Wednesday, 26 December 2012


Why heloooo there,
long time no blog. 

I hope that those who are reading this, the loyal ones, not those flaky ditch you when you've not blogged in two months type, had a lovely Christmas. I certainly did watching my pissed grandmother critique my photography folder. She is likes presentation almost as much as a masterchef judge. 

As I am uncertain what to write I'll give you a summary of my current thoughts and feelings
1) The Hobbit - three hours of excruciating beard envy, followed by three seconds of utter amazement at Benedict Cumberbatch's ability to really master every facet of the role of 'the dragon'

2) I am not Sherlock Holmes. No amount of walking round and picking things up quickly/sit contemplatively with my hands in an arch/squinting like I've smelt something bad then dashing off without explanation will change this

3) I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Benedict Cumberbatch. 

Sunday, 14 October 2012

A post in which I ramble about page 3, three weeks too late

Hey, hey! Did someone mention there was some argument about page 3 and middle class feminists, why, pray do let me throw my thoughts at this! - Even if it's about three weeks late. 

Okay, I have aligned my paragraphs centre for my aesthetic pleasure, got my toast on my lap and subsequent crumbs irritatingly caught between the laptop keys, thus I shall now begin.

The recent no more page 3 campaign which has taken over my twitter timeline recently, that and tweets which revealed that more people have very strong opinions about people wearing coats on stage than I first thought. The premise of the campaign is to remove the beautiful local lass we are all know and love from her habitual placement on the third page of the nations most read newspaper, The Sun. 

Page 3 is such an ingrained part of a culture apparently we don't notice any more or some have said. I know I noticed it when I was enjoying my toasted teacake in a local cafe the other day, tits and teacake what more could you want on a Thursday afternoon?

The campaign is being spearheaded by those over at No More Page 3 who are basically campaigning for the ultimate removal of 'bare breasts from The Sun'. But obviously we have to take into consideration the fact that this is a campaign being run by 'guardian readers of the middle class', that those who actually read The Sun have more important things to worry about than the objectification of women in the media. What a fair comment to make. I LOVE A STEREOTYPE, ignore me whilst I go discuss this with the women in John Lewis. I myself probably wouldn't be the type of person who people would think possesses a fair opinion or who has a right to pass judgement on the topic, I'm 16 and live in a town with lots of trees and an elderly generation. However, I'm 16 and don't enjoy being told to get my tits out for the lads and have a keyboard and the internet so mwa ha ha, I do what I want. 

Now, I shall throw my own opinion in to the 'boobs aren't news' scrap. Although, it's pretty much equivalent to throwing a bubble into the sea. Which would not work in any way at all, thus why I used that simile.The problem I see is this, the argument for, as mentioned is that The Sun has created an institute, a part of our culture. Which is effectively, sexual gratification with your cheerios. MmmMmm tits with your morning tea. It is not the bare boobs that I find troubling but the fact that all these models have the same wonderfully smooth spheres in the place of breasts. I've actually seen arguments that those for the campaign are 'jealous', women would be jealous of these models because we're all trying to just god damn obtain the wonderfully sanded stomachs and buffed bodies that are paraded in front of us on 3. 

The 'news in breifs' caption, so wittily included in which the model is given a hilarious caption which proves just how stupid the model is because hey, she got her boobs out for us so she must be! These models aren't fools, they know what they're doing and getting themselves into. As a feminists we don't need to try and save them from the doom of making the 'wrong choice'. I don't need to stop their picture being there for them, I would prefer it if it wasn't there because I don't like seeing a woman being raised on a pedestal for wearing little clothes and then being knocked down by the male journalist. I don't want to see that, I don't want to see misogynistic, degrading comments passed off as news. There's no place for it I tell you! 

Another argument is that page 3 is just inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, that it doesn't make much difference if it's there or not. I'm aware there are bigger issues outside of a playful girl wearing pants in a national newspaper but right now, right now I want to chip away at the objectification of women with the heel of my now abandoned stiletto heels whilst simultaneously finishing off the washing because, as a female, I can multi task.  If it's not an issue why oh why are we all getting so het up about it? I don't want to be an adult in an adult world where some men still think putting words in a women's mouth is okay because, nope, I really really don't think it is. 
If it's misogyny, it's an issue. 

Yes this is soft compared to anything you could find with a quick google search but they're not trying to pass themselves off as news. If I hear people say that the removal of boobs is censorship I assume we're talking about the censorship that involves the removal of 'unacceptable' content, last time I found misogynistic comments unacceptable. Can't quiet muster up a last time. The whole paper is usually rife with misogynistic comments but maybe if we attract their attention to the page with the tits on we stand a chance of getting our point across. 

Friday, 17 August 2012


Dress- Snoopers' Paradise 

Sun?! That lovable ball of flame and gas is still out there?! 
Picked up this dress yesterday on a trip to Brighton. I seriously don't think there is anything that makes me happier than Brighton in the sun. 

I pick my results up next week. The countdown of dread has begun and hope everything was hunk dory for all those that picked up their as /a levels. 

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

I'm sporting my new 8 euro top bought from a delightfully tacky tourist stall in Venice. I have decided to team this with a midi skirt passed onto me from my mother. I am a definite champion of the midi skirt, despite the name which makes you sound like a fool when you say it.
 'Oh yah, I think I'll go for a midi length because it's perfectly mid way between lengths.' 

Anyway, I champion the midi for a variety of reasons:
1) The paranoia one experiences in a skirt of shorter length is erased. Do not fear about picking up that thing on the floor and flashing those behind you, the midi skirt is here to protect your dignity and cover you in sudden gusts of wind.

2) If ever there was a 'transitional' piece of clothing, this is it. 

3) It is quite probably the most effective deterrent to repel slightly too forthcoming Italian boys. Nothing says 'she's not going to be much of a laugh or proffer the certain things which am seeking' than a girl who wont even get her knees out. Except maybe a pair of socks 'n' sandals and a walking stick. 
Seriously, it really is miraculous. 
As soon as I went out in the evening with my knees out I had to beat them off with ma zimmer frame. 



Skirt- Warehouse




Well it was either that or my face that was deterring them.