled friend who came with a cute pink wheelchair, and I loved her. However, I didn’t know about Barbie the sign language teacher! I totally would have got this doll and loved her. What a brilliant idea! 

Sign Language Barbie was developed in partnership with the National Center of Deafness at California State University to ensure the doll instructed sign language accurately and was not offensive to deaf people or those hard of hearing. “Equipped with more than 20 sign pictures, Sign Language Barbie teaches children to sign simple words, such as dog, cat, boy and girl,” says Mary Zanette, Director of Marketing at Toys “R” Us Canada. “But, the doll does more than instruct an introductory level of sign language communication, it also enables children, who are not challenged by deafness, to communicate and thus befriend children they might not otherwise have had the opportunity to interact with.”

Polka Dot Punks

Posted on by

“Polka Dot Punks is a pop-up art and design gallery born out of our frustration at the lack of exhibition spaces and opportunities for emerging artists. We are passionate about promoting affordable contemporary art and design in welcoming, quirky spaces in and around Glasgow.”

We love their tag-line: “Buy local, save an Artist!” and we love their philosophy, so this is one group we’ll be keeping a close eye on, and hopefully working with in the near future! 

In the mean time, to all out Glasgow readers, get yourself down to their event tomorrow night (Thursday 1st September) at Universal Bar, details below. Not only will you see amazing art, listen to great music and have drinks, but you’ll also see some of the founder of PUSSY Magazine, Hells’ work. 

Get yourself down there and save and Artist! xxx

Awesome People Hanging Out Together

Posted on by

Jay-Z and Will Smith

I just came across this great little blog of photos of awesome people hanging out together. Really, it should be called “famous people hanging out together”, but because famous people are awesome, it doesn’t really matter. Check out the rest of the blog for other awesomeness: www.awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong


Danny DeVito, Patti Smith and Johnny Depp

Dave Grohl, RuPaul and Kurt Cobain


James Dean and Elizabeth Taylor


Jim Carrey and Stephen Hawking


Dolly Parton & Mick Jagger


Princes Diana dancing with John Travolta

 

Yoko Ono, John Lennon and Salvador Dali


Danny Devito and RuPaul


Jack White, Amy Winehouse and Jay-Z


Marilyn Monroe and Ella Fitzgerald


Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash

 

Fashion Blogs / Bloggers

Posted on by

When you spend so much time on the internet looking for content/inspiration, it’s unfortunate that you’ll have to trawl through hundreds of “fashion blogs” written by kids who are usually younger than you, have more money than you, and more followers. Now, I’m not usually one to hate (why are you laughing…?!), but I’ve been silent about this new breed of androids for long enough. 
One thing I just don’t understand is this shy, coy, awkward body language that fashion bloggers seem to adopt. The simple fact that you spend your days photographing EVERY outfit you wear screams that you are anything but shy and awkward about yourself. If your blog is named after you, and the majority of your posts include you, then sweetheart, you are not a shy little wallflower.
Call me old fashioned (because I damn well am!), but what the hell is going on with boys fashion on these blogs?! Don’t get me wrong, the girls’ fashions are no better, but I can’t even be bothered to get in to that now… I don’t know when boys changed from dressing like normal people, to dressing like a cross between Kanye West and Edward Scissorhands (…just not half as sexy!). I have never had a wet dream (or even wanted to see) a boy in jeans that are skinnier than the leggings I’m wearing and tops that are baggier than the plus size section in New Look. It just doesn’t do it for me.
Now, let’s all be honest, the kids who run these blogs seem to go to the “cool” parties, have the newest “fashion items”, and an expensive camera to document it all with. So where do you think all this stuff comes from? I’m guessing by their perfectly manicured (but intentionally chipped) nails and their pre-worn, vintage, new clothes, that they have never done a day’s work in their lives. So, either they are making thousands of £££ through their blogging skills (ahem….) or they have a special bank that not many of us are lucky enough to have. The Bank of Mum & Dad. I’m not against kids who get money off their parents, hey, if you can go for it! But if that is the case, why the hell are these kids so intent on looking like they’re so hard up that they have to resort to looting Oxfam?! 
This world of fashion bloggers is not one I want to ever be involved in, and I’m getting pretty tired of seeing photos of kids who just don’t resemble anything that I find remotely interesting. Where the hell are all the old hip hop kids? The country girls? The lives-in-the-real-world-works-a-9-to-5-grafts-for-a-living-dresses-normally-honeys??? 
 
I’m sick of it.
 
Rant over. 

Amy.

Posted on by

Now that the dust has settled, and Amy Winehouse’s death has sunk in, it seems a good time to talk about it. I’ve never known Amy, never met her, but I feel like I have. Maybe it’s her songs, or maybe it’s because she’s a Camden girl, like me. But as soon as I heard her I was convinced that she was a talented, beautiful genius. I first heard her in a car in Italy. My friend’s sister had made a mix-tape (yes, it was that long ago!), and we were playing it on the drive from the airport to their house. I was about 14 years old. I jotted down the words of the song, and googled them when I got back to England a week later. That’s when I found out all about Amy, and I’ve followed her ever since.

Her first album changed my life. Really. The songs stuck with me and I found a singer/song writer that sang EXACTLY how I was feeling. I also loved the way she looked; a strong, slightly plumpy jewish girl, who I thought was gorgeous.

When her second album came out I was shocked by her apperance, but still very much hooked on her songs. They were darker, but as I’d grown older, so had she and her music. So I was still an Amy-fan.

Now, in hindsight, we all know Amy’s downfalls, and we all have our 2-pennies-worth to put in. But I think out of all this there is a serious message.

For years Amy dealt with addictions; addiction to drugs, to drink, and to to the man she loved. Amy was a normal girl (with amazing talent). She loved like the rest of us, cried like the rest of us, and lived like the rest of us. It’s difficult to pass judgement on a girl who is very much like me, and every girl I’ve met. I’ve loved more than I should, and drunk more than I should, but in most circumstances, it’s because I’ve had a hard time with living in the world that is set up for me. It is said that Amy was “on the mend”, and perhaps she was, but how much mending is there to do for a young girl who has had to deal with the world around her?

So, maybe after all is said and done with Amy’s death, it will bring to light the difficulties with being not only a woman, but a person in today’s world. Her lyrics spoke the tragedy of a loved lost, while her life paralleled it.

Rest In Paradise Amy.

Breaking News – Sexy is Successful

Posted on by

Honey Money: The Power of Erotic Capital by Catherine Hakim

Cosy-ing up to the telly last night, News Night caught my attention with a lovely buzzword- ‘erotic capital’.

Short of anything other than riots and economy to winge about they’d brought on Catherine Hakim, a ‘Senior Research Fellow of Sociology’, to talk about her new book “Honey Money: The power of Erotic Capital”.

According to Penguin:
Dr Catherine Hakim’s groundbreaking book reveals how erotic capital is just as influential in life as how rich, clever, educated or well-connected we are … She examines how women and men learn to exploit it, how it differs across cultures and how it affects all spheres of activity … Honey Money is a call for us to recognize the economic and social value of erotic capital. This will not only get women a better deal in …  life – it could also revolutionize our power structures, big business, the sex industry, government … etc etc

In short: People like pretty people. Groundbreaking, indeed! Next you’ll be telling us it’s illegal to discriminate against the ugly or disabled.

But whatthehellis erotic capital?

A really fun word to throw about. Some clever man said your “erotic capital” is being bumped up by the quality and quantity of attributes you have that others can find sexy. So, I’m guessing it can varies from having big tits, big brains to even a big collection of frilly socks.  Hakim herself divides erotic capital into seven areas, though.

So what’s new?

Well, as the nice lady joining her on News Night said, Catherine Hakim has successfully her PHD in writing a book stating the obvious.

I can’t say why they decided this book was breaking news either!

Still, if you’re up for reading old ideas written in our current downfalling age, here’s her book on how blowjobs get you a promotion, I think I’ll be ordering it into the library myself. Or perhaps you’d rather learn a more modern theory like, oh, gravity.

The Museum of Broken Relationships

Posted on by

The Museum of Broken Relationships, an exhibition that originated in Croatia, is a collection of objects donated by people from around the world, each object telling a story of a past relationship. The objects, which include a wedding dress, a crumbling garden gnome and a cast from a broken leg, are displayed alongside texts detailing the tales of passion, romance and heartbreak they symbolise. New items, donated by people living and working in Covent Garden, will be added to collection for the London show, which also takes place at 38 Earlham Street, WC2H 9LH and in store windows in the Seven Dials area. In addition, there are commissioned works made in response to the exhibition by artists, and a series of associated events.

What a brilliant idea for a museum! We’ve all been through it, and we’ve all got something we could give to the exhibition. So it’s nice to see what other people around the world have given, plus the stories are interesting, sometimes funny and more often than not, heart-breaking.

Below is a selection from the museum with stories of the past relationships. My favourite has got to be the phone, what a good idea to give your phone to your ex so they can’t call you! 

An Ex Axe

1995 
Berlin, Germany

She was the first woman that I let move in with me. All my friends thought I needed to learn to let people in more. A few months after she moved in, I was offered to travel to the US. She could not come along. At the airport we said goodbye in tears, and she was assuring me she could not survive three weeks without me. I returned after three weeks, and she said: “I fell in love with someone else. I have known her for just 4 days, but I know that she can give me everything that you cannot.”

I was banal and asked about her plans regarding our life together. The next day she still had no answer, so I kicked her out. She immediately went on holiday with her new girlfriend while her furniture stayed with me. Not knowing what to do with my anger, I finally bought this axe at Karstadt to blow off steam and to give her at least a small feeling of loss – which she obviously did not have after our break-up.

In the 14 days of her holiday, every day I axed one piece of her furniture. I kept the remains there, as an expression of my inner condition. The more her room filled with chopped furniture acquiring the look of my soul, the better I felt. Two weeks after she left, she came back for the furniture. It was neatly arranged into small heaps and fragments of wood. She took that trash and left my apartment for good. The axe was promoted to a therapy instrument.

A Cell Phone

July 12, 2003 – April 14, 2004 
Zagreb, Croatia

It was 300 days too long. He gave me his cell phone so I couldn’t call him any more.

“I love you” Teddy bear

2002 
Zagreb, Croatia

„I love you“ – WHAT A LIE! LIES, DAMN LIES! Yes, it’s like that when you are young, naïve and in love. And you don’t realize your boyfriend started dating you just because he wanted to take you to bed! I got this teddy bear for Valentine’s. He survived on top of my closet in a plastic bag, because it wasn’t him who hurt me, but the idiot who left him behind.

A Glass Horse

1982-1997 
Maribor, Slovenia

One day I was tidying up the bedroom. I opened the closet and found a small cash-box. I opened it. At the bottom of it I saw my wedding ring, and next to it a little glass horse. I took it in my hand. It was made in a workshop on the island of Murano, Venice.

Old memories – If I remember correctly, my husband and I took a trip to Venice. It was a splendid day, the sun was shining. I was young, I was in love. I had wonderful dreams about our future. Venice is a city of people in love. We walked slowly along the streets, across the squares and stone bridges. The streets were full of people, full of tourists. Young people were walking hand in hand. Everyone seemed happy. We soon arrived at the Canal Grande, a long narrow street full of beautiful palaces. The facades were bathing in the sun. We stopped at the place called Café Gondoliere and went in. Inside there was a group of tourists, older men reading newspapers, and smartly-dressed women eating cakes. We sat down to enjoy the scene. After some time I went to the women’s washroom and when I came back, my husband was paying the bill. We made a quick decision. We went to visit the glass-works of Murano.

I was admiring an artist who was making beautiful sculptures in glass. In front of us he was sculpting a beautiful horse. I said: Oh, I would be very happy if I had it. Then we returned to the city. It was a long walk back to our hotel. We didn’t talk a lot, but it was a peaceful time which both of us enjoyed. I was very happy. Just before we reached the hotel my husband kissed me on the cheek and gave me a small package. He said: Darling, I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. You are my life. I answered: Me too, dear. When we entered the room, I opened my gift and saw the little glass horse.

20 years later, I am divorced. His love disappeared like the wind. I put the glass horse into the box beside the wedding ring and shut it. I say to myself: Don’t cry! Tomorrow is a new day.

A “MIRA FURLAN” Bowl

Almost 3 years, January 2003 – September 2005 
Ljubljana, Slovenia

You wanted me to bake bread. Because a woman kneading dough is so erotic, isn’t she? You probably thought I’d work up such a sweat that it would drip from my breasts directly into the bowl. One summer day I dressed up only in an apron, just for you and the bowl. In three years I made bread five times in this bowl. It never was any good, always hard as a rock. I don’t know why. Maybe it is because the bowl is too small for kneading, or because I sometimes forgot to put in the yeast. Do you put an egg in bread? You were always eyeing me suspiciously when I was “getting to work”. You wanted me to be like Mira Furlan in the film “Lepota poroka”. But I’m not Mira Furlan. Now I know that the bread was bad because I was afraid that you would – like it happened in the film – smash it on my head with a hammer, if I happened to look at another boy for a tad too long. After that I only ate salad from the bowl for a while. I lost 21 kilograms. And the Furlan woman is not such a babe anymore.

Underpants

2003 – 2005 
Zagreb, Croatia

A size too small…but I didn’t mind at all.

 

A Wedding Dress

1994 – 1997 
Berlin, Germany

We married in Greece and in Japan when we were just over 20. I wore this dress on August 20, 1994 in Kavala, Greece. We had 800 guests. A Greek magazine reported on the wedding of 3 countries. One radio station even had a special coverage.
Against our will, we became rather known there, which was followed by many nosy questions from different people pointing their fingers at us.

Our goal was a happy home with many children.
But Mother Nature did not deliver – and couldn’t children wait until the end of our studies?
It was very important to him, a very happy man from the beginning, to be a young father. Finally, nothing was missing…
Slowly, the page turned. Impatience tipped the scales and brought a dark gray sky over our initial happiness, built a thick white wall between our fields of vision that stifled each feeling in its embryo.

On the other hand, some things became clear on his side that moved me to separate and after a while to return to Germany, but not to my home town, Stuttgart. Berlin won me over and I am finding more and more in this town and in the people that love me.

I started to feel at home here and even have a family. It is the best moment- to be an independent grown up offering a safe thread of life to a small being, and thus not to be alone.