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Sunday, 11 March 2012

"Marriage is a human right, not a heterosexual privilege"


There's a time for everyone if they only learn
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn.'

When Elton John penned ‘Your Song,’ there is no hint of gender difference. No notion that a ‘him’ must find a ‘her,’ no ‘she must fall in love with him,’ no ‘girl meets boy.’ Probably because him, like many others, supports the right for two people in love to get married, regardless of gender.

The debate has circulated society for years and people seem to be under the illusion that we have become liberal, supportive and even generous in our attitude towards same-sex relationships. However, need I mention that it wasn’t until 2004 that same-sex were given the right to civil partnerships and it was still another year before a civil partnership took place in the UK. The event provoked a backlash of religious protests, with protesters swarming outside the City Halls in order to voice their opposition; not something you would find on a heterosexual wedding day.

Today, two of the London Roman Catholic Archbishops declared in a letter that will be read in 2,500 Churches this weekend that same-sex marriage was a ‘profoundly radical step’ that would reduce the significance and effectiveness of marriage. To me, that’s like saying you would reduce the effectiveness of food if you let everyone eat it; marriage should be a basic right.

Some people argue that same-sex marriages shouldn’t happen because of the increase of sexual promiscuity between same-sex couples. Others argue that same-sex relationships don’t last long enough, that the people involved aren’t committed. It is an interesting – near impossible - feat to try and measure the level of someone else’s commitment. Furthermore, if you proportionally compare the divorce rate for gay marriage with heterosexual marriage it’s considerably lower. In rational terms, the argument that same-sex couples are merely physical just isn’t true; it is based on stereotypes and presumptions.

As have many debates, it comes down to the issue of redefining. In our society, we like things to stay the same – for secure notions to remain intact and not be challenged and challenge often brings about change. However, imagine a world today where women were just domestic, where Africans were just slaves. Whilst it is going to be a long road, it’s a journey we should all support.



Wednesday, 4 January 2012

Price of Vanity


Apple, pear, banana, strawberry.. I'm not naming fruit but types of female body shape. Whilst they are meant to distinguish between different figures, there is a similarity that lies with all three; every descriptor concentrates on how big (or non-existent) the womans boobs and bum are.

I’m not saying that we are under any illusion that this doesn’t happen; any girl on a night out will (well, should) attempt to adhere to the ‘legs or chest’ rule, the slogan ‘my dress is not a yes’ was created by Slutwalk in an attempt to dispel the relationship between clothes and promiscuity and if you open any legitimate men's magazine there will be boobs featured somewhere. It has come to be accepted. Almost.

However, the problem lies when technology comes into play. Whilst the first boob job (believe it or not) was in the late 1800’s, implants did not play a large or important role in society until the second half of the twentieth century. Now, with the right amount of money, you can pretty much guarantee someone will sculpt your ‘perfect’ boobs.

This is all fair enough. If, for any reason, you feel the need to add an extra couple of pounds to your chest, there should be no problem. Whilst some feel that adulterating the body is wrong, if the technology is there to make someone feel more comfortable, in my opinion it should be used.

However, with the bankruptcy of Poly Implant Prothese (PIP), a French company that made implants, a new debate has been aroused. Should the NHS be made to take out dangerous or ruptured implants that were put in by private companies? I don’t think so. If you have a hip replacement done privately then side-effects and complications will be amended by the private provider: at a cost. Furthermore, whilst there is speculation that the rupture rate is alarmingly high - up to 7% in the UK - we must consider that the failure rate for metal joint replacements can be as high as 17%.

Really, we must prioritise. Whilst boob jobs satisfy vanity, other major operations satisfy the ability to carry out daily tasks. If given the choice, I know what I would rather have my money spent on. Give me an A cup anyday.






Wednesday, 16 November 2011

At the Push of a Button

Not everyone finds it easy to get a date: firstly you have to find someone you like. For me, specific type does not even cut it: certain height, certain hair colour, certain sense of self. That or a professional rugby player, either will work.

But that’s not half of it. They have to want you and the two don’t often come hand in hand.

So wouldn’t it be great if there was an app you could use to find people, see if they’re all that great and decide if you want them before meeting them. There is. Its called Grindr and its used by guys to find hot dates and anything else that might take their fancy. One of my friends has met many a guy on it, spent many an hour getting to know people and could go out any night he wanted. I have to wait for days where I have found the perfect dress and stayed of the martini.

There is a heterosexual version: it’s called Blendr. However, it doesn’t play by the same rules.
Everyone I know who has used it has done so for friendship and whilst I think you can’t have enough friends, an app purely for dating can’t be a bad thing.

But would we really use it? Critics claim it works for guys because being only 50 metres away from someone that wants you is a turn on. It is not the same for women - one of my friends repeatedly declares her love for someone who lives 300 miles away. What’s more, but one picture and a small line claiming what position is your favourite is not enough for me to go home with someone (no matter how amazing the position is). I would take meeting someone in the flesh any day.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Disengagement.

In the last two months, four of my close friends and family have got engaged. I'm not going to lie, when the first one of these four told me I was over the moon - a wedding primarily means a new dress and a chance to drink champagne in a nice venue.

However, by the fourth I felt a little different. How important is an engagement, really? It has been offered to us by many magazines that you must try to find ‘the one.’ Preferably, rich, hot, sentimental, clever and charming – probably even in that order. But paradoxically we are also told that marriage isn’t important anymore. Of course, this is all subject to opinion but as I am thrown into the world of wedding plans and dress disasters, I’m left to wonder whether ever I will prefer a wedding to living in a student flat eating cereal out of a mug because I possess no ability to wash up.

In this bubble, I wonder what changes engagement brings to a couple. For most, sex is no longer a thing to appreciate after marriage – whilst society has not yet come to terms with openly talking about sex, it is accepted by most that behind closed doors all manner of things happen. Why else would Ann Summers and FHM exist?

However, it is not just sex. I recently had a conversation with my flatmate which resulted in her asserting that she is planning two marriages; after all, the first one will probably end in divorce. Whilst this is cynical, it is most probably true which leads me to believe that nights out in the student union dressed in a  toga are most probably more fun.

I’m not denying that I will probably hit a crisis at some point due to all my friends being happily settled whilst I most definitely won’t be. But for now,  the only dress shopping I’ll be doing is for my friends twenty-first.

Thursday, 29 September 2011

Amore

Three words, eight letters.

Eight letters which mould a hell of a lot of films, books and lives: we all know the famous moment where Rose tells Jack in the freezing water. Some of us recollect when Chuck Bass is unable to tell Blair (mainly because we wish it was us). A few of us have been subject, or at least we claim, to its powers.

The nearest my friends and I have come to it is the discussion of when you should feel it. It is an anticipation: a constant question. One of my close friends had her boyfriend say the magic words to her after three days - she was delighted, where as horrified suited my expression much better. Firstly, it was on the phone and nothing life changing should ever be determined over phone call. Secondly, it’s taken me well over three days to decide whether or not I like my new Topshop dress, let alone boyfriend - I’m all for carpe diem but there are limits.

Another story comes from the ability to read a text oh so wrong. After receiving ‘ILYF’ on the end of one message, my beautiful friend thought it was time to say it back. Only problem was, he had meant ‘I like your face.’ Awkward doesn’t describe the proceeding days.

But we are subject to constant pressure about when, where and who we should deem worthy. Open any magazine and there will be at least one feature on ‘the ideal man.’ What’s more but we are told how to gain him, how we should look when we gain him and how long to wait (months, days and seconds) until we can say those fatal words.

However, I’m more than happy to maintain the frivolity often linked with the words. Yes, in films and books it is sad when a couple who are ‘destined’ to be together can no longer be. But for now, my flatmate will continue to love professional rugby players and I shall love Topshop forever.

Tuesday, 20 September 2011

Gone Fishing

Fresher's week: seven unadulterated, barely memorable (but only for alcoholic reasons) nights out with people you don't really know.

Look at any form of social media in the weeks proceeding the biggest freshers weeks and you'll find condescending words. 'An excuse to drink' is a popular phrase but against the assumption that all freshers have unsafe sex with as many people as physically possible, one too many vodka and cokes is only a small issue.

But this year, we are hit with a new phenomenon. 'Fishing,' or the act of older students attending freshers week to pull those intoxicated or naive. It's true to the point that I know many second years and above who enjoy the, let's face it, much better entertainment that will ever be put on again throughout the duration of their time at university; when else would S Club 7 (alright, 3, but still) grace the sticky floored student union. But to attend in order to pull? Possible. But even that's not horrendous.

We certainly can't pretend that above years wait for the 'lightweights' to fall before reeling them in and taking them home. Firstly, vomiting is not an attractive look (I learnt that after a particularly unfortunate incident but luckily lack of memory equals a slightly smaller dent in my pride) and no one wants to take someone home who can't stand up.

Secondly, sex with someone a different age is not unusual. For 14 years you are subject to 'what year are you' being one of the determining factors in the opening conversation with any person you might be intimate with. Later on, age is less of an issue.

I can't deny first years go home with second, third, forth years. But in comparison to some of the things happening in the world, I'd take sex with a guy three years older than me any day.



Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Sexting

noun: [ mass noun] informal the sending of sexually explicit photographs or messages via mobile phone

Forty years ago (probably ten), the new craze would have never happened. Perhaps it was due to the fact that mobile phones weren’t glued to everyones side but it’s more likely that the chastity belt has been removed from society. Or so we like to think.

Now, sexting is deemed a legitimate word - well it’s been added to the dictionary at least. I don’t know how, or why, we didn’t think of it sooner. With power and sex becoming closer than ever, we can’t deny it’s good to know the other person is thinking of you when they shouldn’t be.

However, we must be aware all dirty texts are cheesy. If someone actually ever said one out loud to me, I would die of embarrassment but read on a screen? Absolutely fine. In fact, better than that: a force to be reckoned with. Of course, a few small white lies are needed - it is very rare for someone in an office to be wearing no underwear. But with reality bent and the other person miles away, suddenly you can feel the sexiest woman alive.

Of course, we all know it can go wrong. My personal favourite is the proof that you should never run simultaneous conversations at the same time as sexting someone.



wrongnumbertexts.com

 But still. It’s a pretty good way to occupy time: just be careful if your boyfriends name is 'Dave.'