Live like common people // On class

I'm working class through-and-through. Proper, full-on, broken home, council estate childhood. And proud. Unfortunately, this seems to be a bit of a rarity in the blogging world. At least when it comes to the top bloggers: All nice, well-spoken, middle class girls*. This seems to have extended to social media, too. Time and time again, I see derogatory comments about people on benefits, council estates and those who get grants under income-assessed student loans (don't get me started on the latter!)

*Edit: It's been brought to my attention that this sounds like a dig at other bloggers. This isn't what I intended at all. What I meant was that, in blogging circles, I've often felt alone in my background, especially as the top bloggers (by which I mean the bloggers who are household names) appear to be from middle-class backgrounds. 

It's insane how class is still used as a weapon. As though, by being working class, you're somehow a lesser person. The lower classes, and all that. As an example, here's some of the experiences I've had in the past:

3 reasons why you should vote (and who to vote for)

WHY SHOULD I VOTE AND WHO SHOULD I VOTE FOR?

7th May is going to be a big day in the UK- It's time for our general election! I for one cannot wait. General elections always get me so excited and, yes, I'm one of those flags out to support my party people (probably not this year though, but more on that another day!). In order to vote in the UK, you have to be over 18 but you also need to register to vote. The deadline is 20th April and you can easily do it online but, if you're not registered, you will not be able to vote so it's really important you do it. 

Now, before we get started, let me ask you a couple of questions so you know whether this post is for you:

Are you under 18? Yes- go to A. No- go to B.

A- Ok, this doesn't affect you right now. Feel free to stick around though.

B- Have you registered to vote? Yes- go to C. No- go to D.

C- Awesome! You're my kind of person!

D- What? Why not? You need to vote. Like, for real! Here's why! 

BECAUSE YOU CAN

This is a huge deal to me and one of the main reasons why I get frustrated at people who do not use their vote. I'm not going to talk about the suffragettes because we all know about them, they only affected women and it was ages ok so isn't relevant today, right? Well, wrong actually but I'm still going to use a different demonstration today. There are still people today who are not allowed the vote. Women in Saudi Arabia cannot vote at all. Still. Up until 1994, black people were not allowed to vote in South Africa. This week, people in Nigeria camped overnight to vote since they lived so far from a polling station. Here in the UK, anybody and everybody over 18 can vote and there are polling stations open all day long every couple of miles. Yet our turn out in 2010 was only 65%. It makes a mockery of all those people who still, to this day, struggle to make their voices heard. Don't want to vote? Fine. Leave your ballot blank. But at least turn up, if only because you have the right to.


BECAUSE YOUR VOTE MATTERS

I know you hear this all the time but it's true- Every single part of your life is affected by politics and you can really make a difference. People always get the old "If you don't vote, don't complain" spiel, I know, but take my best friend Marie. (Sorry, Marie, but you're a great example!) "I don't care!", she says, "I know that means I can't moan so I won't moan about anything". Then she goes to the doctor and, guess what, moans about her treatment. You know what has a huge impact on the NHS? Politics. 

If you didn't like your job, or your relationship, hell, even your lunch, you'd change it right? Why is changing your country so different?

BECAUSE IT'S EASY

The other excuse that pops up over and over again is that people don't have time to vote. Yes, you do. Unless you live in the sticks, there's probably a polling centre in walking distance. Don't even think about telling me you can't make it on the day, because all polling stations are open 7am- 10pm and there's rarely a queue since, you know, 35% of people think it's none of their concern. Really, really can't make it? Never mind, you can vote by post instead! See, no excuse! 

STILL NOT CONVINCED?

Here, let me make it easy for you- What do you think of UKIP? Everyone has an opinion on UKIP! Do you think they have the right idea and should make decisions or does your heart turn cold at the thought of them getting power? Either way, go and vote! If you're against them, your vote will help stop them coming into power. If you support them... actually, don't vote. I'm kidding! If you support them, use your vote (but seriously don't vote UKIP)

OK, HOW DO I REGISTER?

Just go to the Gov.uk page and register to vote here. Easy! 

WHO SHOULD I VOTE FOR?

Not UKIP This site, Vote for Policies, jumbles up all the policies and leaves them anonymous so you don't know which party they belong to. You can choose the issues that are most important to you, choose the policy you most agree with and, at the end, it tells you the percentage you got for each party. If you're interested, I got 100% Green but, as much as I want to, I won't be voting for them. I'll tell you all about that soon enough though! Thanks Chelsea for introducing me to the site!

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You may have figured out that this is really important to me. Just seriously go and register right now! Let me know when you have so I can send you good karma!*

*Good karma may or may not work. No guarantees, alright?

On body positivity and maintenance

Body positivity is a funny old thing, isn't it? As much as I think of myself as a champion for body confidence, the truth is I, like everyone, have some pretty substantial body hangups. It's odd because I've reached a point where I feel afraid to mention my insecurities. If I do, is somebody going to think I'm faking the whole body positivity thing? Or am I going to be criticised again for mentioning my flaws? It feels very black and white: If you promote body confidence, you have to be positive in all areas of your own body. But, of course, real life isn't like that.

When I was a young, between the ages of 10 and 15, I was horrendously insecure but there was something that prevented me from doing anything about it. I hated my frizzy hair, my discoloured teeth, my body hair and my glasses and yet I felt changing my appearance was something to do "when I'm older". I was always thinking about how I would change my look when I was old enough, without realising that I could have changed all of those things at any point.

Once I hit 16, and fell heavily into my emo days, style was everything. I was desperate for straight, black, sideparted hair. My glasses and braces let me down and prevented me being the emo babe I'd envisioned. Yet there was nothing stopping me from using hair straighteners and getting contacts. I was resigned to these insecurities, thinking there was no way out of them.

Of course, the whole emo thing faded and once I started this blog I was influenced by all those amazing, positive girls who own their appearance. They're beautiful and confident in their own skin, and that's what I wanted too. I couldn't change my appearance. That would be cheating, right?

It wasn't one particular epiphanous moment that changed my thinking but more a slow revelation. It started with my contact lenses. I first got them in 2009 but gave up after a couple of months before returning to them in 2012. I was so happy and confident with them and loved the benefits of swimming, going on rollercoasters and doing my make up with the ability to see. Then I started straightening my hair and discovered that my mood is hugely amplified with freshly straightened locks (more so when I eventually get round to a trim!). At the end of 2014, I got my first acrylic nails and I couldn't believe how much of a difference they made to my confidence. Finally, a few weeks ago, I got my eyebrows waxed and I am obsessed with them!

Now I have a routine that includes weekly hair straightening and getting my brows and nail done once a month. Next I'm looking into teeth whitening, laser hair removal and keratin treatments. 
I feel like I'm finally, at the age 26, coming out of my chrysalis. I've realised that it's ok to have beauty treatments and promote body positivity. If you don't like something, you can change it. Body confidence doesn't have to mean living with something that makes you miserable.  

Smear for Smear // Do charity selfies help?

This week, I've started to see #smearforsmear pop up on Twitter and Instagram a lot. The idea is that you smear your lipstick, post a selfie and hey presto! Suddenly women everywhere realise they need to book a smear test. Only it doesn't quite work like that, does it? 

To me, this seems symptomatic of a recent trend for narcissistic self-promotion disguised as charity work, usually under the guise of "raising awareness". Just like the no make up selfie, supposedly to help raise awareness of cancer (because apparently we're not aware of it enough) and the Ice Bucket Challenge before it, again intended to make people aware of ALS, our social media pages are being flooded with people posting photos of themselves in the name of a good cause. Admittedly, there are benefits to this as both trends did increase donations to their respective causes but research also suggests only 10% of people taking part in these campaigns actually donate. Which raises the question- Why would people join in if they don't intend to contribute?

This becomes even more tricky when the issue doesn't lend itself to charitable causes and instead tries to push people into action like that blooming panic button campaign. Smear for smear is a great example of this. As a young woman over the age of 25, seeing some Hollyoaks actress with smudged lipstick is hardly an incentive to get tested. Do you know what is an incentive? Talking about it! 

It's as simple as that. Share your experiences. Discuss the procedure and reassure women that it's not as scary as you'd expect. From what I've seen, celebrities as well known as Rita Ora and Georgia May Jagger are posting their selfies but are not actually talking about their experiences. What does that achieve exactly?

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So, with that in mind, here is what to expect from a smear test, based on my experience:

I got the letter in 2013, just after my 25th birthday but I totally forgot to sort it out until I started visiting the doctor regularly a few months later and he noticed I hadn't been screened. All I had to do was go to the receptionist, ask to book in for a cervical screening and she fixed a date. So far, so easy.

On the day I was admittedly a little nervous. However, the nurse I had was absolutely lovely and put me totally at ease. I had to strip my bottom half (I'd recommend wearing a dress as you can just hoik the skirt up and may feel a bit less naked) and lie on my back with my knees up, then let them fall to either side. 

I'll admit this bit was terrifying, but only because she had a lamp pointed down there and it was casting a huge menacing shadow on to the wall beside me, complete with a speculum longer than my arm span (it was just the effect of the shadow, don't worry!) She warned me that the speculum may be a bit cold, although it wasn't as it turns out, popped it in and then put the little brush in.

This is the bit that sounds horrible but I can promise you, it's not. It's about the size of a cotton bud so absolutely tiny and, by the time you're aware of the sensation, it's out again. That's it! She pulled the curtains closed so I could get dressed in privacy and then I was free to leave.

The whole process took maybe three minutes. In fact, my mum had dropped me off and was just sending a text before planning to meet me in the waiting room but I got back to the car before she'd had a chance to get out. A couple of weeks later, I called up and was told that everything was normal and that was it. I don't need to go back now until 2016, three years after my first screening.

I totally understand why girls are scared by the process and why they put it off for so long but you have my word that it is no big deal at all. I was surprised by just how quick and easy it was, and was so glad that I hadn't procrastinated and built it up as a big scary thing. If you're over 25 and you haven't booked your test yet, do it now! If it is terrifying and painful, I give you permission to tell me off (because I swear it won't be!)

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Now, isn't that a lot more reassuring than a photo of smudged lipstick? Of course I'm not saying don't get involved with the Smear for Smear campaign but, if you do, share your experience. It's only by talking about it that we can really dispel the myths and encourage women to get tested.

Other posts

If you've written your own post on your smear test experience, please do send me a link. I'd love to create a whole list of honest recounts from bloggers so we can have a huge range of different experiences. 

Abby: What it's like and why it's so important

Victoria: My smear and colposcopy experience

Lizzie: Cervical screening- The honest truth

Katie: Cervical cancer awareness week
Filipa: Smear for Smear campaign

On glamourising anxiety

As I write this, it's 3:20 on a Friday afternoon. I should be standing at the school gates seeing off the children but, instead, I'm sitting cross-legged on my sofa in My Little Pony pyjamas. The reason for this is my anxiety. Well, more specifically, my anxiety medication. It's done some weird things to me over the past 24 hours, leaving me fuzzy-headed, nauseous, unable to talk (even to Rich) and too scared to leave my bed until 2pm today. And this got me thinking. 

There is nothing glamorous or romantic about my situation right now. To be totally blunt with you, I have a blood-stained tissue on the sofa next to me as a result of my awful dermatillomania, and cold pizza sits in a box on the kitchen counter. I'm wearing no make up, my hair is unbrushed and my pyjamas are already starting to smell a bit funky. Does that sound cool to you?

Although I really, really appreciate the media, and social, attention that anxiety is receiving lately, it's starting to go a little overboard. I once believed that there was no such thing as too much exposure. Yes, there was a bandwagon of sorts but at least we were talking about it, right? Unfortunately, I now feel like it's gone too far and, judging by my conversations on Twitter this afternoon, I'm not the only one.

Please don't get me wrong here. Of course there are many, many people with anxiety. There are clear indications that it is more prominent in creative minds, which could explain why so many bloggers seem to have it. I understand that the internet is a safe place where people can express themselves in a way they wouldn't be able to in real life, which contributes to the prevalence of anxiety online. I have no problem with the amount of anxiety in social media. My problem is with the attitude.

Let's get this out of the way first- Anxiety (or any other mental health illness, for that matter) is not something to be ashamed of. In no way am I suggesting you hide it, play it down or otherwise minimise the effects of the condition on peoples' lives. But neither is it a badge of honour. I see people almost boasting about it on Twitter and this has serious implications.

Speaking from my own experience, and that of others on Twitter, rather than feel encouraged by this sudden wave of anxiety, sufferers retreat even further for fear of being tarnished with the "bandwagon" brush. They worry that they won't be taken seriously and that it belittles their condition. And who can blame them? When yet another blogger pops up to announce their problems with anxiety, I think a lot of people feel a certain amount of disbelief, even subconsciously. I know I do and that makes me feel like a terrible person. I have anxiety myself and I still have that initial doubt when someone else admits they have it. This is the climate that is being facilitated by the glamourisation of anxiety.

I have suffered from anxiety as far back as I can remember. When I joined school aged 4, I suffered from mutism so it goes back at least 22 years. My dermatillomania started 15 years ago, and when you're constantly ripping your skin off to the point of gushing blood, being physically unable to stop until it "feels right", I think it's safe to say you definitely do have the condition. Yet I've only recently started feeling comfortable discussing it. Why? Because over the past few months, I've received a formal diagnosis for both, as well as long-term medication and counselling. It's awful, and I hate it, but now I feel like I can prove my mental health problems. I can sit on my high horse, safe in the knowledge of my prescription, and look down on those who claim to have the conditions. 

This is not how I want to feel and it is not the way mental health problems should be approached. Awareness and publicity is fantastic. The more the better, I say. But why are we glamourising it? Why are we making it cool? The latest thing is to wear a red button as a symbol of your anxiety. That literally turns it into a fashion statement. Some anorexia sufferers wear red bracelets as a sign of solidarity. Can anybody imagine some cool teen idol promoting that, supported by an eating disorder charity? And yet it's exactly the same thing. Why is it not ok for eating disorders but celebrated for anxiety?

Please, if you have problems, get help. Talk to someone, speak to your doctor, look into counselling. By all means share your experiences and help others. But if you can objectively consider your words and think that perhaps you're exaggerating, perhaps you're just trying to fit in, perhaps you want people to think you're brave, find other ways to do that. It's not a fashion statement. It's not cool. It's not glamorous. It's a life-debilitating condition that affects more people than just the sufferer. 

Why the John Lewis Christmas advert made me cry

Monty the Penguin flew onto my laptop screen about 20 minutes ago and Twitter is alight with photos of him. However, I'm choosing to publish this about 2 weeks after the premiere of the advert as I don't want to spoil it for anyone. By now, everybody in the English-speaking world (and then some) must have seen it so let's talk about Why the John Lewis Christmas advert made me cry.

Let me start by saying I have a long history with John Lewis adverts, beginning with 2011's The Long Wait. That video touched me so much that I still watch it on YouTube and it still makes me cry every single time. I even downloaded that version of the song for my Christmas playlist. 2012's The Journey also made me cry, but only the first couple of times. It was a sweet advert but had nothing on its predecessor. Then came The Bear and the Hare in 2013, which I could not stand. It felt contrived and formulaic: I could imagine business people in a meeting room with a Powerpoint titled "How can we make them cry? Tears= Sales". Needless to say, I wasn't expecting great things this year.

And then came Monty the Penguin. Since I have the above mentioned history with John Lewis ads, I thought it would be funny to record my reaction Gogglebox-style for my weekly vlog. I was certainly not anticipating reacting the way I did.

The advert opens with a little boy and his pet penguin, Monty. Monty goes everywhere with him and helps the boy out. Cute! It kind of reminded me of Fluffy, who is my pet, only not actually real. Fluffy is a cuddly toy but he's real to me. This opening to the advert was sweet because, although I've never had a real pet (unless you count Nibbles the hamster who I never saw and then died on Christmas Eve when I was 12), I could kind of relate to it in terms of Fluffy. Then it felt like the advert sidetracked a little. Monty was looking for love and there was no longer that cute boy-and-pet dynamic going on. Of course, the boy, being a fantastic pet-owner, bought a lady penguin for Monty, at which point it is revealed that Monty and his girlfriend are not real penguins at all: They're stuffed toys. Cue heaving sobs.

Ok, so the particularly astute will pretty much have worked out why this affected me so much but I want to go into greater detail about Fluffy and why he's so important to me.

I received Fluffy as a Christmas present from my Auntie Sylvia when I was 8 (Oh look, a Christmas present. Notice the parallels). As a child, I had a pretty rough time. Don't worry, I won't be going all X Factor on you, but I was an anxious, socially awkward child who found it difficult to communicate with other children. This continued into my teens and beyond. Throughout my school years, I rarely went out with other children and would instead spend my free time holed up in my room. I found it impossible to share my problems and gained a reputation for being perpetually bright and cheerful when, actually, that couldn't have been farther from the truth. With nobody to turn to, I spoke to Fluffy. He listened to my problems without judgement and gave me advice. Of course, being a stuffed toy, the advice wasn't really from him, but from a part of my subconscious that I couldn't access alone. It needed the distance of coming from "someone else" for me to pick up on it. Fluffy was the personification of my limbic system- providing me with measured emotions, behaviour and motivation. I needed an outlet for these as I didn't trust them from myself.

When my life turned upside down at 16, I retreated further into my solitude. Fluffy soaked up my tears, he was an indestructible stress ball I could squeeze, he was always at my side. By this point, I was more than old enough to have lost the belief that may, just maybe, he does come alive when I'm asleep, but I could appreciate that he was symbolic of a constant in my life. Everything was changing but Fluffy was there. He was the sounding board for my troubles. There was so much inside me that I couldn't tell anybody, so many destructive emotions bottling up inside, but letting them out with Fluffy as my counsellor minimised their impact.

In 2008, I met Rich and he made a surprise visit to my student accommodation in Winchester. I hurriedly stuffed Fluffy down the side of the bed, ashamed and embarrassed to be 19 years old and still sleeping next to a teddy. Rich found him, chuckled and said "Who have we got here then?". Like the perpetually patient, understanding man he is, he completely took Fluffy on board and never once judged me.

Mental health problems have reached out to both of us in our 6 years together and sometimes it was difficult to communicate with each other as a result of these. I didn't want to tell Rich I was angry with him, for example, so Fluffy would be. Or perhaps Rich was worried about me but didn't want to concern me, so he would say Fluffy is worried. Much like when I was a child, Fluffy became an invaluable tool to share those difficult feelings. Even today, sometimes Fluffy will suddenly become sulky with Rich because I haven't got my own way! (I'm a sulker) 

Fluffy became our relationship mascot. Much like the boy in the advert, we'd buy him little token gifts. Sometimes Fluffy would buy a present for one or the other of us. Fluffy will occasionally leave notes out, since it's much nicer to come home to a note saying "Hello! Can you please clean the bath because my little paws won't reach? From Fluffy" than a passive-aggressive Post It Note! When we got married he, and his later-adopted little brother George, were ringbearers. Over the years- he will be 18 this Christmas- he has aged. His paws and ears are threadbare, he's turned grey and the insanely fluffy fur that gave him his name is now flat and matted. Just like Monty at the end of the advert, Fluffy is pretty bedraggled. But then my dad always said "If teddies get dirty, it shows they've been having fun".

For me, Fluffy is more than just a teddy. He was a beacon of hope in my childhood, a counsellor and supporter. As I moved into my difficult teen years, he provided a sense of security as a constant in my life and now, as a married 26 year old, he reminds me of what I went through to get here and reminds me that, together, we can take on anything. And that is why the John Lewis advert made me cry.

If you're interested in the psychology of adults with teddy bears, I really recommend reading up about Grayson Perry and his rather famous teddy, Alan Measles. When he began speaking publicly about his relationship with Alan Measles, I suddenly felt a little less weird! Here are two particulary clear examples, from The Radio Times and York Mix.

On Jacqueline Wilson

I'm a primary school teacher and I hate Jacqueline Wilson. There. I said it. Hate is a strong word, I know, but it applies here. Let me be clear first of all: I'm sure Jacqueline Wilson herself is a very nice lady. It's not she as a person that I hate, it's she as an author. I mentioned this briefly in my Classism and Grammar post, and it was suggested that I write a post on my feelings towards her. So here we go! 

Here's the deal: I'm 8 years old and my mum and dad have just divorced. I only know one other person with divorced parents so it's quite a new experience for me. My parents have shared custody so my little brother and I spend alternate weeks at each parents' flat. Every Wednesday, one parent takes us to school, and the other picks us up. This is normal to us and we love it. Our mum and dad have very different personalities so it's great to split the time equally between them. 

Then I come across a book called The Suitcase Kid. As a voracious reader, I would devour any writing that appeared in front of me. So put yourself in my situation, an intelligent 8 year old girl whose parents have just divorced, as I read the blurb:

Suddenly, my life didn't seem so normal. I had a book in front of me telling me that I was supposed to be upset. Just look at the illustration on the cover. Dis this mean my parents didn't know what to do with me? Did this mean I didn't have a home? 

Far from feeling as if I had a book that understood my feelings and told me everything was OK, I had somebody whispering in my ear, telling me that my life was not normal and I should be sad about it. 

As I got older, I realised that this follows the same vein in all of Wilson's books. The Story of Tracy Beaker tells the story of a girl unhappy with her life in foster care. Double Act focuses on the pain of a mother being "replaced" after her death. The Bed and Breakfast Star deals with homelessness. Wilson has made her career writing books about children in vulnerable and difficult situations. Books that are then dished out to children in the same situation under some patronising concept that it might help them understand their feelings. Is it just me, or does that feel a little exploitative to you? I'm sure it's all very interesting for families in secure, stable homes to read and pity the characters in that situation, thinking themselves lucky not to be there themselves. But when you are the one in that situation, it's condescending. 

I refuse to read Jacqueline Wilson in my classroom. I won't have her books in my book corner. It might seem an overreaction, and yes, I'll admit that I have a personal vendetta here, but if one of her books made me feel like my life was wrong, and something to be sensationalised, why would it not happen to someone else?

In fact, writing this, I remembered the Girls in Love series when I was a little older. At 11 years old, I identified with Ellie, because she knew exactly how many calories were in a Mars Bar and hated her "fat pink hams" of thighs. Come on, now. That's not right, surely? Validation that because I was a short, curly-haired, bespectacled, creative type, I should be insecure and want to change myself to be "cool". No, I'm not having that. It's not on.

See, this is the problem I have with Wilson's books: They present children with characters they can identify with, in situations that they understand. And then they tell them everything that is wrong with their situation and why they should be unhappy with their lives.

I want to see Girls in Love: College Edition when Ellie realises that she's looking damn fine in that miniskirt and aces university at the same time. Or The Fantastic Travels of the Suitcase Kid, in which Andy is glad her parents are both happy in their new homes, makes a fantastic group of friends in each location, spends her spare time exploring the area and ends up begging her parents to let the living arrangement continue until she moves out aged 18. 

Perhaps I'm oversensitive (OK, I'm almost definitely oversensitive) but I cannot feel comfortable with any book that allowed a young girl to doubt the social acceptability her life. I'm sure I can't have been the only one.

On meritocracy and women in the boardroom

Lately, I've been hearing a lot about the number of women who hold senior positions in corporate organisations. Company magazine is celebrating #GirlBoss, The Guardian is highlighting the rise of female executives and the Government is addressing the issue with the Women on Boards document. Fantastic! Of course there is a disproportionate amount of men than women in the boardroom and this needs to be addressed. But there's one little detail I have a problem with:

Quotas.

The Women on Boards document states that in 2010, women made up 12.5% of the members of the top 100 corporate boards. By 2015, "FTSE 100 boards should aim for 25% female representation". 

Source

Here's the problem with positive discrimination: Companies are pressured into meeting their targets and, therefore, are more likely to employ a female candidate. This might sound amazing, but let's think about it for a moment. In fact, let's take a look at a little scenario here.

Candidate A is applying for a promotion to an executive role. This person has several relevant qualifications and many years of experience. In their time at the company, they have shown a hard working attitude, they've achieved great results for the company and their attendance is 100%. 

Candidate B is well-qualified, but not at quite the same level. They also haven't got the same amount of experience. Although they work hard, they have made a couple of mistakes that have lost the company money, and they've been late several times in the past 2 years. 

You're the person in charge of promoting the suitable candidate. Who are you going to choose? Candidate A, right? Well here's the catch: A is a man and B is a woman... and you haven't reached your 25% quota. 

It might seem like an over simplification, but this is what happens when pressure is applied. The result is women being employed over men, for the simple reason that they are a woman. I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like equality to me.

This reminds me of the recent BBC policy: That every comedy panel show must have at least one woman. There are proportionately more men in comedy than women. Again, this is something we need to address but the answer is not sticking in a token woman on every panel. Since there are far fewer successful female comedians than male, we end up with one of two situations: Either the same women appear on show after show after show or producers cast mediocre talent based on the fact that they have breasts.

What we're ending up with is a boardroom full of women who are not the best for the job, and panel shows filled with comedians who aren't the best quality. So now we've got reinforcement of the (mistaken) beliefs that women can't run companies and women aren't funny. 

Of course, we need to address these issues. We need equality. We need to eliminate the perceptions that men are automatically better for the job. We cannot ignore amazing women in favour for a man who isn't the best choice. But this is not going to happen by given women a fastpass to the top based on their ovaries. I don't know about you, but I'd rather have a few, highly successful women at the top, than several mediocre ones. Surely that's sending out a better message? Imagine that every woman in the boardroom, or every woman on TV, was the best person for the job and incredibly successful in their work. Wouldn't that show that women can achieve?

Source

The problem is, hiring women over men is not equality. True equality is quite simple: Choose the person most suited for the role. I don't care if they're male, female or martian. Gender should not come into the issue at all.

As an aside, can we take a while to talk about the number of women who hold senior positions in caring and nurturing roles? 67% of headteachers and deputy headteachers are female. 60% of women are human resources managers. 47% of GPs are female, and that's only 3% away from "true equality". But I guess these jobs don't count. Is that because they're "women's jobs"?

Allow me to reiterate: I don't think it's ok that so few women hold top corporate roles. However, I cannot see that quotas are the way forward in achieving equality. 

It boils down to, as Jennifer Saunders said when hosting a BBC panel show, "Hello and welcome to Have I Got News For You. I'm The Woman". Isn't that a bit patronising? To me, that says "It doesn't matter about your body of work, it doesn't matter about your achievements. You have a womb, so we're hiring you because we have to". 

Maybe it's just me, but I want to be hired based on my merits, rather than my lack of Y chromosomes.

Become a YouTube millionaire with Glamour Magazine

I seem to have gained quite the reputation as the go-to person for opinions on magazines (and possibly shooting myself in the foot in the process!). Yesterday, Albertine from Dippy Writes tweeted me to ask what I thought about this Glamour Magazine headline. 

Now, I like Glamour a lot. It's my favourite of all the women's monthlys so I'm certainly not going to rip it to shreds the way I would... ooh, I don't know... Company, say. However, this headline just looked too good and, after stopping off in the station cafe to buy my copy, I launched right into it on the train. It was amazing! Amazing in an Is-this-writer-for-real? way.

First of all, let's take a closer look at that headline: "Secrets of the YouTube millionaires and how you can be one too". Earning a million pounds from my videos? Yes, please! The article also lists YouTubers who are in "The Million+ Club", such as Zoella and Tanya Burr. Wow, I didn't know they earned over a million! Oh, wait. The reference to millions is in terms of subscribers, not pounds. Slightly misleading. I wouldn't be impressed if I was one of the YouTubers who are implied to earn over a million.

Now let's read the article in a little more detail and pick out some key quotes.

It's a career game-changer: once they've grabbed the attention of their audience, they are commanding advertising revenue, sponsorship deals, TV guest appearances and opportunities to develop their own product ranges.

It's that simple, kids! Except it's not. How many vloggers are there out there with tens and thousands of subscribers, who have certainly "grabbed the attention of their audience" but are still working full time? Lots. Because it's not that easy!

I know I'm new to YouTube but let's for the moment take blogging as a very similar industry. I've been blogging for over 2 years now. I work on it around 25 hours a week. I earn advertising and sponsorship money, sure, but in 20 months, I've yet to earn a total of four figures. That's the reality. Not only is it anything but a career-changer, it's not even enough to live on. 

Social media expert Steve Ward, from recruitment company CloudNine, has seen a surge in women considering vlogging as a career over the past three years.

What? It doesn't work like that! If you have dreams to be a full-time YouTuber, then awesome! By all means work towards that. But who on Earth is going to a recruitment agency and saying "Have you got any vlogging roles?" For most people, it's just not a viable career option and certainly not one you should rely on. It's like going into a recruitment agency and saying "I'm considering being a Hollywood actress as a career". You might be able to make some money from a less glamorous form, but only a select few will make that elite.

Hit the 50,000 subscriber mark and you're in business because, on top of advertising revenue, that's when sponsorship offers start hitting your inbox. Sponsors will pay thousands (in some cases up to £10,000 for one video).

So much wrong with this, I don't know where to start! A) The assumption here is that if you reach 50k subscribers, that's it. Put your feet up, you're set for life! B) Sponsorships often start waaay before that mark anyway. C) Sponsorships are not going to be thousands unless you are one of those biggies (ie: Not 50k).

Cereal brand Krave set YouTubers a range of weird tasks to reach viewers... [A YouTuber] received a remote control car, a megaphone, a bow and arrow, a boomerang and Post-it Notes, and was challenged to get a bowl of Krave from the kitchen without leaving her bed- the video of her struggles has amassed more than 200,000 views.

"Wow! Get me on YouTube! I want to strap a bowl of cereal to a remote control car!" Seriously, what? For one thing, this is not news: There are always totally irrelevant companies (Krave, really?) trying to get bloggers and YouTubers to join in with "zany" challenges for a bit of (usually free) advertising. More to the point though, what was in it for her? Did she get paid? Why are you telling us this? The opportunity to whizz a bowl of crunchy chocolate-filled cereal around the house is not exactly in my career plan.

The article then gives 5 tips on "how to join the YouTube superstars". Common sense stuff, really: Choose a good name, don't give out too much personal information. Good advice for all YouTubers but not exactly a 5-point plan to instant success. If only I could become a YouTube superstar by not revealing my surname! 

On feminism

Deep breath. Ok, I've been sitting on this post for a long time, and I never had the courage to come out and write it. I know feminism is a controversial subject and there are a whole slew of different- strong- opinions on it. This is part of the reason I want to discuss it. 

The reason I finally decided to go ahead and post this is because of an article I read in last month's Elle magazine (I put it down and forgot about it until earlier this week). The article featured a number of different views on feminism, together with graphics and illustrations to support the discussion. Unfortunately, there were two graphics that I had a real problem with. 

Here's the first:
This is the problem: None of these apply to me. Not a single one (well, except the hairy legs bit but I always shave them if I'm getting them out!). Now I feel like I'm letting the side down. I'm girly- I like make up and fashion. I hate being active. I want to get married and have children. I'm a freaking primary school teacher. Could you get a more stereotypically female job? My lifestyle choices are being stigmatised by a group of people who feel that women should not be overtly feminine. 

Can we also take a moment to look at the comment that says "I'm in prison"? I'm sorry, but is this now something to strive towards? Are there not enough women in prison? Do we need to increase the number of female criminal convictions to ensure equality in the prison population?

I was already fuming over this- The implication that I'm letting womankind down by pandering to female stereotypes, when I turn the page and see this: A list of stereotypes that I'm not supposed to be. Erm, what now? What if I want to be a housewife, or even a mistress? I'll do whatever the hell I like, thank you very much!

This is the problem I have with the blanket term "feminism": It's often used as a way of telling women what they should do with their lives. Don't wear make up. Don't wear skirts. And for goodness sake, whatever you do, do not try to impress a man! Well, I want to look good. I want to please Rich. I want to get married and have children. So what?

Of course, some women don't want this. Some women are assexual. Some women never want children. Some women are masculine. Some women like to cover up. There's nothing wrong with that either. 

What I'm trying to say is: Why are we judging other women in the name of "feminism"? Nobody can decide what it means anyway. Take page 3 as an example. Some feminists vehemently defend a woman's right to make money in whichever way she chooses. Other feminists vehemently campaign to get page 3 banned. Why can't we just let the woman decide?

I know there are different waves and factions of feminism but I've decided to make up my own. It's called the "Let Every Woman Do Whatever The Hell She Wants" School of Feminism Thought. Now what exactly is wrong with that? 

On classism and grammar

Deep breath. Ok, this might be long. Before I start, let me tell you that I have a massive chip on my shoulder about class. I grew up on a council estate, in a broken home, on free school meals with a summer birthday. For this reason, I am passionate about defending equal opportunities for the working class, and let me tell you, I mean passionate. I'm also passionate about written English, as I demonstrated in my Grammar for Bloggers post. I strongly believe that it is a key skill for life and that everyone should leave school competent in spelling and grammar. I also fight doggedly for educational opportunities for children of other nationalities, especially Pakistani children. 

Now, I saw a tweet this evening that made me giggle, so I retweeted it. It read:

"I don't judge people based on their race, gender, colour, or sexuality. I judge people based on spelling, grammar, and sentence structure".

Let me make this very clear: It is a tongue-in-cheek comment, clearly aimed at those people who speak English. (I'll start by saying that people with learning difficulties or special educational needs are obviously exempt from this as they do have real barriers that could- although not necessarily- become a barrier to their learning). However, within a couple of minutes, I'd received a tweet saying that this was a "classist and potentially racist" comment. The reasoning behind this was that people from working class backgrounds don't have as much access to education. 

I'll admit that I have never considered that people might use incorrect grammar because they're poor. I've probably never considered this because it's a ridiculous assumption. Education is free, and has been since 1944. Therefore, all children can attend education up to the age of 18, and not have to pay a thing, regardless of their background. 

The implication that people may have bad grammar because they're poor is an offensive and damaging one. It assumes that people from working class backgrounds are less able to achieve and that, therefore, there is something inherently wrong with their ability to learn, since we've already established that they have the same access to education as anybody else. It does nothing but perpetuate the stereotype that the working classes are uneducated. 

Middle class and rich people can have poor grammar just as much as working class people can. The view that poor people are more likely to be uneducated throws up all sorts of logic puzzles- What if you're born rich but some problem results in a loss of family earnings? Or what if you're working class through and through but win the lottery when you're 16?

Let me put it this way: As already mentioned, I grew up about as working class as you can get. I achieved well at school and college, and eventually graduated with a first class honours degree. I am not the exception to the rule. There is no rule. 

I never once considered that my background might be a barrier to my learning, and I will never have lower expectations of those children from poorer backgrounds. In fact, I've never even thought that it might be a barrier... because it's not. Every child can achieve just as well as any other and I will defend this for my entire life. 

Quickly, let's mention the fact that there is no racist element whatsoever. I teach a mix of children, from Pakistani to African, Polish and White British. In all my years of teaching, there has never been a correlation between race and attainment. Of course people who don't speak English as their first language might find it tricky, but that's nothing to do with race. There's a difference between race and nationality, but we won't go into that now. 

We are all human beings. We are all born with the same chemistry and the same ability to learn. The balance of our parents' bank balances play absolutely no part in this. 

On being plus size

I publish a lot of what might be called "fat acceptance" posts. My participation in 25 things fat people shouldn't do and How to be a fat B features are two such examples. Yet every time I post one of these, I get the same comments "You're not fat!" "You don't look plus size!" "But you're gorgeous!"

I appreciate these comments. I really do, but here's the deal: They all seem to be aimed at making me feel not fat: "But you're gorgeous, you're not fat!" Of course, the assumption here is that fat and gorgeous are two mutually exclusive things; I can't possibly be fat, because I'm attractive. Yet I could list a whole myriad of gorgeous, fat women. So I'm happy to be perceived as gorgeous (who isn't?) but let's appreciate that I'm fat too. 

The fact remains that I am fat. I'm a couple of pounds away from 200, have a BMI of 34 (obese) and I'm a UK size 16. Whether I look it or not, I am fat: Medically, socially and any other way you can think of. 

I'm ok with that. As I've mentioned before, my weight has been up, down, up again, down again and up again. The fact is that I like Curly Wurlys too much to care about a little extra weight! 

Here's the odd thing though: I feel that in blogging, I don't really have a "niche". I don't fit in with the regular size 8-12 bloggers and neither do I fit into the plus-size bloggers. When I look at gorgeous fat ladies like Jes (The Militant Baker), Rachele (The Nearsighted Owl) and Georgia (Cupcake's Clothes), I understand why people don't consider me plus size. It's a strange situation when, in this society obsessed with thinness, I'm left feeling not plus sized enough. 

So where does that leave me? Well, for now, I'm happy floating along in my obese-but-not-entirely-plus-size blogging bubble. Who's with me? 

An open letter to Company Magazine

I'll admit I'm quite fond of Company magazine. Ok, the endless word hybrids do my head in (up-dospiration? Really?) but I've always found it very accessible. I appreciate the way they explain how other women got their ultimate jobs, but without feeling the need to tell you how to please your man. Then there's the body image thing. I'm going to be honest here- I'm not one of those girls who finds slim models and diet advice infuriating. I understand why slim models are used in the industry, and it does make sense, and I think that if you want to get fit or lose some extra weight, some exercise and diet tips are beneficial. Nevertheless, it was refreshing to have a magazine that didn't slap GET YOUR BIKINI BODY IN 14 DAYS across the cover.

Then I came across this article: The First Rule of Skinny Club. I won't go into too many details but, suffice to say, it tells the tale of an anonymous writer who lies to her friends about eating before she came out to avoid cake and exercises obsessively. Ok, so it sounds like she has an eating disorder. Good on Company to raise this issue, right?

Only it's not a sympathetic exposé on the truth of eating disorders in young women. It is, without any hint of irony, thinspiration. It ends with this paragraph.

Are you freaking kidding me, Company? It's ok to deny yourself food, to exercise whilst brushing your teeth, to lie to your friends about your eating habits since you'll end up with a body like Rita Ora. It's worth it? Really? Don't even get me started on the title- Skinny Club. Like it's a cool clique that we all want to be a part of. The whole article makes this unhealthy obsession sound aspirational, glamorous and normal. It doesn't even mention the fact that these are the signs of an eating disorder.

There will be young girls reading this article, who want to lose a bit of weight to look like Rita Ora or Alexa Chung, and think this sounds like the ideal solution. Here's a respectable magazine, telling them that it's all worth it to look like their icons, and since it makes no mention of it being a psychological illness, they won't realise that this is not ok. The article is giving young girls tips on how to develop an eating disorder, simultaneously assuring them that it is a great idea.

Let me tell you. There is nothing glamorous or cool about eating disorders. About collapsing because you haven't swallowed anything but Diet Coke for 36 hours. About developing a severe kidney infection from dehydration. About growing white fuzzy hair all over your body. It is not cool. It is not normal. It is an illness and it can kill you. 

I can only hope that Company consider the articles they print more carefully in the future. They have a responsibility to the young women who read their magazine. Let's use that responsibility for good.