Christmas: Single vs. In a Relationship

Ah, Christmas, we know it well. Having gone through the tidings for 20+ years, we know the drill; family arguments, crappy presents, a dwindling bank account and let's not forget that extra 3lbs that takes 3 days to gain and 3 months to lose.

Is it any wonder that suicide rates double during the holiday season?



Anyway, I'm not one to be depressing during the festive period - I am a Catholic after all - so let's get to the point of this festive article.

If, during Christmas, your mind wonders to that oh-so-familiar opening scene in Bridget Jones "Bridget, you look like you've wandered out of Auschwitz," don't panic.  Christmas doesn't have to be as bad for singletons as years of Richard Curtis films have led us to believe. The reason I feel the need to mention this, is because, I think for the first time, each and every one of my friends is in a relationship. Or at least somewhere between married and dating. What? No embarrassing stories from the office party to regale us with over Christmas drinks? No reviews of the latest must-have sex toy?

Definitely too much filling.

Not this year. This year, we discussed our troubles when eating sandwiches, how sometimes we can't be bothered, and sometimes, when eating a whole sandwich, it can be nauseating, especially if there's too much filling. Sandwich, is of course, a euphemism (there were small children around). What has happened to us?

Single and Ready to Mingle Christmas


When you're single, you can go out clubbing on Christmas Eve, flirt inappropriately with the person you shake hands with at Midnight Mass - "and peace be with you..." - and not have to worry about all the annoyances you have to deal with when you have the aforementioned partner.

The Saturday night before Christmas is the time to dust off that Slutty Santa outfit (oh, come on, we all have one) and pucker up under loose strands of mistletoe dotted around every dingy pub in England. The Sunday after is the time you really regret kissing Ben from accounts, but it's okay because your friends can cheer you up with a mince pie and yet more mulled wine. And you can bet that one of them will have done something more embarrassing than you. (Except if you're me - I'm that girl.)

The PG version of what really happened at the Christmas party.
It's OK. What happens under the mistletoe, stays under the mistletoe.

Okay, so I suppose it can be quite nice to see the Christmas lights, and get a bit romantic after a few glasses of Veuve, but there are definitely some cons to being shacked up at Christmas.

Matching Jumpers Christmas

When you're in a relationship, you have to worry about getting a gift that hits the perfect balance between "I think you're great" and "But please God don't ask me to marry you". You have to get waxed at the time of the year where you're feeling the most wobbly and, to be frank, need the warmth wherever you can get it. You have to go for the mandatory Christmas Drink with his friends who will relentlessly discuss sport and/or The Hobbit while you nod enthusiastically.You have to spend time with his family including his flagrantly racist grandmother who perpetually confuses the word "fork" with "fuck" without even realising it, bless her racially intolerant socks.

By far the worst thing about being in a relationship at Christmas is the expectation. It is such a family oriented time of year, that the relationship you are in at Christmas immediately becomes a "big deal", as that is the person that your parents will remember until next year, vomiting in the shrubbery after too much champagne. Nice.

In the end, it was that glass wine that ruined him. Luckily,
it ruined his jumper too.

The real pain of it is, that everyone single at Christmas wishes they had someone to buy a gift for, someone to snuggle up to in front of a shitty Christmas film and someone to see in the new year with. And as much as we all complain about boys, they are quite nice to have around from time to time, because with all the cons of being with someone at Christmas, there are some cracking pros.

(Excuse the Christmas pun, but I've done so well, give me some slack.)

The 5 Most Bizarre Shops in the World

1. Pope Street, Rome

A while ago, I got lost in the city of Rome. I found myself down a street I'd never been on before and as I wandered along, I saw some distinctly 80s looking mannequins in the window, complete with blue eye shadow, false eye lashes and bright red lips. Thinking that this was the street that time forgot, I had to stop. These mannequins were wearing wimples. It seemed that on my aimless wandering, I discovered the place where priests and nuns bought their vestments. The garish displays were filled with gold and purple and boasted long candlesticks, incense burners and the most beautiful silver goblets. It was the most bizarre row of shops I have ever seen and, I couldn't help it, I got the giggles, which was quickly followed by a severe bout of Catholic guilt. The worst part was, I have never been able to find it since and nor has anyone else I have told about it. The only thing I do know is that my imagination isn’t creative enough to make up a street like this.

Postcards, tobacco and vestments. Just your standard Roman corner shop.

2. The Bone Shop, New York

A great metropolis like New York is bound to house some of the wackiest shops in the world, but this is definitely the strangest shop I have seen. The Bone Shop sells, err, bones, including skulls with the horns still attached. It also sells fossils and insects, and  what’s more, if you’re not taking a trip to NYC anytime soon, bones and other assorted weird things are available for you to buy online. With prices reaching nearly $400, it seems that committed bone collectors are the prime audience of The Bone Shop, which has absolutely nothing to do with Angelina Jolie, sorry to disappoint.

Yep. Bones. And T-shirts that say "My friend went to the bone shop and
all I got was this lousy... Actually, I'd rather the T-shirt."

3. Deyrolle, Paris

While London has many taxidermist shops to compliment the most stuffy of upper-class homes, Deyrolle in Paris plays host to the most bizarre display of stuffed animals in Europe. As if stuffed animals aren’t shivers-down-your-spine-scary enough, the animals that are large enough are wearing human clothes. What’s worse, most of the animals are stuffed in a pose, for example an elephant swinging his trunk, an eagle mid-flight, and even cute white rabbits poised to spring on their hind legs. Deyrolle is by far the most creepy shop in Paris, and is amazingly popular with stuffed animal collectors, yep they exist, and those wanting to bring an edge into their home. Deyrolle will certainly not appeal to everyone, and taxidermy is probably best left in the Bates Motel.

That's a nice, erm, trunk you've got.

4. Trashy Lingerie, Los Angeles

This underwear shop in Los Angeles does what it says on the tin. A favourite haunt of glamour model Katie Price, Trashy Lingerie offers underwear for every occasion, using materials from PVC to pure silk. The thing that makes Trashy Lingerie more bizarre is that fact that it is absolutely exclusive. There is a yearly fee to join up and a celebrity following including Cameron Diaz and Winona Rider, making Trashy Lingerie one of the most glamorous places to go for some not-so-glamorous underwear. Well, whatever floats your boat.

On Wednesdays, we wear pink.

5. The Old Curiosity Shop, London

This London based shoe shop is a far cry from your Office or Kurt Geiger. The Old Curiosity Shop specialises in the unique, the edgy and the downright weird with collections including shoes with cork-stoppers (Big Foot for Smelly Foot) and furry shoes with laces (Hog Toe Cat). It is not only the odd collection of shoes that makes The Old Curiosity Shop so wonderfully strange, it is also the shop itself. According to the shop's website, the building is the original Old Curiosity Shop, as written about by Charles Dickens. The building survived both the Great Fire of 1666 and the Blitz in World War II, making it one of the most durable, as well as historic buildings in London. The new owner, shoe designer Daita Kimora, decided to keep the interior as it was, complete with winding staircases and an innate feeling of stepping back in time. Don't let the bizarre nature of this shop fool you - Kimora's shoes have graced many a Vogue magazine and are very popular amongst the fashion elite.

Say fashion, one more time.

Moving Back Home

I like to think of myself as a generally mentally stable person. A little kooky maybe, but medically and psychologically sane. Over the next few months, my sanity will be pushed further to the brink, perhaps never to return. The very serious matter of which I speak is something that most of us have had to go through, and from which many of us never recover: moving back in with your parents.

It doesn't matter whether you've been at university, been travelling or are suddenly hard up and need to live rent free for while, the effect is always the same; Crippling self loathing and an overwhelming desire to commit murder, ideally involving your parents/guardians and a freak poisonous blow-fish incident. Joke. [Just in case my parents do happen to die in a freak blow-fish incident, this should not be counted as lawful evidence against me.]

What do you mean I'm tasty with Wasabi?

Universally people hate moving back in with their parents and it can be for a number of reasons, and through flawless and thorough research, I have the top reasons (and their effects) below.

All The Questions
They seem harmless, but they're not. This is something that you should always bear in mind when answering a question put to you by either of your parents: there is always subtext. See some common examples below:

Where are you going? = Will you be drinking?
Who are you going with? = Will you be having sex afterwards?
What time will you be home? = How long can I walk around naked for?

Answering without thinking can have serious consequences: "Oh so you will be around to entertain your grandmother while we drink gin in the utility room!" And don't even think that they'll save any for you.

A recent survey, that was definitely not fabricated for the purpose of this article, revealed that the top worst question that a parent can ask a re-mover (one that has re-moved in) is...

Where were you last night?
Your brain goes into overdrive while you think of the right thing to say.

Last night you were dancing on the table at an office function before going to a karaoke bar where you sang your best rendition of 'When a Man Loves a Woman' and eventually wound up at a student flat somewhere in Shoreditch. You missed your last train and had to sleep on a random sofa with a questionable stain on the cushion before vomiting into the funnel you were chugging beer from at 4am.

You're the one in the baseball cap. What were you thinking??

Obviously you don't give the honest answer so you blurt out the perfect answer: "I worked late, went out for dinner with a millionaire potential husband and stayed a childhood friend's house." Or so you thought. [pause] "What childhood friend? Err..." This is the time where you get the "while you're under my roof" speech, usually lasting between 15 and 160 minutes.

Tip: Invent a person who lives close to the office and use them as your excuse for everything. Why are you late? Jim kept me back. Why do you smell of alcohol and it's only 7pm? Jim has a problem. Why did you email me a photocopy of your bottom? It's Jim's bottom. Jim emailed Dad instead of Dan. From my account.

Pay Rent or Pay Your Dues
So you've done the ironing - in prison terms, you've given the tough black guy 200 cigarettes - you can sit back, relax and watch TV, right? Wrong.

I hate to tell you this, but you get buggered a lot in this film.

Until you treat your parents like landlords, i.e. pay them an extortionate amount of money while you sit in a freezing cold room with a dripping tap, you are not entitled to homely comforts you had when you were a teenager. Big Bang Theory marathon on Sunday mornings? Forget it. Ordering pizza at 3am? Think again. There are a whole new set of rules now that you are an "adult" so cough up and move out or contribute around the house for a little slack.

Note: No matter how much cooking/cleaning/crying you manage, conjugal visits are off the table.

Darling, Stay Out Late Tonight
There is one thing that you never want to know about your parents, and that is that they still do it like teenagers as soon as they hear the front door close. So when they want you out the house for 'alone time' beginning the ever familiar sentence, "you're old enough now to know what goes on between a man and a woman when they're in love..." Tell them to shut the front door, grab essentials including paper bag for hyperventilation and vomiting, and - shut the front door.

Three hours should do it.

You're [insert age here] years old!
We've all heard it, from our parents, most often when we're doing something particularly immature like seeing how many digestive biscuits you can balance on the cat's head while he's sleeping. (I defy anyone to beat 6.) It can also hit us when we're doing something a little too mature than they're ready to deal with.

Tip: The perfect retort is: What were you doing when you were my age? The answer will indefinitely be worse than what you're doing at your age (have you seen what drugs they took in the 70s?) and will make them stop and think, for at least a minute.

One thing to remember is that as much as you want to move out/poison your parents, there isn't a day goes by (probably when you're balancing biscuits on the cat's head) that they don't look back on the day of your conception, sigh deeply, and think, "Should have used a condom."

Jumping on the Savilewagon

A year after Jimmy Savile was laid to rest, he went from much loved comic treasure to public enemy number one.

The cause? Groping.

It's a wonder people didn't see it.

Call it sexual molestation, call it abuse, call it what you want, the definition remains the same: unwanted and unwelcome touching by another person in an inappropriate manner.

Being a woman, I have had to deal with my fair share of inappropriate touching, especially on the tube which, as the legends go, is full of perverted men. Only the other week, a man insisted on touching my leg the entire N5 bus route. And what could I do? I was alone, he was drunk and there was no way I could have defended myself if he had gotten aggressive. So I sat there and dealt with it.

And I'm not the only one. Thankfully this is a relatively harmless tale, but women all over Britain fail to report sexual molestation, and even rape to anyone at all, including the police. But it seems there is not one woman in England that was alive in the 80s that is not claiming that they were harassed by Jimmy Savile.

That is not to say that everyone who has come forward is lying, Savile was obviously a lusty pervert, that much is clear. But has it been over exaggerated? The Telegraph actually wrote an article describing how David Walliam's unanswered letter to Jim'll Fix It was, in fact, a "lucky escape" from the sexual abuse that he was bound to have incurred had he been on the famous '80s show. I mean, really. Whether it be the media, or the numerous people coming forward with "the new scoop" on Sexually Savvy Savile, the whole Savile Affair has been whipped into a whirlwind that is exponentially out of proportion.

If true, the recent allegations that Savile abused young girls in hospital, and molested a 9-year-old boy in his dressing room is appalling and something that he should have been held responsible for, gone to prison for, and apologised for. But, unfortunately, it's too late for that.

The Savile Affair is out of proportion, not because the allegations may not be true, but because he was one of many.

As Calvin Harris so eloquently put: it was acceptable in the '80s. That's not to say it was right by any means, but it was accepted, at least accepted enough for those who knew about it to turn the other cheek, and that's why no one came forward at the time. Was it hushed up? Probably. But what does anyone seek to achieve in holding a trial against a dead man?

Busted Obama

The media are wrongly, however inadvertently, painting Savile as THE pervert of the '80s. To behave like Savile was the only one and, more crucially, to behave like it doesn't happen today is a gross misinterpretation. What about all the rest? The rest that are still alive and able to be held accountable for their actions? What about the people that knew about it and didn't do anything? And what about the people who are still doing it today?

The point is, maligning Jimmy Savile isn't helping anyone, especially not those that were the focus of abuse. It was a different time, and the attitudes in 2012 are a lot different to the attitudes thirty years ago. Rather than focus their attentions on Jimmy Savile, the media should instead work towards making the world safer for women and young girls today.

Joking aside, this is a serious problem in the work place with most cases of
inappropriate behavior from a colleague going unreported.

Men today should know that groping is not okay, as apparently, they need to be reminded.

So in summation: Not all men are perverts. But it's not just Jimmy Savile.

Bratislava: Worth a Stop

Few people would make special plans to go to Bratislava when somewhere like Prague is just around the corner with some of the best beer in the world. But allow me to let you in on a little secret: Bratislava has incredible beer too. And that's not all, just keep reading my fellow traveller and you'll be convinced to check it out for yourself.

Bratislava in a Beat

1. Beer is one euro a pint. 
2. Soup is a big deal.
3. The oldest park in Europe is in Bratislava.
4. The city centre is 15 minutes from the airport.
5. Get lost- you'll find something awesome.
6. There is no such thing as a rip off.
7. It's romantic - if you try to see it.
8. The toilets are immaculate.
9. Find luxury by the riverside.
10. Shopping is incredible.

If you have the opportunity to go, even if it's a stop along the way on an interrailing trip - do it. Here's what you have to do while you're there.

Food
Being a self proclaimed foodie, I always take the opportunity to sample local food unless the food in question is a part of one animal stuffed into the part of another animal. (That's why I've never been to Scotland.)

1st Slovak Pub
This huge restaurant looks like it was taken from the top of the Austrian Alps and literally dropped on top of a modern looking street. The inside of the 1st Slovak Pub is both amazing and disgusting. Amaznig because it literally has tapestries and old desks as dining tables, disgusting because it the most tacky, woodsy decor I have ever seen, but even that is in a good way. The food in incredible and cheap, with it being divided into: a student's staple and if you want to impress a girl. I actually went twice during my five day jaunt, the food and atmosphere were both worth seeing again.

Cocktails

Sky Bar
Even though I'm a foodie, I sacrificed my dinner money for an entire evening in Sky Bar. Imagine your regular classy London bar, put it 8 floors up and drop a castle next to it and that's pretty much Sky Bar. It's one of those places that you have to request to visit to the maitre'd on the ground floor - only she can give you access to the lift. Once you step in, the "cool" music (what do I know, I love Britney) and sexy waiters make you feel right at home. The cocktails on the list are innovative and beautiful (see my favourites below). For only 6 euros a cocktail, you can't possibly go wrong.

Casa Del Havana
Live music, tourists and cigars a plenty, Casa del Havana is the only Cuban themed bar I have been to that makes a real attempt at feeling Cuban. It took them 10 minutes plus to make two mojotis: so you know it's good.

Beer Barge
After a full day of wondering around a complicated town of trams and buses and bikes, you're tired, you're a little city stressed and you want a cold pint of deliciousness to cool you down. Look no further than in the Danube. The longest river in the world is filled with boats that serve beer for 1 euro. Yep, you heard that right, one euro. My personal favourite doesn't have a name, but you will notice it because of the umbrellas and delightful potted plants. The underneath is like Jack Sparrow goes disco dancing.

Sights

Bratislava Castle
Or Hrad Bratislava, has been open to the public for the last few years. It offers the best views in Bratislava and it's free. Don't get roped into going to the UFO - the only difference is you won't be able to see the UFO in your vista.

The Blue Church
So it's a church. And it's blue. Trust me, go and see it, it's awesome.

Hviezdoslavovo Promenade
Wandering down the cobbled streets of the Hviezdoslavovo Promenade, one could easily make the mistake of thinking they were somewhere far more upmarket. The hanging baskets, decorative water fountains and modern sculptures make the Hviezdoslavovo Promenade a perfect place to grab a coffee in one of the many bars that line it. Also a prime spot for people watching, particularly when they pose like embarrassing tourists. Ahem.

Activities

Cycling
Get sweaty and cycle around a bit, or alternatively, hop in a kayak. Great cycling trips usually wind up somewhere amazing, like the Devin Castle. Unfortunately, my attempt at finding the castle was disastrous. After cycling up a giant hill only to discover a residential area, I must admit I lost my temper and took it out on the nearest living thing. Which happened to be my darling boyfriend. Bless him for keeping his cool during a rant of I hate yous, it's all your faults and feet stamping - it was far better than I deserved.



Boat Trip
Vienna is just down the road from Bratislava, or rather, just down the river. A day trip to the capital of Austria costs 28 EUR for a return and you get to meet some Austrians (they're a lovely bunch, trust me).

Quick get over there before everyone else finds out Eastern Europe's best kept secret.

Olympics Shalympics

So the Olympics officially opened yesterday to what can only be described as an awkward start. Tens of thousands of people swarmed in Central London to mark the beginning of the historic event London has been preparing for for years. Good ol' Boris dove straight in by mentioning Spain's economic problems before grinning manically at the cameras, occasionally letting out a strangled cheer and a vague allusion of happiness, pride and great anticipation. Everyone cheering took a second to look at each other. "If we scream loudly, no one will notice what a shambles this is going to be."

After an appaling exit from Euro 2012 as England were defeated by the Italians, followed by Andy Murrays crashing defeat to Roger Federer, it has become clear: Britain doesn't win sports. That's okay though, because it's the taking part that counts. However, London is actually hosting the event, so it's not just pressure on the sportsmen, it is pressure on everyone in charge and the cracks have already started to show.


First it was G4S, staring at their shoes and admitting, "actually, we still need over 3,000 people to work security... mumblemumble." Next, it was border control threatening strike action and, in a related incident, an 11-year-old boy managing to get to Rome without a passport or boarding pass. Hell, if I knew it was that easy, I would be there right now. And, to top off the embarrassing list of Britain's headlines over the past few weeks, the next US President doesn't think we can pull it off either.

After Mitt Romney expressed his doubts about London's abilities to successfully host the Olympic Games, David Cameron responded by saying "Yeah, well, at least we're doing it in a city and not in the middle of nowhere like you did, Mitt 'Millions' Romney." So, I paraphrased. In what has turned into a playground fight between Britain and the US, Boris Johnson had the last laugh yesterday when he told crowds gathered in Hyde Park, "I hear there's a guy called Mitt Romney who wants to know if we are ready. Are we ready?" The Mayor of London was met with a resounding yes from the crowd, though whether London is ready remains to be seen over the next sixteen days. The funniest thing about all this? The Washington Post thinks Johnson was joking around during his Olympic speech. No, no America, he's really like that.

Am I the only person that has not been infected by what Boris Johnson has coined 'Olympomania'?



I know people that have spent four figures trying to get a ticket to the Olympic Games. I know people that have travelled far and wide to get to London. Whatever for?

Many of you will answer that simple question with a simple answer: for making history. The Olympics are indeed the most prestigious games, though those well remembered are often remembered for the wrong reasons: pissed of dictators and terrorist attacks. There is no denying that London 2012 is a historic event, and in years to come you may look back in pride and say, "I was there when Bolt won." However, in years to come, your memories of the Olympics will be told to your bored grandchildren who have to sit through your "and then, I swear it, his sweat splattered on me in the crowd," at least 28 times. 

"Interesting if true. But I know you're bullshitting, Grandma."

Yes, this article has much to do with my own feelings towards sports and exercise, and yes, most people will not care for my opinion. I'm not saying that I won't watch the Olympics at all, but it might be just to watch Tom Daley diving without feeling like an incorrigible pervert.

Fifty Shades of Disappointment

I always love to snuggle up with a good book on a rainy day, and since rainy days have been in abundance the last few weeks, it was a fantastic time to catch up with my reading. More specifically: the Fifty Shades trilogy. I'm slightly ashamed to say that I couldn't finish the Fifty Shades trilogy. I got to the beginning of the third book, when I thought, I think there's something better I could be doing with my time... How about a slating review? Good plan, Stan.

I started reading Fifty Shades of Grey determined to love it. It took 36 pages for me to hate it.

My first problem? You can't read it in public or anywhere near your parents. Even on a kindle, the tell tale blush on your face means everyone knows what you're reading and your furtive glances at fellow tube passengers only confirms it. But this, dear readers, is only the tip of the iceberg...

Christian Grey

Our first meeting of Christian Grey had me thinking of a Robert Pattinson lookalike, what with his wealth, arrogance and vaguely described beauty. As the first book goes on, and more and more is revealed about Mr Grey and his domineering ways, in my mind at least, his face became more gnarled, he grew a little shorter and began to take on the appearance of Tom Cruise as portrayed by South Park: the epitome of a pretty little psychopath.

From the start, we can see that Christian Grey is not your regular kind of fling. After he takes Anastasia's virginity and has her in the palm of his hand, he whips out his psychotic sex contract. Yes, reader, you read that right. Included in the contract are mentions of scary things like anal fisting and caning, and the rather more important matter of agreeing to be a sex slave for a period of three months. Like I said, pretty little psychopath.

As the author reveals more about the twisted mind of Christian Grey, the constant fucking - clear terminology is set out from the beginning - turns into a freak show, and as I continued to read, I did not feel turned on as so many of my friends had promised. I felt uncomfortable.

And please, a grammatically incorrect catch phrase that he stole from his brother? Lame doesn't even cover it. Laters baby my arse.

Seriously, I am.

Anastasia Steele

There is something so undeniably wrong about the central relationship in Fifty Shades which boils down to the female character. The author gives us a rather insignificant female lead who drinks weak tea, works in a boring shop and wears pig tails at the age of 21. It is easy to believe how she could be lured into some weird sex game with a crazed psychopath who happens to have a killer body, but just because it's believable doesn't mean it makes good reading.

Anastasia is plain, boring and weak. Too weak. She barely has an opinion of her own, she has never - never - found another man attractive and, what really gets me: she has never touched her own vagina. From the description, she dresses like a 14 year old, doesn't wear make up and needs a friend to help her shave her armpits. Considering I am in the same age bracket, and having met my fair share of 21-year-olds, I have never met anyone like that. Not even the smelly girl who always sat in front of me in second year was immune to the charms of men. The fact that this girl is so socially inept, sexually backwards, and doesn't know the basics of female grooming had me thinking of a girl much younger than she actually was, and I couldn't help feeling that the Christian/Anastasia relationship was sinister rather than sexy.

The Storyline

The main point to be made here is, what storyline? I read the first of the Fifty Shades trilogy and once I'd reached the half way point, I realised... nothing whatsoever has happened. Okay, so that may be a little harsh.

The story line of Fifty Shades of Grey is as follows:

Boy meets girl

Boy has sex with girl

Boy does kinky shit to girl

Boy buys girl car

Boy has sex with girl

Boy does kinky shit to girl

Boy has sex with girl

Boy is complicated

Girl is frustrated

Boy does kinky shit to girl

Boy has sex with girl

Boy does hardcore kinky shit to girl

They break up.

I threw down the book when I reached the last page. Seriously? I moaned on Twitter at the half-way point and I was promised it "gets addictive". This was a cruel lie, and for those of you who haven't read the books yet, you would do well to remember that.

"I just learned to read but... Holy shit, is that how bad writing can get?!"

The Sex

I'm not a professional novelist. I have never made a character come to life. And I have never thought of a plot for a book/series/other. But writing about sex? I shall be so bold as to claim this is something I know a thing or two about.

There is no denying that the Fifty Shades books are raunchy and, on occasion, the sex scenes sound like something I would definitely like to participate in. For the most part, however, the sex scenes are either incredibly repetitive (yes, we know you like it when it touches your boobies, Anastasia), mind-numbingly boring, or totally unbelivable.

Throughout the series of books, Christian never has a problem holding his end of the bargain, if you catch my drift, and neither does Anastasia fake a headache in favour of an early night. And, what I find the most frustrating: they climax at the same time every single time. That golden moment is a rare treat for most people, and I think I speak for the masses when I say… what about fanny farts? Nothing embarrassing ever happens in when Christian and Anastasia are in bed bed, and every time they have sex it is a blissful ideal comparable to a Hollywood creation only seen in the movies. Come on, E. L. James, we all know better than that.

And then there's the kinky shit. Call me vanilla, but as soon as I walk into a room my subconscious calls The Red Room of Pain, I am out of there faster than you can say "nipple clamps". Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's fun when the guy is the dominant one (small d) and the odd bit of kinky tomfoolery is sometimes the boost you need for a lacking sex life, but there is one quite serious matter I can't get over. He beats her with a belt until she cries, and she goes back to him. Sure he buys her gifts, sure he's hot, and she's totally in love with him, but that right there is the essence of an abusive relationship.

Conclusions

All in all, I hate Fifty Shades of Grey and it is absolutely beyond me why so many people are addicted to it. If I were to self-analyse (which I won't) I would say that the reason I can't stand the Fifty Shades books is because of my personal preferences in the bedroom. I don't have a Red Room of Pain, but if I did, let's just say I'd be the one with the key. Fifty Shades readers, stop reading about it and go out there and do it, put down your books and get yourself to the bedroom. It’s time to unleash your mojo.

50 Shades of Grey: What's All The Fuss About?

Like the Twilight Saga, 50 Shades of Grey has quickly become a phenomenon across the English speaking world. Filled with eroticism, sexual tension and some pretty kinky shit, Fifty Shades has sold 20 million copies world wide and has even surpassed our scar-headed friend Harry Potter in being the fastest selling paper back series of all time. It has also been credited with the sale of sex toys doubling over the last year.


Quite a feat.


The response to the books have not been wholly positive, however, with some groups arguing that the book is degrading to women in the submissive treatment of the main female character. And, of course, Christian groups have jumped on the bandwagon, with one Christian writer going so far as to explore the sexual tastes of, err, Jesus.


"Christ is not into domination, control, abuse, and humiliation."


He isn't? Well thanks for clearing that up, Dannah Gresh. I have a hard time thinking about what Christ is "into" (roll on waves of Catholic guilt) but I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to think about it.


I've heard some good things from friends, however, with one of my friends saying that she felt "naughty" reading it on the beach while another really convinced me to put my reading glasses on: 


"Stef, it's pure filth. You'd love it."


On that note, it looks like I'd better get reading. Watch this space for reviews, insights and opinions on the Fifty Shades books as I embark on a literary adventure into the darkest and dirtiest thoughts that have enthralled 20 million people.

Get Your Panties in a Twist

There are lingerie shops and there are underwear shops. Make sure you know the difference before buying yourself a bewitching bedroom get-up. If you don't know, well, luckily I've done all the work for you. An underwear shop sells pants and bras for the sole purpose of covering your unmentionables. A lingerie shops sells basques, stockings and assorted undergarments for the dual purpose of covering your lady parts and oozing sensuality. In other words, buying underwear and buying lingerie is a whole different game and you should really know what you're getting yourself into before you buy it. Put simply: lingerie = sex.


From über sexy to über the top, lingerie shops consist of vastly different apparel to suit the needs of their clientele. This article reviews the good, the bad (in a good way) and the ugly of lingerie shops here in the UK in order to find you the perfect bedroom piece to impress the man in your life, or alternatively, to simply sashay in front of the mirror. You go, girl.


Ann Summers


In terms of lingerie, Ann Summers' latest revamp has been a huge success. Their new campaign has transformed the once 'trampy' lingerie shop into a rather desirable outlet for purchasing classy underwear that still makes a man want to whip out his unmentionable. Their other products, however, I was less than impressed with.

Lie back and think of England.

This may surprise you, but I'm not mad on sex toys. I've got a standard bullet, but if I'm perfectly honest, they intimidate the shit out of me. I've taken a look on a few websites for "the perfect dildo" (gah!)  but it never goes further than my online shopping basket and then I am secretly thrilled when my basket expires and my obligation to buy a sex toy disappears. 


After a few near online purchases, I decided to man up and go to Ann Summers where you can test the products (not on self obviously - vile thought - just feel intensities etc.)  and where I could talk to a human being rather than read an online review that boasts "you won't want to put it down!". Perhaps I only speak for myself, but I find that is a quality best attributed to books rather than any other bed-time activity.


I approached the back of the shop, which features shelves upon shelves of rubbery phalli, with much trepidation. I mean, I had been to Ann Summers before, but there is something rather different about going in with the sole intent of buying a lady pleasure maker. I tried to act cool, stealing glances at the varying shapes and sizes of vibrators and trying to calculate an estimated budget.
"Can I help you?" A sales assistant asked.
I got a little flustered but I managed to get my words out and ask for a (cringe) "beginners" sex toy. She talked me through the different textures, the different vibrations, the different sizes, blablasexybla.


"So, what exactly is the difference between a Rampant Rabbit and a regular Rabbit?" I asked, gaining confidence in my sex toy dialogue. Unfortunately, here is where the thrill of Ann Summers ended for me. She didn't have an answer for me and when she tried to demonstrate the vibrations of a selection of sex toys, they had all run out of battery. Then to top it all off, she pulled out a Rabbit that, I'm not even exaggerating, was about 2ft long. She saw my face which was a mixture of bewilderment and fear and then said, "I suppose it's not really the right choice for a beginner, is it?"


I walked out a little later having purchased nothing but a battery for my trusty little bullet, but with my dignity (and vaginal walls) still intact.


Stef Recommends: Kate Satin Cami Suspender (a sexy surprise with a sixties twist)


Agent Provocateur


The thing that annoys me about Agent Provocateur is that people buy it with a smug smile playing across their lips thinking that they're more 'classy' than the girl that spent a fraction of the price on her sexy lingerie. The fact of the matter is, Agent Provocateur sells sparkly nipple covers just like the next Sluts R Us.


There is no denying that the lingerie is beautiful. The silk and lace feels amazing on your skin and as soon as you put it on, you never want to take it off. Unlike some lingerie, everyone looks amazing in Agent Provocateur because it does something to your body that other brands just cannot do. The only bad thing about it is because it's a little too nice. The money that you spent on it and the reputation that the underwear has means that everyone is a little protective over their Agent Provocateur. The result? It doesn't get out much and when it's on, it is strictly for display only.

"Touch it and I'll let the dogs loose."

Going to Agent Provocateur is rather like going to a club in Mayfair. You finish your experience feeling luxuriant and satisfied, but you could have had far more fun going to your local, where no one cares if you spill anything.


Stef Recommends: Mercy Corset (difficult to put on, painful to be in, but beautiful to see)


Boux Avenue


Not to be confused with your run of the mill underwear shop, Boux Avenue is a delight in the broad market of lingerie. I walked into the shop in the Bullring, Birmingham, and it was like stepping into a scented escape from all the sweaty, Brummie shoppers. The whole store smells incredible and with the soft carpets and flattering lighting, looks exactly like the bedroom you've always wanted, or perhaps the walk-in wardrobe of Blair Waldorf.

My new dream wardrobe.

Not only does the shop look and smell fantastic, the lingerie on offer is as beautiful as its home. Boux Avenue caters for both sexy and pretty tastes so in the changing room you can try out as many looks as you like: Candy Girl, Sultry Seductress and Holy Hell Hot. And just you wait until you get in that changing room. The floors, like the foyer of the store are carpeted and the oval mirror is framed with sprayed silver. What's more, you can change the lighting from Dawn to Dusk so you make sure you can see yourself in the best, and worst, possible lights before someone else does.


The store has a luxury feel paired with affordable prices which is rare when it comes to lingerie in the UK. The selection in store isn't particularly large in the Bullring, but their website plays host to a huge amount of different styles of lingerie, making it one of the places to buy your undergarments in the UK. With a section on their website devoted to 'Babydolls and Petticoats', this store manages to stay right on the border of Cutetown and Fort Sexy, which is no easy feat, believe me.


Stef Recommends: Tori Satin And Lace Chemise (bedtime will never be the same again)


Sex Toy City


Unlike the metaphorical geographic location of Boux Avenue, Sex Toy City is the capital of Slut. But don't let that completely  put you off. After perusing their website, I discovered that Sex Toy City not only sells more sex toys than Ann Summers, it also caters towards all different sexual preferences (see Fleshjack). Each sex toy comes with a little note telling you what it is (again, see Fleshjack - I was enlightened) and what it is best for, rather than the rather unhelpful tips from the Ann Summers staff.


There's no point sugar coating it (though ironically, some of it is sugar coated) the 'Lingerie and Erotic Fashion' sold at Sex Toy City is what my grandmother would call "blue". The available attire is certainly not for the fainthearted, but it is my personal belief that everyone should have something a little avant garde in their underwear drawer. There is certainly a wide selection with body stockings and C-strings (a most innovative tight dress + VPL solution) as well as corsets and peep-hole bras and knickers. 

Talk about peep-hole.

If another person asks me how to spice up their sex life, I would definitely send them to Sex Toy City for some riskier than risque lingerie. If it doesn't serve quite the desired effect, at least you can both have a good laugh about that time he came home and you were on the kitchen table in latex peep-hole body stocking.


Stef Recommends: Dragonfly Fantasy Clitoral Strap-on Massager (look how pretty it is and you'll see!)

Fork Me! Top Tips For an Impromptu Sleepover

Have you ever woken up, stumbled to the bathroom and then felt the gradual realisation that, actually, this is not your bathroom? I have. And if I have, other people have, because let's face it, I don't get out much. If you have ever woken up in a place you have not planned to be and are lacking essential essentials for looking your best, here are some fool proof tips to get you out of there looking fantastic. Or at least not looking like you slept in a meth lab.

Fork It
I'm not talking about his penis you filthy-minded (and possibly sadistic) readers. I'm talking about your hair. The Little Mermaid may not know a thing about how to handle a sea witch, but my oh my has she taught me a thing or two about hair maintenance. Find a clean fork from the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom. Take the fork, and brush your hair with it. Yes, I'm being serious.

If Rihanna's doing it in public, everybody's doing it in secret.

Finger It
No, not that, for goodness sake. Being a surprise house guest can lead to many an awkward scenario, the top ten of which are to follow, but you could at least flash a winning smile before you get the hell out of there. So, assuming you don't carry a toothbrush in your clutch, slick a bit of toothpaste on your finger and rub it over your teeth and tongue, rinse with water and you'll be as good as... well as good as you can get your teeth clean with your finger.

Rub It & Slap It
Now you are beginning to disgust me. In this instance, I am not advocating Tulisa-style actions with your selected gentleman's love stick. In fact, I completely reprimand this action in any sexual scenario (reasons for which I'll get into in another article: Failures in Fellatio - watch this space.) I am talking about your face. On a night out, ladies tend to take out eyeliner, lipgloss and powder. While these will do the trick for refreshing your make up, your pale, sickly complexion the morning after the night before cannot be fixed by these products alone. Simply rub and lightly slap your cheek bones to increase blood flow to the area and find yourself looking refreshed and glowing. Warning: effects are temporary and may last up to 80 seconds; the exact length of the average awkward goodbye.

Ooh, and coffee helps.

Avoid It
Okay, now I am talking about his penis. Hungover and feeling dirty, excessive movement is the last thing you want to do if you in order to avoid vomiting on the first sleepover. Trust me, it ain't pretty and if you want to embark on another sleepover adventure, you'll have a lot of making up to do.

The best thing you can do is get out as quickly as possible to leave your date (be it impromptu or not) with the memory of you stumbling charmingly to his bed rather than lying corpse-like on his sofa until 4pm. Happy forking!

A plea for hygiene

A good friend recently asked me this simple question about the girl he was sleeping with:

"Does she know how bad her vagina smells?"

Poor pussy. Don't let it happen to you.

I broach this awkward topic with some trepidation. While I often write about what makes sex nice, mind-blowing and hilarious for women, I have never written about what makes sex bad for men, mostly because I am not a man. Apparently, ladies, the number one way to turn a man off is to smell like your uncle's feet down there. So, there you have it.

Anyway, I have a horrific exam tomorrow so this is just a quick note to say: keep it clean and be considerate. While I'm here, the same goes for the gentlemen out there who have a trunk like a skunk.


Peace out.

Guys, you're the needy ones

Picture this. You and the lads are down at the pub and discussions of the premier league turns to sex as someone inevitably lowers the tone by making a ball-in-net sex pun. Phrases like "she's getting too needy" and "So I'm like: bitch please, I ain't your boyfriend, I'm just using you for sex" get thrown around followed by mysoginistic laughter. You know the huh huh huh laugh that guys do specifically when they're making a derogatory comment about their latest bit on the side.

Relax, I'm no feminist, and this article isn't a long list of reasons why men suck (For articles on Men Suck, I'm Self Loathing and My Relationship With My Animals Ruined My Chance of Happiness, see Liz Jones, 2012: 129-167). No. However, this article will reveal why, contrary to popular belief, men are more needy than women, especially when it comes to friends with benefits.

Stereotypes are there for a reason, and we have Bridget Jones and Cosmopolitan magazine to thank for that. It's no secret that girls can be needy, but most of us do 'crazy' with a little more dignity than that. Examples include:

"So he didn't call when he said he would but I know that he likes me. As you can see from this graph, the differing reasons for not calling are at the bottom, with the height of each bar corresponding to the likelihood of the reason, with Lost His Phone at the top and Got Involved in an Unfortunate Incident at the Zoo Resulting in Detainment at the bottom. You will notice that the hateful and impossible He's Just Not That Into You does not appear on the graph. Thus, he really likes me."

"What do you think he meant by 'see you on Monday'? Did he mean as a date? Or is it because we work together? I just don't know and I'm feeling really down about it. I'm going to have to comfort eat these muffins and invite my girlfriends over with a bottle of wine, each, so they might be able to help me decipher his mixed messages."

And of course,

"Now we've slept together the next logical step is simply to get married. I mean, I'm not going to be in my reproductive prime forever and I'll be damned if I have a child out of wedlock like that slut from school Jessica Warner."

Ring any bells? Yes, if you're a man. If you're a woman you're probably sharpening your nail file right now and thinking of coming over and giving me a piece of your mind. (If you do, I'm going to have to insist you participate in my next questionairre to help inform my research on whether stress levels are directly proportionate to sex drive.) The fact of the matter is, women have been portrayed as such by men who have not taken into account that us ladies can be pretty heartless when it comes to friends with benefits. It just so happens that when we do have feelings we're excruciatingly honest about it.

That's our Bridget.

In a study conducted by the University of Wisconsin, the findings proved that men are more needy than women. The study asked 400 people whether or not they had feelings towards their friend after they had slept with them and it was men, not women, that formed the majority. 

What this study tells us is the gender stereotypes we form about women, and indeed men, in our heads, are false. Furthermore, and this is the crucial point, it tells us that men and women cannot be friends. Like when Harry met Sally, we all put a person of the opposite sex in to one of three categories when we meet them:

1. I would

2. I wouldn't

3. I would if they shaved their beard/lost weight/changed another variable

Even if they shoot straight into the 'I wouldn't' section, the damage has been done. You've already thought about sleeping with this person and, therefore, can never be friends in the true sense of the word. "Attraction in friendship is happening, and it's persistent," says lead author April Bleske-Rechek, associate professor of psychology. "I'd venture to say, based on all our data, that in the majority of (opposite-sex) friendships there's at least a low level of attraction. And if it's coming more from one friend than the other, it's probably the guy."

Now, this doesn't necessarily mean that you should get your boyfriend to ditch his best female friend, because if he's with you then she's safely tucked away in category 2. So put down that voodoo doll and get on with your life. Still, it is something to think about. Every guy that you consider a friend has thought about you naked, and what's more, according to this study, it's more than just physical attraction. Because of the aforementioned friendship, he may even have rather strong feelings for you. Of course, you'll never know about it if he does because men keep their emotions under the surface most of the time. Unlike female relationships that regularly consist of heart felt, emotional talks, men's relationships consist of beers, shrugs and a lot of swallowing. Feelings that is.

So the next time you hear a guy saying, "Yeah, it was just sex, I don't have feelings for her or anything." You're perfectly within your right to smirk a little and give the guy in question a knowing glance as he continues to go on about "just a shag" and "intercourse with a good friend is totally acceptable and not at all weird or suggestive of daddy issues." And, spare a thought for the girl in question who's probably saying the exact same thing to her friends. Except,  according to this study, she's the only one who means it.

The Worst Things About Living With People

At some point in our lives, we have all lived with someone else whether it be with some mates at uni, a flatshare until you can afford your own place, or a significant other. It starts off great. Everyone's a little bit nervous, trying to make sure that they're being considerate and trying to make a good impression as The Awesome Housemate. As time goes on, people begin to get lazy. You know each other's good and bad points by now, you know each other well enough to talk about poos and pubes and you know not to speak until everyone's had their coffee fix.

And that's when things go drastically wrong.

1. The Transition

At university, the 'done thing' is to search for a house by January of your first year. You have to choose the people you live with out of a bunch of guys and girls you've only known for a couple of months. It often takes a while for everyone to decide on a good number of people, all girls, all guys and, most importantly, what house. It's a stressful process, and you end up living with people that, in reality, you barely know and the truth is, it can go either way. A person you barely knew could turn out to be your favouritest drinking buddy a few months down the line, and the guy you were dreading living with because he looked dirty might be the cleanest one of all. Unfortunately, it can also turn out for the worst: someone you thought would be your BFF forever might end up rubbing you the wrong way - how were you supposed to know they only shower at two in the morning? The transition from acquaintance to friend is never quicker when you're forced into the same living space as another person, but remember; the opposite is also true.

2. Clean Freaks and Freaks of Nature

"Look, I appreciate you cleaning, but could you at least wear pants?"

Picture this: You wake up in the morning, go downstairs and, lo and behold, the dishwasher is emptied, the surfaces are clean and there is a fresh bottle of washing up liquid next to the sink. The kitchen fairy? No, it's that clean housemate of yours, and she expects some appreciation. It's a lesson to be learned that the person who puts the most effort in to make the house nice for everyone is often taken for granted. Help out once in a while because while there is The Clean Housemate, there is also The Dirty Housemate, and no one wants that label. Clean freaks are one thing, but there are also just plain freaks. Y'know, the guy that smells his plate before he uses it, the girl that has forgotten the meaning of the word 'vegetable' and let's not forget the dude that likes to sit in the dark in the kitchen in the middle of the night when you go to get a drink of water. They may be nuts, but freakish people can be absolute gems, and if they aren't... Well, your contract runs out soon, doesn't it?

3. The Good, The Bad and the Dirty

They say that you never know someone until you live with them, which is why you may be in for a few shocks when you say "I do" to moving in with anybody. Living in a group is difficult as there are people that you get on with and people that you don't for reasons that can be simply put down to a personality clash. The best thing about living in a group is that there is always someone that you can depend on; that person who is always up for chat, will drop everything to split a bottle of wine during times of need, and that will never, ever spill your secrets. Then there is that person who is infallibly fun, the one whose first priority is having a laugh and who always has a smile on their face. However, living in a group means there is always a risk that you'll end up living with someone that can be dirty, inconsiderate, that steals your butter or worse - someone that watches Stars Dancing With The Voice On Ice Factor every. single. night. Whatever rubs you up the wrong way, there is a positive for every negative and just as people you love have bad points, the people that grate you have good points and it's up to you to find them.

4. The Extra Housemate

"If you gave me a chance, we could be friends too. Now turn around and show me your ass."

So you've signed your contract, you're living with three great people and it all seems to be working out. Then it hits you: there's a fourth one. Like Roger from American Dad, you don't know where they came from, but suddenly, they are everywhere. Waking you up to go to the loo at 5am like clockwork. Cooking the smelliest, messiest meals that requires the entire kitchen. Sitting in the living room watching Match of the Day. More often than not, The Extra Housemate is a girlfriend or boyfriend of someone that you're living with, or it could be someone's best friend from home that happens to adore uni life, or it could even be a good mutual friend that has simply settled in a little too well. It doesn't matter how nice these people are, it doesn't matter if they leave a scent of the nicest perfume everywhere they go and it doesn't matter if they help take out the bins. The point is, you have not signed up to live with them, and it feels unfair that there's another person around the house that has permanently changed the house dynamic. What you need to remember is, be this person a significant other or friend of your housemate, this extra person is making your housemate happy.

5. Bite Your Tongue

The most important thing in any relationship is communication. Talking about things can really help to sort things out, clear the air and always results in understanding, if not anything else. Not with housemates. Of course, there are certain things that need to be talked about, like if someone's having a tough time, to sort out the cleaning rota and to gossip about last night's antics. Issues, problems or dislike of your housemates should never, ever be discussed. To tell someone that you have a problem with their behaviour or simply their personality could never solve anything. Confrontation leads to conflict, and while conflict can be a good thing in almost all other situations, it is different when you live with someone. Screaming and shouting may feel good at the time, but then you have to pass each other on the stairs, see each other at dinner and awkwardly pass each other the remote. Not only is this an extremely uncomfortable situation for you, it makes things tense for all your other housemates and creates a horrible atmosphere in a house where you all have to coexist. So breathe deep, get a drink, slap a smile on your face and try not to snap. What's the worst that can happen?

As for me, I have things that get on my nerves to the point of excessive drinking, but my housemates are golden and I wouldn't trade them in for the world. None of us are perfect, and I know for sure that I am not the ideal housemate. I forget to do the washing up just like the next person, I sometimes sing myself to sleep, I'm often irritable, I've got a weird thing about toilets, and my boyfriend's coming over in a minute. We're making fish for dinner.

Samantha Brick: Maybe you're just a bitch?

If you hadn't heard of journalist Samantha Brick before last week, you certainly have now.

Samantha Brick as caused a two day storm on Twitter, after she wrote an article on the Daily Mail entitiled: 'Why do women hate me for being beautiful?'. Since her article went online, she received 5,000 comments and gained the Daily Mail 1.5 million hits to their website. Impressive.

But why has it got people so riled up?

Firstly, it is critical that we look at the offending subject matter: Brick's beauty.



"I'm not smug." Really? Really?!



Now Samantha Brick is not an unattractive lady. Her airbrushed photograph reveals perfectly highlighted blonde hair, groomed nails and a simple complection that makes her a particularly unoffensive sight for the eyes. In fact, I bet thousands of men are really into that over-the-hill school teacher simplicity. But beautiful, she is not. Now I could sit here for hours and try to define beauty, or I could point out some of the universally considered beauties of the day. So I'm gonna go with the latter, because I'm lazy as shit.

The sexy and smouldering Angelina Jolie. The cute-as-a-button Zooey Deschanel. The blonde bombshell that is Scarlett Johansen. These woman can be labelled as 'beautiful'. In fact, they are labelled as beautiful every single day. But, now here is the ever so crucial difference; they have never labelled themselves as beautiful. And that's what everyone is so pissed off about.

Samantha Brick herself realised in the article that she was "no Elle McPherson" but nevertheless claimed to be so beautiful that her looks have affected her career, her relationships and her social life. What she seems to be missing is that no one, not even her idol Elle McPherson is that beautiful.

Even comapnies and celebrities are jumping on the bandwagon.

Samantha Brick claimed that people would stop on the street to admire her beauty. Not only that, they would then go and buy flowers for her, buy her champagne and even train tickets, that's how beautiful she (says she) is. Most hilariously of all, she now comes to expect this kind of behaviour wherever she goes and takes random acts of kindness as a token to her beauty. After a airline captain sent over a bottle of champagne on a flight, she writes, "While it was lovely, it wasn't a surprise. At least, not for me."

But the article wasn't about how beautiful she is. It was about the dark side to beauty, and how her godforsaken looks nearly ruined her life. No, not rape. No, not human trafficking either. Erm, no, not eating disorders. Shit, this is getting a little embarrasing now. No, it's not to do with mental issues either, though I suppose that it debatable. Yes, you've got it! Her beauty caused no significant life problems whatsoever.

Samantha Brick details how she was prevented from climbing the career ladder because her female boss was jealous of her undeniable beauty. Another boss told her that her dress sense was "too distracting" for her colleagues, forcing her to don unflattering pant suits. She talks about how her friends would turn to ice whenever she was around their husbands. But why, oh why, can't she see that this has nothing to do with looks?

Since the internet has turned against her, Samantha Brick has written a comeback story, saying that the reaction has "proved" the fact that people hate her because she is beautiful. What's more, she is now trying to write the reaction off as "a gender issue". No one hates Samantha Brick because she is beautiful, I think that is clear to see. In fact, no one really hates Samantha Brick. Mostly people are a little embarrassed for her and the rest find it absolutely hilarious that someone has turned around, in real life and written online on the Daily (bloody) Mail: "Don't hate on me for being really, really, ridiculously good-looking."

She may be very hurt by the comments people have made about her, but it seems that she still doesn't understand that no one thought she was particularly ugly before that article, but stating that you are beautiful inevitably brings critique.

Samantha Brick has been deluded into thinking that it is her beauty that has resulted in women "hating" her. If it has been universally aknowledged that she is simply not that pretty, then what else could it be? After pondering this for quite some time I have come to this astounding and somewhat revolutionary conclusion: Maybe she's just a bitch.