Follows the brag attack of V DAY, This ol’ gem sprung to mind…
As the champers flowed, laughs got louder and day got warmer/ colder, recent christmas festivities were enjoyed by many generations of people surrounded by our loved ones.
To much of grandma’s delight, this meant that some of us were putting our phones down and actually engaging with the fam, at least to devour some turkey.
Luckily, the breaks between meals (formerly used for siestas) provided a window for a quick scroll through the thousands of selfie stick captures (mine included) many of which featured awkward uncles and dorky jumpers (so wild!).
Having spent less time in cyber space, my toilet entertainment also involved a flood of #heputaringonit & #taken announcements.
Apparently it was also the season for knee bending – celebrated of course with a perfectly filtered and framed close up of #THERING!!!!!!!!!
Now to be honest, my childhood dreams rarely featured a virgin-white dress and sexy stallion, the idea…
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-It’s a question I get asked on the reg, in different forms, across all kinda contexts.
Perception is a funny thing- from ‘white chocolate’ to Albanian, I’ve gotten it all, and it’s cool; I’m all about multiculturalism- especially when my friends adopt me as part of their ethnic crews.
However, no matter how much sangria I consume, curry I devour or Italian stallions I drool over, there’s a tiny fact that only a few of my pals have been able to identify.
Apart from the frequent “you sound like you’re from London” observation from strangers, the degree to which I’m a MASSIVE Brit/ POM at heart has gone unnoticed.
While my undying love for London town, including Harry & Wills; my besties that feel the need to reside there (as well as it’s ridiculously close proximity to Italia and olay- town) is no secret, there is something else that fuels my bond with the motherland…
And that is… British TV. (DON’T JUDGE!)
I started young, with late night viewings of the BILL and the Vicar of Dibley, and progressed to AB FAB (which could explain a lot about my adulthood).
The love matured however when I discovered TOWIE and Made in Chelsea, and it continues to flourish as I navigate my way through the early years of adulthood, stumbling and (hopefully) growing along side Louise & Spenny.
There is something comforting about watching people of a similar age making the same fuck- ups, being slapped in the face by the same lessons and experiencing just as much confusion and disillusion (and of course oodles of fun).
The bond between the viewers and the botoxed beauties is one that cannot be explained, it is felt across oceans and screens.
It is developed, not through the piss ups and overt vanity, but in the vulnerability and hurt that is felt and shown, especially in relationships (/ failed attempts at that love thang).
There is one particular gal that I want to fly over and cuddle. Up until the last ep of Made in Chelsea, poor Binky has been bloody unlucky in love. Not because she’s a dud, but because people can be A-holes.
After being repeatedly cheated on by a dickhead named Alex, Binks took her time to heal.
During this time, another (delicious) man took a liking to her, and pursued the brunette beauty for about six months (of viewing).
JP seemed SO promising- having never been in a relationship, but being a great mate to all, he was considered to be the ultimate good guy.
While he continually delivered in his attempt to woo Binks, the height of our hopes grew, as Binky very slowly softened her walls.
Like all modern tinder- ships seem to do- Binky and JP got to the stage where they’d out grown the situation-ship and an ultimatum had to be given.
Despite the fear and doubt Binky had about relationships and being rejected/ hurt by JP, she decided (with the extremely ironic guidance of Alex himself who believes she deserves a good guy– LOL) she threw it aside, downed some champers and asked the boi out herself.
…And do you know what he said???
SOZ, you’ve got too much baggage.
I was disgusted to say the least, as were the Chelsea sisterhood who put JP firmly in his place.
This is what us humans do!
We JUDGE people on the ways in which OTHERS have treated them, hurt them and the insecurities that have manifested.
We base our perceptions on the company people keep, the places they go and music they like.
For relationship virgins– we assume there’s something wrong, and the same judgement is made about damaged goods.
The JP & Binky ordeal left me wondering what exactly the perfect criteria for a 20- something bachelor/ bachelorette is…
It seems that love has become a small element of a large list that has been determined by failed experiences and Hollywood illusions. (I’m sure a few mummy/daddy complex’s are mixed in there too)..
-Are we really in tune with ‘that’ connection? or is our view shaded by superficial shit? Do we fall for a person because of who they actually are, or who we think they are or want them to be?
-How many soul mate opportunities are we passing up for easy or safe options?
-Why don’t we listen to our instincts more?
Over the years, Essex and Chelsea fans have watched girls (and occasionally guys) questions their partners loyalty– sometimes in response to rumours and sometimes solely because of ‘that’ gut feeling. Every single suspicion has been spot on.
I think, that if we paid more attention to our inner shit, so many wrong relationships may be avoided- creating space for the right ones.
[case in point– Binky knew something wasn’t right about JP, and yet she blanked her feelings in response to her pals pressure].
.. Do y’all seee how much soul searching can manifest from some illegally downloaded reality TV? It has gotta’ be British though, that’s a must 😉