Defined lines

Has anyone had the chance to watch the feminist version of Robin Thicke's song, Blurred lines? If not, (where have you BEEN?!) please go and look it up now. Or scroll to the bottom of this blog - it'll be there in all its glory.

The original song, Blurred lines is, while wonderfully catchy and upbeat, being accused of blurring the lines between consensual sex and rape which, to be fair, is pretty likely if you've seen the unrated version of the video. The earlier version of the music video, (the unrated one), was released in March and featured models Emily Ratajkowski, Jessi M'Benhue and Ella Evans who are all naked, (sorry, they do wear flesh coloured thongs and high heels), dancing around, flipping their hair and pouting for the camera. Initially, it was removed from YouTube for violating its terms of service. However, it was later restored but has been flagged up as 'inappropriate.'

If you've heard the song and seen the video, then you've probably had the same conversations that I've had about it. Is it sexist or is it empowering women?

As I've said, the tune is cracking, but the words and deeper meaning are offensive. To me, the song is pretty much about 'liberating' a good girl by proving to her that, actually, what she really wants is the wild sex that she isn't asking for.

Robin Thicke

If you're still in any doubt as to whether or not this song is derogatory against women, Robin Thicke has actually confirmed it. In an interview with GQ, he said, "We tried to everything that was taboo. Bestiality, drug injections, and everything that is completely derogatory toward women. Because all three of us are happily married with children, we were like, "We're the perfect guys to make fun of this."'

Wow....

So, as we can see, there's nothing 'blurry' about the male artist's derogatory intentions, but what about the naked, (sorry, pretty shoes and thong wearing), models involved in the project? Emily Ratajkowski, the beautiful brunet, Anne Hathaway lookalike model in the video (who I wouldn't recommend looking at if you don't want to spark off a spectacular drop in your self esteem) , dismissed Thicke's comments. In an interview with Esquire, she said that the models were told to have a 'sort of confidence' and a 'sarcastic attitude about the whole situation.' According to Ratajkowski, the eye contact with the camera and the attitude that they expel puts them in a 'position of power.'

When we think about it, she makes an interesting point really. Women, (and men alike) have had pressure to look a certain way thrown at them by the media for years now and, personally, that makes me feel like I am not able to enjoy the way I look without comparing my body to those images of women with an hourglass body, blonde hair and big boobs. But women should be proud of their bodies. According to Ratajkowski, semi-naked female bodies on television can be empowering.

Emily Ratajkowski

What happens when the half naked women on screen in high heels is being objectified by viewers, but doesn't herself feel objectified?  

That's a tricky one, isn't it?

It's feasible that the models in Thicke's video felt empowered and that their performance could have instilled confidence in many women, but does that really outweigh the negative impacts? Many people may have watched the video and seen it as a joke, but what about those who didn't? What about the people who might have watched the video and took in the idea that women can be treated like objects, without consent?

Personally, I don't find anything revolutionary about a video in which men and women partake in time old stereotypes. It's getting boring now, surely I'm not the only one who thinks that. If you want some rebellion, click the link below and watch the video. Now that's empowerment.

Defined lines 

University of Auckland students remake, 'Defined Lines.' 

The video is, without a doubt, absolutely brilliant. What baffled me about the whole thing was that it was removed (very briefly) from YouTube yesterday for unknown reasons. I can't see why the site had any reason to take that sort of action in regards to the remake, 'Defined lines', because all I can see when I watch it is a bunch of University of Auckland students having a bit of fun and putting across a positive message. The video shows how men would react to being objectified as women are thought to have been in the original. It has been watched more than 450,000 times since being posted on August 30th and, as I've said, it's brilliant. Far better, far more positive and far funnier than the original.  

Women can be just as bad as men sometimes, I know that. As this remake proves, sexism isn't all about the degradation and objectification of women. It's about society trying to define us based on our gender. Women are portrayed as overemotional and are objectified. Men are portrayed as unemotional and sexually obsessed. So when a women grabs some guys arse in a club, it's ok, because society says that's the kind of things that men like. Right? No. Wrong. Completely wrong.

Ending sexism isn't about empowering women or empowering men. It's about giving everyone the right to be who they want to be without the judgement of society telling them who they should be, how they should act and how they should look because of what's between (or not between) their legs. Simple.

Welcome to the valleys

As most of you who have met me or have read this blog thoroughly will know, I originate from a little town in the South Wales valley named Merthyr Tydfil. In this area of Wales, we are simple folk - there are around 55,000 of us unwillingly residing there, many of us don't speak welsh unless we are drunk, (which we usually are), we have ironworks and steelworks that are, instead of being used to fuel our poor unemployment rates, used as museums that no one ever goes to, and it is nearly always raining.  Welcome!

The real valleys 

I'm not portraying my hometown in the best light to be perfectly honest, but then again, not many people will. The ironic thing it that I absolutely adore Merthyr, and my home villages of Aberfan and Troedyrhiw, (which are legitimate names, I assure you.) Since I left the Valley's upon receiving my A level results, I've been feeling very nostalgic about the place. Don't get me wrong, the moment I found out I was leaving home, I was ecstatic. Like most students, I was looking forward to having my own space, freedom to do what I wanted and when; to eat, sleep, work and stumble in from a night out whenever I liked, to essentially become my own person. But unlike most of my fellow students, I was also excited to escape from the shackles of Merthyr Tydfil. I was sick and tired of always driving towards a mountain, never mind my destination, of seeing sheep grazing on the side of the roads as I made my way to school in the mornings, and of being known by everyone as 'Mike Parry from the council's daughter', or 'Lynne Marshall's granddaughter', (my Nan is on what we refer to as the council of village elders.) More importantly, I was sick and tired of being tarred with a brush that says that Merthyr is one of the most miserable places to live in Britain, alongside some generally high statistics regarding youth crime and drugs.

Of course, this was all before the moving out stage. As I approached the last weeks of living in Merthyr, I found that I had fallen in love with it all over again. I started to appreciate everything a little bit more, even the abundant amounts of foliage and farm animals casually strolling down the road. So by the time it came to my departure, I found that I didn't really want to leave.

From my arrival to Swansea University to this very day, I cannot get through a conversation without someone asking or clarifying where I'm from, followed by a startled gasp and then an awkward silence, as I silently curse the person in front of me for judging my wonderful town. I can't say I blame them, because the media portrays us to be the worst place to live in Wales, especially the latest show to come out of it, which most of the population have probably seen by now.

Let's start on the right footing; The MTV 'hit' show, aptly named The Valleys, is absolute shit. I realise I'm a bit late off the mark on this one but, seriously, I've watched one episode of the show and I can't see what would possess anyone to want to continue watching it beyond the first few seconds. The general idea of the show is that MTV locate a bunch of young people from the Welsh valleys, (even though not all of them are actually from the valleys), who apparently have big dreams and aspirations of 'making it' in the music/modelling/porn star industries. These like minded individuals all believe that their only chance of making it is to get out of the valleys and try their luck in the big city of Cardiff. Not London, the capital of the United Kingdom, but Cardiff, the capital of the country they're trying to escape from. The mind boggles.

MTV - The Valleys cast

So, the show opens and the cast of Barbie dolls and drama kings come up on the screen and say how there are no opportunities in the valleys, no jobs and tell the cameras about how sick they are of the fresh air, the sheep, the hills and the pound shops, (which, as a student, I personally love), generally begging to be taken from this God awful place and leave the valleys forevermore, putting me out of my misery of ever seeing them in Tesco again. For those of us who live there or have lived in the valleys, those ideas aren't generally new, and not entirely out of place, especially regarding the unemployment rates. However, after spending 18 years of my life in the valleys and nearing 2 years in the city of Swansea, I can safely say that there are plenty of people in the cities who would also moan about the lack of jobs, who would say that they're sick of the concrete, stray dogs and cars. Basically, people seem to always be discontented wherever they are.

With all that being said, I still have a huge problem with the show.

Like most people who have objections to it, I could moan about the drunkenness, the immorality of it all and the irresponsible and sometimes vile attitudes towards sex and interconnected relationships that the show promotes. But, I think that that may be a little hypocritical, especially on the issue of states of intoxication, so I'll leave that job to the older and more moral generation of the Valleys. Likewise, I'm not going to do the obvious and bang on about how the show paints the valleys in a bad light. It's obvious that not everyone in the valleys behaves in that way, even if some of them do. But that can be said for any area of the UK. Nobody actually meets me and expects me to get my tits out within five seconds of meeting them, just because I'm from the valleys. It doesn't work like that, and, sorry to disappoint, but I certainly don't work like that.

MTV logo - The Valleys

My main concern about this show is that it promotes laziness, spinelessness and escapism. The idea that the show promotes to young people is that if you live in an area where 'making it' is tough, you need to leave it, rather than face the situation up front and deal with it. It's so easy to identify the problem and then moan about it and, let's be honest with ourselves, many people from the valleys do exactly that. It takes a lot more creativity and courage to make something good out of a bad situation, but I think that it is achievable. I admit that the opportunities in Merthyr are few and far between, but that doesn't mean that people should just pack up and go. You have to make your own opportunities, open your own doors and realise that not everything you want in life is going to be handed to you on a silver platter, as much as I would like it to be. That goes for anywhere, not just the valleys. Admittedly, I'm probably a bit hypocritical saying that, as I don't live there anymore but, for what it's worth, I'd go back in a heartbeat, even though I left and am currently working towards a degree in 'the city'. That kind of amazing stuff doesn't happen to someone who aims to grab five minutes of fame through becoming a WAG or a glamour model or joining a shit reality show that isn't even realistic.

   

I appreciate that the valleys don't usually have huge multiplex cinemas, bendy buses with TV screens on board or a vibrant nightlife beyond having a flagon in the park and running when you hear police sirens. Admittedly, whenever I venture to London to visit my boyfriend, I am always in awe of everything going on there and sometimes wish that we had all those wonderful things back at home. However, unlike London or any city in Wales, we do have some things going for us in the valleys beyond showing off our tits, the farm animals all over the place and the MTV show 'The Valleys', and they come in threefold;

1) An epic countryside to abuse

2) A genuine community spirit

3) And, above all else, a tidy accent. 

The naked truth about Kate

Does anyone read the French Magazine Closer?

I know, I know, stupid question. Of course you bloody well don't. Unless you're plunging head first into the world of fashion as a career (which, according to one of my friends who has made that disastrous mistake, requires learning languages that you will never use, rather than sitting at the sewing machines making sparkly clothes), reading Closer isn't high up on your bucket list. It certainly isn't high on my bucket list - it might just be after listening to Rebecca Black on repeat or gauging out my eyeballs.

Clooooooozuuuurreeee - "The photos that will go around the world."

Honestly, I don't see the attraction of reading tabloid journalism to find out which celebrity has been cheating on their other half, or whose been seen absolutely car parked outside some fancy nightclub. The amount of times I have been lying in gutters on Wind Street, chatting to Hobos about the fine art of haggling have been numerous... More than I care to mention, actually, but you don't see people around Swansea University saying; "Did you see Gemma out on Wind Street the other night?" (Insert bitchy comments about my inability to hold my drink here.) Let's face it, people have better things to talk about than my social outings and err.. adventures. Plus, I love telling my own stories of my drunken ventures on Friday nights... and Saturdays and Sundays and Mondays and.. well, you get the point... So why shouldn't the same thing apply to celebrities?

Well, I hear you cry, they're famous! They should be prepared to be judged and prepare to be involved in massive scandals that revolve around sex tapes and topless photographs. They need to prepare themselves for the onslaught of the media and public attention that is to be brought their way when they become famous. While this may all be true, does it make our constant discussions about celebrities about their lives under the glare of the media and the public any more justified?

No - Not really. The whole issue with Kate Middleton only emphasises that point.

The Duchess of Cambridge and sweetheart of Great Britain, has been left red-faced after a French magazine published photos of her topless in a private chateau in France, with her beloved husband and some long lost relation of his - that family is literally related to everyone. Of course, when I say topless, every innocent soul immediately thinks of a bad Photoshop job, but no my dears. I mean photographs of her modest bosoms, placed on display by the magazine for all to see, leaving Queen Lizzie reaching for a pair of specs and grimacing.

The French version of Closer magazine, which is also called Closer but you have to say it with a funny and stuck up accent,  (it's probably something like Clooooozuuuurrrreee),  published the photos last week, which showed our great nation that the future Queen of England has pixelated breasts. I suppose this is good news for women, like me, who find themselves constantly comparing their bodies to that of good ol' Kate. It's nice to find out that the Duchess has at least one thing about her body that isn't perfect. Personally, the 'Kate Middleton photo scandal', as they are calling it, is not really about the boobs.

For me, the fact that her privacy was so grotesquely invaded is the main issue. The photos were obviously taken without her permission, considering the fact that the paparazzi who snapped the shot was about a kilometre away. Honestly, I don't know which is worse - the fact her tits are out, or the poor photograph quality that makes her chin look as chiseled as Stan Smiths from American Dad.

The magazine that first published the photos based them on Kate's nudity, as if that was the main shock factor of the story. I guess, for some puerile people who have never been to the beach or out of the countryside, that may be the case. But, for me, nudity isn't really the issue here. I am far less appalled by the idea of seeing as much of someone's breasts as you might see flash out any day of the week by a breast feeding mother in a cafe, (the whole, rosy lot of them), than I am by the idea and fact that couples, no matter how famous, has the right to their own privacy and intimacy.

Courtesy of BBC 

I agree that images of breasts may no longer be a taboo, but certain things are still sacred and, for me, a couples right to behave indiscreetly and affectionately in a remote location is one of them; even if they are set to be our future King and Queen.  The flailing editor of France's version of 'Clooooozuuuurrrree' got one solitary thing right in all her protestations of running the spread of Kate's boobs; and that was that there are nipples visible in public all around us. While that may be true, it's not much of a justification. Just because some women enjoy showing the world their breasts, doesn't mean that other women should have to, especially if they don't consent to it.

Frankly, her hollow justifications carry zero weight in my eyes.

Am I the only person on the god damn planet who things we have no right seeing Kate strip off to catch a nice all over even tan? It's either she gets her tits out, or gets a spray tan and becomes a 5ft something walking umpa lumpa (is that how you spell it??)  for at least the next week and I assure you, the press would have a field day with that. Whatever that girl, and other celebrities alike, does, she will constantly be criticised. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - the media know no limits. Except if you're in the UK at the moment and you've turned the photographs down. It's good to know our tabloid press have such strong morals in Britain. God bless them.

Now excuse me while I go and read The Sun - just checking if there are any more updates on Prince Harry's naked adventures in Las Vegas. 

The F word

Today, I am approaching  a subject that is bound to seriously damage the number of people who read my blog. Or rather, the number of friends that I have who are willing/forced to read my blog after my constant coercing.  I should be scared of potentially becoming 'that bitch on the internet', but, due to a healthy supply of fizzy drinks, chocolate bars, sweets and fat based products, I'm quite calm about the whole thing.

If you've been reading my blogs of late, then you'll know that two out of the five that have been posted are full of ranting about men's perception of women and, the pressures that women face in the modern day world. While I still maintain that fact, I just want to point out some home truths about modern feminism that will probably make Emmeline Pankhurst roll in her grave.

Let's get one thing straight before we go steam rolling into this sensitive issue; I am a feminist. I completely support women's rights; I spent God knows how many years in school learning about the Suffragettes movement, and many more continuing to learn about it in my free time. I spent my childhood being told by my grandparents to embrace my rights as a woman, that had been fought for nearing a century ago. I have the utmost respect for the movement and, it makes me proud that we still continue to work tirelessly for women's rights. But, I feel that the whole campaign is becoming somewhat.. close minded towards male feminists.

Here's my argument in a nutshell: men may make the odd joke about women staying in the kitchen and whatnot, but so do I. I refuse to have my rights to make jokes about my amazing abilities to make sandwiches  and doing golden medal worthy ironing away from me. The fact is, women are mean about men too. In fact, should you tune into ITV at half twelve on weekdays, (if, like me, you have nothing better to do), and that much will be proven. Loose Women is dedicated to talking about how stupid men are, and yet, they don't get taken off the air. The show represents a stereotype of modern feminism that, well, is crap really. There's a difference between women saying; "I am a woman, hear me shop, (sorry - can't help it) ROAR," and "I am a woman, listen to me giggling at my own jokes about how my partner is unable to perform the mundane domestic duties that I can."

How is that the liberation that the feminist movement has fought for? Can someone please point out to me how inviting bitter old women to gather around a table with cups of tea and bourbon biscuits to insult the male population is modern feminism? Frankly, I don't really want to be represented by this juvenile level rubbish.  

Whereas sexism against men isn't publicised as often as that against women, it does exist. Whether we ignore it or not, sexism against men is often a result of the same outdated gender rules that keep the female population in their place. Divorce courts often rule that the mother should have custody of their children, which we accept willingly. However, does no one want to point out that the British courts still seem to be operating under the attitude that it is a mother's job to have full custody of her children? And why do they often assume that father's cannot do the job that mother's can? My parents are divorced - and they are both wonderful people who have brought me up to be the fantastic and goddess like woman that I am. The fact that they shared custody of me wasn't a hindrance to my childhood. Fact is, men are just as capable as women.

Obnoxious male stereotypes stem from the same place as those that affect women: THE MEDIA. The idea that is drummed into women's heads by lad culture magazines, is that men are half brained, potential rapists who think of nothing but sex all the time and cannot have a conversation with a woman while looking them directly in the face. Plus, lad culture stresses that the only way men can enjoy themselves is by going out, getting absolutely car parked and having a good ol' fashioned manly fight. Maybe there are men like this out there, but the easy acceptance of the way that 'blokes' should be makes it near enough to impossible for them to be otherwise. Men drink alcohol until they throw up or piss in the streets and stare at tits 24/7 because they're 'real' men.

The list of things men cannot do is endless. They cannot enjoy dancing, care about their appearance too much or talk about their feelings. They aren't allowed to have feelings beyond being horny, angry or pissed. They can have relationships with other men, but they can't discuss emotions with them.  The fact is that sexism happens to men too. And sadly, men have no place in modern feminism to do anything about it. Male feminists do exist but, most of them feel like they can't have an opinion about feminism because they are men.

Like all my other blog posts, I'm getting too preachy. The point is feminism can be liberating for men, but its capability of being used as a tool for self development  is very influential. Gender aside, when we look at how society has effectively shaped your way of thinking, behavior, expectations of yourself and those around you and, the expectations of gender conformity, it can be such a release to break off from the conventionality that society pressures us with.

So, boys, if you need one reason to become a male feminist, here goes nothing: screw society's expectations of how you should be and screw lad cultures ideas of how you should perceive women. Fact is, we're more equal these days that we ever have been. Be whoever, do whatever and do it because you want to. Meanwhile, I'll put the kettle on and whip up a batch of cookies.

I need more money and less shit from the government

Like most of the British population between 18 and 25, I should currently be searching for a job. While I like the idea of ensuring that I have the luxuries that only hot water and electricity can supply for my second year of university, this whole finding a job process is bloody difficult. Seeing as I have never had a job, the likelihood of me finding one is.. zilch. So instead of enduring another few painful hours of rejection, I thought I'd write a blog about it instead.

One of the 137,000 searching for a job in the UK

It's rather depressing to be perfectly honest. I am now at the desperate stage where I enter competitions to get some cash. I can't apply to jobs anymore because I can't find my National Insurance number - and even if I did, it would be covered in too thick a layer of dust to decipher.

It's common knowledge that the United Kingdom is in a triple dip recession at the moment, and it's no secret that South Wales is one of the hardest hit places. Being what the English, Scottish, Irish and North Walians refer to as 'a valleys girl,' I know the setbacks of Margaret Thatcher only too well. While most see my living in the hills as a negative thing, I can list some positives. In the recent Olympics, we contributed to team GB winning gold, silver, bronze... and tin and copper and lead. There are many wonderful things about living in the valleys, each as joyous as the next, but, again, that's for another blog.

Ever since the reign of the delightful Mrs. Thatcher, the economic viability of the valleys has been on the decline faster than the outgoings of my bank account. The current government has made some effort to persuade businesses to migrate to South Wales. Those with some sort of I.Q are wise to stay away from our streets with all those unemployed hooligans. Instead, they venture to the big city of London and get ransacked in riots. They were a big deal last August apparently, though I missed it while I blissfully spent my EMA in Disneyland.  The point is, I MISS HAVING MONEY. But I don't go out into the rough and tumble streets of Merthyr Tydfil and rummage through the leftover merchandise that the English send our way, to make up for our lack of sustainable business.

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

For the unwitting humans who reside in the valleys these days, the recession means several things: 
One - Someone, somehow, finds a job that they can maintain that pays enough to allow comfortable living. In the valleys. 

Two - You get out as quickly as you can and move to London to loot a hardware store. 

Three - You realise the mistake your ancestors made, and move away to realise your potential, (which you won't due to the recession.)

Four - You make the same mistake as your parents. 

Or five - You stay exactly where you are, but you don't get as lucky as your mate, Stan the street sweeper, and you live a life on benefits, being dubbed as a sponge and as trash.

While the Tories bang on about the benefits system not being a net, I am one of these people who is a firm believer that it all depends on circumstances. I know lots of people who have genuine need of the benefit system. Heck, if I were not a university student at the moment, I would be on benefits. We can get angry about it, we can protest, but it will not change the mindset of those who readily use the benefit system as a survival tool. It's understandable though; most people are genuinely better off on benefits, than being paid minimum wage to clean up the sick in the McDonalds queue. And sadly, the majority of the few jobs on offer in the valleys fit that exact criteria.

Surely, then, you understand my frustration, when I am constantly applying to jobs I don't even want to do and keep getting rejected while my families household income is depleted by the percentage of the population who simply don't want to work.  Additionally, employers base their perception of your worth as an employee on previous work experience, which, most people don't have because of the lack of jobs. And the lack of job stems from the poor economy, which stems from people not working , stemming from lack of jobs. We're in a vicious cycle. How do these big bad bosses expect me to get my first job if I have no work experience? I wish it was as easy as Norman Tebbit made it sound. .Norman Tebbit 

Unfortunately, I don't have a bike and, I have a heart that is slowly calcifying  and insufficient to do any sort of exercise

'He's on work experience' 

You need to have work experience, amazing grades, your own transport, (which most of us cannot afford), and a degree before you can even be considered to work in a factory slicing beef in Britain. Public transport is an absolute nightmare - getting to Cardiff from Merthyr takes nearly an hour on the train, which will cost you near enough to £8 if you are foolish enough want to return. Naturally, this makes life harder for the average working person or commuter.

Additionally, shops are closing down here, there and everywhere because they just cannot support themselves anymore. Companies are making changes to their full time contracts left, right and centre. People who are in jobs are being made redundant, sometimes without warning, and are left in the lurch by companies who are trying to keep up with the collapsing economy. While the recent Olympics may have added a little extra money into the governments back pockets, I doubt the taxpayer will see as much of it as David Cameron's wife will.

To our government, here's a word to the wise: I may be at university now, but, hopefully I'm going to do well and finish there within the next two years. I'm not excited about going into the world like most people my age should be - I'm trying to stay in education as long as possible to be within a chance of even finding a job as a grocer. I know it isn't the easiest of jobs, running a country and all, but something needs to be done about the rate of unemployment in the UK. I don't have an answer, but if I find one, I'll get back to you. Maybe then I'll finally get a job. As the next Prime Minister. Messing up Great Britain, one piece at a time, in the way only I can. 

Just saying no... to plastic surgery

For you lucky few who have the privilege to know me personally, you'll all be able to agree that I am rather an opinionated person. (If you don't realise this by now, please make effort to get to know me better. Bring me some cookies. Buy me a sambuca and we'll be best friends.) Aside from that, I'm also a rather opinionated person with nothing to do for at least the next month other than read newspaper articles online. And today, I came across a rather interesting one.

Now, I realise that I have already ranted about the government pressuring us lovely British people that we need to generally be better at everything. But this article really bothered me. To all you 'manly men' out there reading this delightful blog,  I'm going to introduce you to a topic that circles women like a shopaholic let loose at a shoe sale. Something which you think you understand, but let's face it, as men, you don't understand much other than the offside rule and eating. So, here we are lads, the one thing you can't fathom about women - Breasts.

Yes boys, BREASTS. Not boobs. Not tits. Not nunga nungas, (though if you do have the chance to watch Angus, thongs and perfect snogging, I thoroughly recommend it.) Looking at breasts in lads magazines isn't going to broaden your knowledge of the subject, though it may distract you from zombie games for five seconds. Pretending to be fascinated by the quality of writing on page three of the Sun won't do it either - and yes we've all been there. Including me.

Different shapes and sizes don't make us different 

Boys, I know it's tempting but let's try not to objectify women, eh?  We have enough trouble as it is, what with all our 'sandwich making', 'ironing', 'cleaning' and shoe shopping to do. I don't think we need  a bunch of lads talking to our chests and not our faces on top of our problems. I'm not saying women are oppressed these days, but I'm not saying that we aren't either. But, that's a topic for another blog.

Now, as I've already said, I came across a rather interesting article today, courtesy of the BBC themselves. The link is just here >> BBCnews - Health. But, as we are the British population and we are slowly becoming too lethargic to even click a button, here's an overview.

So round 7,000 women in England along are being checked for have faulty breast implants. And around 47,000 women who live in the United Kingdom go under the knife privately, rather than with the NHS. I remember once reading that over 300,000 a women a year in the US alone undergo breast augmentation. That's a lot.

Apparently, there has been a major cause for concern regarding breast enhancement as it has recently been discovered that the cosmetic service industry may have been using substandard materials. The materials aren't toxic but, there are safety concerns. The French started the whole thing off, interfering in the way only the French can. Though, to give them credit, they were fully justified to do so in this situation. These PIP implants were statistically found to have double the risk of rupturing.

It isn't even the risk of having toxic tits that deters me from having implants. If anything, I'd have a breast reduction from a D cup to a C cup but, sadly, I am a poor student without a job and with enough common sense not to go through with it. Ladies, we all want to change something about ourselves, but selling off the family pet and taking out a loan with 1746% APR is a bit extreme. Let's all just calm down. Put the kettle on. Have an Irish coffee. And in the words of Uncle Bryn from Gavin and Stacey; "WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT YOURSELVES??"

You are BEAUTIFUL the way you are. You are born with everything you have and frankly, you should be grateful. Like I've said in a previous blog, and a billion times about the world's population, it's the person inside and not the package that counts.

Admittedly, we Britons enjoy pointing out our flaws to not only ourselves, but each other. The amount of times I've asked my boyfriend if my bum looks big in something is ridiculous. Plus, even when I get the answer I want, (ALWAYS a resounding NO, for future reference boys), I'm still not satisfied. We women never are. But that doesn't mean we should go under the knife unnecessarily  to embrace ourselves.

Plus, let's be honest here, nobody wants to end up looking like Katie Price. It isn't natural beauty and it isn't a true depiction of the typical British woman. Breast implants, lipo suction, bum enhancement and face lifts - all of them just make you look like a Barbie doll. I'd rather look like Ursula from the little mermaid and be happy than fear for my face if I get too near an open flame.

Valeria Lukyanova - The 21 year old Ukrainian seeking to be the real life Barbie doll 

Not to mention all the dangers that come with surgery itself. Women often have had to have additional surgery to fix their haphazard breasts, have complained of joint problems and suffered symptoms similar to 'Rheumatoid Arthritis ', (type it into Google and prepare to be put off surgery.) Some women have even had to take steroids to fix the millions of repercussions of cosmetic surgery, which, have negative effects in themselves.

Girls, I'm not saying the fires of hell will burn down on you should you even consider cosmetic surgery. And I'm not saying that some very obnoxious people may even encourage you to do it. I just want to make it clear that this is 2012. Our rights to be strong and independent women weren't handed on a silver platter. The sandwiches and crumpets might've been, but our rights to think for ourselves weren't. Try to embrace your bodies. Don't allow the media to pressure you into becoming something you weren't built to be.

Anyway, that's enough of that from me. If my negative ranting isn't enough to put you off enhancing yourself , feel free to watch Embarrassing Bodies on Channel 4. You will never eat at ten o clock in the evening again.

With my sincerest thanks to my boyfriend, who lies to me every day about my 'beach ball body'. If you enjoy my ranting, I'm sure you'll enjoy his a lot more! 

http://whatdidchrissaynow.blogspot.co.uk/

British media making us Britons feel insecure

Recently, I had the traumatic experience of my own mother ruthlessly informing me that I need to go on a diet before I become too large to fit into our new extension.  Of course, these weren't her exact words, as the extension would fit about ten sumo wrestlers inside it, but the sentiment was there.

Adding to that, I just told the wonderful woman herself that I had dedicated a blog to her wise words, to which her reply was, "Yes. So go to the park and get some exercise."

Charming.

Now, I know all too well that I have possibly pilled on some pounds. Since being at home from university, I have probably consumed my own body weight in KFC, McDonalds and snacking on crappy food. Twice over. I'm becoming the next endorser for Woman Vs. Food. Britain style.

Honestly, I have never been one of these outgoing people and I have never really been comfortable in my own skin. We, especially in Britain, are very good at finding our own 'imperfections' - and apparently, mine is my sky rocketing weight.

I'm not saying I'm huge, despite likening myself to The Venus of Willendorf in my previous blog. I'm a comfortable size 12 and whilst I find many things to dislike about myself, I am ultimately happy with that. I'm not one of those girls who wears a size 8 and posts pictures on Facebook with the description reading, "Look how fat I am!" or "I hate this picture!" If you feel that bad, don't post the photo. Stop fishing for compliments and raining on my 'hideously huge' size 12 parade.  If I'm fat, so be it. I like food too much to quit eating it.

According to the media, our 'reliable' government and the general public, people need to be a certain size or shape nowadays. Who do these people think they are to pass judgement and tell us how we should be?

Isn't Britain a multicultural country?  Our country is pretty much built on immigration, and we embrace that fact. We welcome those from other nations into Britain, and we accept cultural differences for what they are. Britain, (grudgingly maybe) accepts difference, be it race, gender, religion or culture.

All I'm saying is, that if we can embrace immigrants into our country, can we not accept the people who already reside in Britain?

Britney Spears showing the World her 'imperfections'

The 'ideal woman'

People, and women especially, have pressure thrown at them from every angle. The big bad media companies are increasingly seeming to take great pleasure in telling us how to look, what to eat, how to act and blah blah blah. The fact is, the media isn't as much the deterrent  as everyone believes.  Teen Mom didn't discourage teenage girls to frolic into the great outdoors and impregnate themselves. Not even the sequel did. So, no, BBC, ITV and every other program out there blissfully putting images of doctors measuring pounds of fat onto my TV screen while I'm happily adding up the calories in my lasagna, I AM NOT INTERESTED. I'm constantly being told that I need to be skinnier, where nicer clothes, style my hair a certain way and generally be more attractive. Have they ever heard the expression, 'it's what's on the inside that counts?' Maybe that should be promoted more often.

Alongside that, the government is installing 'competitive sport' into all schools in the UK. Oh David Cameron. What happened to good old, clean and friendly physical education classes? I hope the conservative government realise that making PE competitive will only encourage children to fight and bully other children who may lack prowess in sports. Well, the liberals may be able to shed some light on the whole lacking in prowess issue.

Basically, I'm saying all this 'media huff', and pressure is absolutely ridiculous. Just embrace what you are, despite how difficult that may be. Accept your curves, or lack of, and just be damn well happy with who you are. At least then I won't have to put up with having my calorie loaded meals interrupted by Supersize Vs. Superskinny.