Me And My Selfie

The issue of “the selfie” is a great opportunity for everyone’s internal misogyny to show. Myself included. I am guilty of having scoffed as I scrolled down my Facebook feed, allowing myself to feel momentarily superior to the girls with the heavy makeup and puckered lips, their tops pulled down and their chests puffed up just enough in-frame for us to see. It’s so obvious, isn’t it? Envy at it’s most passive-aggressive. Today Jezebel published an article about how the act of taking a photo of yourself is a cry for help which prompted people to get into a rage. Because women telling other women that they are to be pitied for taking pictures of themselves is kinda fucked up, don’t you think?

Continue reading “Me And My Selfie”

Life Without Alcohol

I know, right? Pretty shocking headline. If I’d read those three words a year ago, on my own blog no less, I would have scoffed. No way.

Over the last ten years, I became very good at drinking alcohol. It was my lifestyle, my hobby. It was the only thing I enjoyed. I needed it. My social life went from under-age drinking at weekends to vodka quads at university to boozy nights out in Manchester to curb my social awkwardness. The longest I went without drinking over an entire decade was two months, medication-enforced and seen as a spectacular achievement. I always fell off the wagon. I’d make a promise to myself not to drink and find myself in the pub by evening, like I’d just forgotten to quit. In the months when I was properly, dangerously depressed, the only thing that felt like help was alcohol. I’m bored, time for a glass of lambrini. Open a beer, zone out. Grab a bottle and drink until you feel like somebody else.

Continue reading “Life Without Alcohol”

How Buffy The Vampire Slayer Shaped My Life

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ended it’s seven year run a whole 10 years ago this month. Scary. I caught the first episode when it aired on BBC2 in 1998, making me ten years old. Since then I watched every episode, bought the VHS tapes, bought the DVDs and rewatch the entire show at least once every year. The show is as intrinsic to my growing up process as neopets and dairylea triangles, but far more meaningful. I have spent more than half my life watching and thinking about Buffy.

Continue reading “How Buffy The Vampire Slayer Shaped My Life”

“How’s Trichs?” – A Decade of Trichotillomania

I remember the first time I felt truly ashamed of my trichotillomania. It was 2008 and I was sitting in the cafe of my university’s students union with some mates, waiting for a lecture or perhaps just there to get drunk. My friend arrived and pulled us all into separate hugs. Then, frowning, he held me at a distance. “Red.” He cried. “What have you done to your eyebrows?”

Continue reading ““How’s Trichs?” – A Decade of Trichotillomania”

Star Trek: Into Sexism

I went to see Star Trek: Into Darkness last week, and I wasn’t that impressed. I’m not a fan of the franchise (although I did enjoy Deep Space Nine back in the day, when it was on before Buffy) so I don’t know much about Kirk, Spock and the world they inhabit. I was hoping the film would show me, but much of it was centred around this generic cat and mouse adventure plotline in which the heroes chase the bad guy, capture him, are hoodwinked and eventually regain composure. Snore. The best bits; alien races, space cities and future technology, were mere scenery and thirty second snapshots for a film set largely on deck.

That wasn’t the stupidest bit though.

Continue reading “Star Trek: Into Sexism”

Street Harassment: How A Stranger Stole My Hat

Last night at eleven, I was getting off a train at Manchester Piccadilly after a day in the countryside. As soon as I hit the streets, I realised it must have been a football day or something, because the city was one huge chant. Teenage bullying and general life experience makes me wary of large groups of men, so I kept my head down and power-walked onwards to the bus stop.

So there I am, pressing the wait button at the traffic lights, one earphone in blaring Fun’s Some Nights on repeat to distract me from the world, when I feel someone behind me. A man snatches the hat off my head and keeps on walking. I turn around to see a group of five or six “lads” jeering, pointing and shouting at me whilst the thief in question adjusts my hat on his head.

Continue reading “Street Harassment: How A Stranger Stole My Hat”