Sucky New Year

Most people’s idea of a new years resolution is too give up something that they feel is a bad influence on their lives. Some decide to ditch the fags, others quit drinking and most of us join the gym in a bid to shift the 20 stone that we managed to put on over Christmas. In my circle of friends however, top of the list seems to be giving up your other half.

 It is only 4 weeks into 2011 and I already have a string of heartbroken girlfriends to comfort with liters of wine and tones of chocolate (not helping my own resolution of course which was to eat only dim sum and noodles until I could walk into Topshop and actually leave with something). Of course there is never a good time to break up with someone, but January does seem to be the favored month for shedding your partner. As if it wasn’t depressing enough already.

Perhaps it’s that New Year mentality. The kind that makes you think “this is the year I sort my life out” or “I will defiantly give up meat this year, I didn’t manage it last year or the one before that but this year I’ll do it for sure!”. But like these, and many of our other ill timed resolutions, will we cave in and revert back to our old flames in time for Valentines Day? Or, with the help of friends and perhaps a new addiction to replace the old one, are we really quitting them for good?

Sex and Religion

Katy Perry, ”Dedicated Christian” and wife of “rehabilitated” sex fiend Russell Brand, has made it known that she has a major dislike for blasphemous pop stars. She targeted Lady Gaga last year for her music video “Alejandro” and has now hit out at Madonna for singing on a cross in her new live show. All this from a girl who squirts cream from her breasts and probably doesn’t adorn underwear on a regular basis.

She tweeted "Using blasphemy as entertainment is as cheap as a comedian telling a fart joke.” Actually, it all depends on the comedian. If Frankie Boyle was telling it, I’m pretty sure it would kill. Lucy Porter however, not so much. And the same goes for this. You take Lady Gaga, wrap her up in latex, dress her as a nun and give her some rosary beads to suck on, it works. It’s interesting. It makes you think. Katy Perry could never pull off something so ostentatious because she has established her self as a cheesy pop star with meaningless songs.

Madonna is famous for being controversial (in the real sense of the word, not the Katy sense, bras with cakes on and the occasional coloured wig) and singing on a crucifix is much less blasphemous than snogging other women or using sex to sell your records. Slamming Madonna can only lead too spending the rest of your life wondering which roof the sniper is on and why you never receive any awards. Many have hailed her as being hypocritical but I believe that JEALOUS is a better label. After all, we hate only what we do not understand…

Shifting the blame

I am addicted to fashion television. I love the drama, the ridiculous tasks, the intense time scales and the beautiful people who present them. As long as there’s blood, sweat and shoes I’ll watch it. I also find the drive and passion these people have to make something of them selves quite uplifting. Recently though I have come to realise that there is a very fine line between ambitious and hardworking and fame hungry and desperate. Yesterday I witnessed the new advert for Americas Next Top Model in which a girl who is barley skin and bone is told by a shocked looking Jay Manuel that she doesn’t need to get any leaner, to which she looks overly surprised to hear. It seems that the pressures of the fashion industry have claimed another victim. But how much of this can we really blame on magazines and TV show’s? Surley you have a choice with what you do to your body? Or, in a world where obese people can sue MacDonalds for not informing them that their food is full of fat, can anorexic people sue Vogue for not explaining that a size zero is not normal?

Being a 5 ft 1, size 12 with a natural Dolly Parton chest, I understand the plight of the “curvy woman”. I do not however strive to change myself into a leggy chest less girl just so I can buy clothes from Topshop. I believe that this is because I understand that we are all built differently and that even if I was too become a size 8 I would still be to short for most of their jeans. Some things we can not change, accepting them is the hard part. I personally love my curves as I can dress in beautiful vintage clothing from my favorite era (the 1950’s) and it suits me too a tee. Every ones body shape is different and while the high street will cater to the needs of most sizes the catwalk remains a sea of waifs. But who is too be blamed, if anyone at all?

At one end of the body spectrum we have Keira Knightley who is often criticized for being too thin but protests that her body shape is completely natural. At the other end we have the gorgeous Christina Hendricks. She is a voluptuous size 14 because her and the other Mad Men stars are asked not too diet or exercise during filming to keep that elegant hourglass shape. So, we are appalled at Keira’s skinniness and inspired by Christina’s curves yet the magazines wont use plus size girls because they claim that the samples they get sent for shoots range only between a zero and a four. But then we can not blame the designers for this, clothes are their art. They should be allowed to design what they wish for who they wish. And the circle of blame continues. I believe that it is not one entity but many that influence our obsession with this age old debate, “does size matter”. Fashion and all of its medias are there to advertise and inform but what we perceive it all to mean is our own choice.

So why is it that women who read the same magazines, shop in the same stores and even idolize the same women as I do end up looking like an extra from night of the living dead? It seems that even in a time where we have inspirational people such as Gok Wan to lead us on the path to true body confidence, its still far easier to blame the media for our indiscretions than to admit to ourselves that we have a serious problem. The matter is not helped when respected elders of the fashion industry make it clear that there is no room in the modeling business for bigger girls. Last year Charlotte Dawson (Australia’s Next Top Model judge) said that it was basic “tokenism” to cast plus size models on the show and Julien Macdonald branded them a joke.

Although there is a clear call for change, it looks doubtful that any large brands will take the first step towards giving natural girls a voice. It seems that this plus sized task must rely on independent designers, writers, models and fashionistas everywhere to push the boundaries and make its cause heard. Count me in…

Christmas is NOT just for children.

A while back I was discussing with a friend the perks of her future job. These included such delights as great pay, flexible shift patterns and the potential to be first in line for Christmas off due to the children she will have by then. At the time I thought “yeah that seems logical, they probably do do that”. But then I got to thinking about my own career prospects and thought, “Why should this be so? Does your family status really reflect your attitude towards Christmas?” Being a total day dreamer with ridiculous ambitions and a head bursting with ideas children have never been part of my plan. So, does my decision to forgo multiplying rid me of the right to celebrate Christmas?

It seems to me that parents will always have superiority over the childless people of this world. Parent and Child parking, for instance. Right at the front of the store, but why? Blue badges I get. Practically immobile people need to be able to get in and out of Tesco with as much ease as possible. And if there is a wheelchair involved you need the space to set it out. But a child can get out of the car all on its own with no particular need for aid. Unless of course we are talking babies. Babies I get. So it should be Parent and Baby parking, I mean where else could we really draw the line?

Also! They expect help in the street. A woman with a buggy was coming out of a shop as I was waiting to get in, she was doing perfectly fine yet when she finally got it down the ONE step she mumbled “thanks, not like I need any help or anything”. What on earth could I have done?! I was not put on this earth to help people carry prams up stairs or assist them in putting their bags in the car while their child has a tantrum on the ground! The friendly staff at your local shopping centre can help you with all of these things and more.

But, I digress. Christmas (for me anyways) is a time to get gifts, get drunk and see family and friends that I don’t usually see. It is supposed to bring everyone together, not single out those who are unwilling or unable to reproduce. Christmas is NOT just for children, its for everybody.

Dementors on the dole...

I read an article recently about the derogative way disabled characters are represented in books. It explained that even if they are the good guy their disability is still their defining characteristic rather than their personality. Of the top of my head, I couldn’t think of any books that had disabled people in them, good or bad. Reading on, it soon became apparent that this was perhaps because as a child I did not think off sick people in books as being “disabled” or “different”. They were just another character too me. But maybes that’s just how I was raised or whatever. Anyway, to the good stuff! Overall the article uses a hoard of what I found to be highly irrelevant examples of books in which such people existed. The most ridiculous of which was the following:

“Disability is either almost entirely ignored or negatively portrayed, as with the rapatious blind Dementors, in J. K. Rowling’s hugely successful Harry Potter series.”

For one thing, its rapacious, and for another, like OMG seriously? That’s how you read into her story? The evilest, most terrifying creature in the whole book that sucks people souls out and destroys their happiness is trying to kill the hero and you turn the whole thing around into her being discriminating because they are blind?! Jesus Christ that is so god damn ridiculous! They are blind but can still sense you through your positive emotions, that’s what they feed of. Heightened senses hello! They are perfectly capable of seeking out and killing people despite their blindness and it is most certainly not the main focus of their personality.

But maybe this writer is right, perhaps we should get Ms Rowling to go back and re-write her story, depicting the Dementors as the unsung heroes of the book fighting the evil boy whose thick rimmed glasses suggest only mild visual disruption. Or perhaps we could see them going down the job centre and filling in a DLA form only to be told that their just not quite blind enough to qualify so they will need to apply for Job Seekers Allowance. Dementors on the dole. Somehow I don’t think that book would have gone down quite so well.

Should chanell 4 apolgise? They clearly knew what kind of show it was going to be...

Ken who I like? Frankie Boyle. He’s funny, real funny. He offends me in ways I never thought possible. And I love it. So I do rather think that this whole Harvey joke thing has been blown completely out of proportion. There are comedians out there who are a helluva lot more offensive but you don’t see the public exhuming Bernard Manning’s body and making HIM apologise (I would however be the first to back that if it gets suggested as a means to an end in this ridiculous dispute).

I mean there is nothing I would love more than too push Roy Chubby Brown into a pit of cheese wire and then serve his fatty remains to the homeless. But, rather than got to jail, or have contact with the homeless, I simply just ignore him. I don’t watch his stand up and I certainly don’t buy tickets to go and see his shows. That’s just sense. He won’t go away but I don’t have to look at him. I don’t agree with a thing he says but I don’t have to hear it.

So, if you have a disabled child and do not enjoy Frankie Boyle’s style of comedy, why would you purchase a ticket to go and see him? And sit in the front row no less, where he can see all of your hideously shocked expressions. Well, a one Sharon Smith did just that back in April of this year. She was so offended that she wrote bout it on her blog and it caused a huge public outrage. Disability charity Mencap’s ambassador and comedian Mathew Horne described the routine as “rubbish”. Strong words. I reckon society is perhaps getting a bit too liberal with that word comedian…(Gavin and Stacey aside mind, that shit was awesome!)

Katie Price has some firkin nerve pulling the caring mother shit all of a sudden too. Not that many years ago when asked how she juggled being a model and full time carer, she said that she just took Harvey with her to all of her tack ass photo shoots and if he was “playing up” she would chuck a bag of crisps on the ground for him to graze on while she finished getting her tits out. Frankie Boyle couldn’t even make that sick shit up.

I don’t condone abuse to the disabled but free speech is just that. Free. Frankie Boyle just seems to be the one we blame for society being so fucked that we all find his inappropriate filth secretly hilarious.

So,whilst trawling ye olde Wikipedia for something inspiring to write about, I came across this rather ridiculous yet disturbing paragraph:

Katie Price (born Katrina Amy Alexandria Alexis Infield, 22 May 1978), previously known under the pseudonym Jordan during her early modeling career, is an English celebrity, businesswoman, singer, television personality and former glamour model.

Her time at topless female glamour model pictorial, Page Three, in British tabloid newspaper The Sun, instantly shot Price into the public limelight. She is notoriously dubbed by contemporary critics as being "famous for being famous", her personal life is often criticized by British tabloids and celebrity-based magazines, and her artificial breasts represent the pinnacle of her pornographic appeal; however Price is often viewed a collective ideal of genuine modern femininity to a widespread audience: particularly to females. Her continual struggle with the British media against her personal life and "rags to riches" story has turned her into an inspirational role model.

I would like, if I may (you may), to take you on a strange journey into my mind. First off, who even wrote this? Among other things, the sentence structure made my face hurt and the grammar, my eyes bleed. So, here for your reading pleasure is my own (and much more accurate) version of the opening paragraph to "Jordan's" Wikipedia page.

Katie Price (born Katrina Amy Alexandria Alexis Infield, 22 May 1978), previously known under the pseudonym Jordan during her early modeling career, is a media manipulator, child exploiter, surgery obsessed daughter botoxer, serial husband destroyer and former glamour model. Her time as a page 3 girl in the classic, pervy builders choice “newspaper” The Sun, instantly brought her up into the world of Britain’s Z list celebrities. There, she fought viciously for her place in the limelight with other slut bags such as Jodie Marsh. She was notorious for falling out of night clubs and flashing her veehag for all to see.

It has been reported recently that in a story of shit to awesome, there has to be hard work, a character that you can really relate to and a moment near the end where they prove that they still know where they came from. Due to this discovery, her “rags to riches” story has been called a load of old cock (by me, right here, right now). She is an inspiration to the following:

·        Wannabe WAGS

·        Girls who never want to work a day in their life

·        Women with no self esteem

·        Other mothers who fob their kids on the help and then pretend to care when someone  makes a harmless joke about them