Hey Samantha Brick, you can be friends with fitties!
I love being a girl with hot mates. I love it. I was out on Saturday with pixie perfect @jo_rourke and the sexy, statuesque @ashleyfryer and we spent about 20 minutes discussing which Renaissance painter would be best placed to paint @missebw and her luminous skin. I have watched grown men fall off pavements as @peachesanscream passes and spill drinks and forget their own names in the presence of @amytweetedthis. I’ve watched a waiter start stammering in the presence of @luc7m just after she told us she wasn’t wearing any make up. Instead of writing a post, I could just use the rest of this space to name check my beautiful girlfriends (@_staceysutton, @laurenbravo, @ewasr, @sarahrapp HIYA!)
I don’t hate you because you’re beautiful, hot girl mates. (I hate you because you smell. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA not really.) You’re beautiful in a way that makes me get emotional as well as pervy. I love checking out your outfits, arses and accessories. And I do sometimes look at you and wish I had your legs/fringe/awesome skull bag. But not to the point of actual envy. If I don’t wave when you walk past, it’s not because I think everyone I have ever slept with prefers your tits to mine and I want you dead. It’s because I haven’t put my contacts in or have been distracted by a burrito shop.
Surrounding myself with gorgeous girls hasn’t made me bitter, miserable, self loathing and friendless. When I’m in the presence of hotness, I feel… relaxed. An enormous glass of Pinot Grigio to the good. It’s sunshine on my shoulders. A lovely scented bubble bath. It feels positively intoxicating. It might just be a coincidence that my fittest friends are the funniest, and that my hips still hurt from a weekend of giggling. I couldn’t not be friends with girls. We nurture each other. We’re kind to each other when we’re crap at being kind to ourselves. We’re generous. And we do get insecure, and have whole conversations themed around “you’re so hot and I’m so shit”, but we talk each other off the ledge. We allow each other to be anxious, paranoid, hungover and emo because when you care about someone you don’t expect them to be perfect all the time. You let them have feelings.
And on that theme, sometimes people are dicks. You fight, you fall out, and hopefully you make up but not always. This might be because they’ve been insensitive or they hold beliefs that you find objectionable or they refused to look after your dog when you got stuck in Panama. (You know who you are, bitch.) But unless you’ve been on a reality TV show, you don’t have a fight with someone that begins and ends with “YOUR VAGINA IS NICER THAN MY VAGINA! I HATE YOU!”
So, if you’re a girl and you’re my mate, I’d be proud to have you as a bridesmaid, no matter how hot and gorgeous you are. (To be honest, I’d rather have fitties in my wedding pictures.) When we walk down the street and you get hollered at, I’m thinking “damn the patriarchy!” – but I’m secretly thinking “If I was the patriarchy and I didn’t know any better, I’d holler too.” Remember all this when the sexy men are queuing up to send you champagne – and ask for a glass for me. Hey, I’m so goshdarn gorgeous that Pizza Express keep sending me all these 2 for 1 vouchers. And I’d be proud to treat my beautiful lady friends to a complimentary Padana.
@NotRollergirl is a funny funny lady. If you ever find out her true identity, you should befriend her immediately. She does a mean karaoke version of [insert all songs, ever] and knows every Abba song ever recorded, including those weird ones that weren’t in Mamma Mia. You can follow her on Twitter (recommended for daily giggles) or check out her excellent work on Sabotage Times.