So… it’s Friday again and you’ve bravely returned for your weekly glimpse into the murky world of sidebar shame. Also known as the abyss of frivolous news nothingness. Or headline hell.
Come with us now lovelies, leaving behind the world in which we live, where woman-shaped humans grow, develop and sometimes change the world. Where we somehow manage to study, hold down professional careers, run local groups, volunteer and marshal children with matriarchal magic whilst still having straight eyeliner.
Travel intrepidly, beyond this plane, to the cankerous pus-bucket of a universe far, far away. To Newsland, where wimmin have somehow morphed into decorative disappointments, existing and venturing out of doors only to showcase (parade, exhibit, flaunt) our assets (toned thighs, tanned shoulders, shapely forms, tits). In this world where we laydees are not on shopping trips, school runs and on our way to work, but are simply indoors undertaking repeated costume changes or waiting our turn on the great catwalk of life, to be judged, ridiculed and admonished in our successes and failures of skin tone, wardrobe or hairdo. A world where we do not need sleep, where white men feel safe and…
…actually don’t bother. It’s shit out there. Stay where you are, crack open that gin and have another chocolate digestive or six. Allow us to tell you all about it.
10) The not-so-big reveal
The Mirror, 28/04/2016
OH NO! NOT A REVEALING BIKINI. WHAT A TROLLOP! Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but bikinis tend to be quite revealing. That’s their job. No one says, gosh, I’m a bit nippy, I’ll cuddle up in my cosy bikini. Or I’m off to church, balls to this twin set and pearls, what’s communion-chic right now? That’s right muthafuckas, this bikini! If Ellie Goulding had walked down the road wearing a mongoose costume or dressed like a clown while toking on a crack pipe, maybe that’d be news. This? Not so much. But it does give some bitter old piss-bucket a thin excuse to print some wank fodder and that’s the important thing. Next week: Ellie Goulding eats a sandwich. Full long-lens pics and expert commentary inside.
9) Udderly ridiculous
The Daily Mail, 25/04/2016
This is an epochal moment. One for the history books. The Mail’s dedication to shaming and judging all human females is such that they have run out and had to start on other species who can’t talk and call them, say, a laughable bunch of fucktrumpets. This week they slut shamed an elephant, who stunned people who have never seen a pair of tits before. What next? The cat that flashed her anus? Scandal as rabbit’s vagina is spotted? Dog, flagrantly flaunts nipples in park? My mum’s dog washes her fanny with joyful enthusiasm and I once saw a chimp at Twycross having a really vigorous wank. Suck on that, Dacre.
8) The Sun happily get in a round of white (hot) Russians
The Sun, 24/04/2016
In our experience the Sun aren’t always very pro-immigration but it seems where it involves a bikini and heels combo even they can see the benefit of open borders. They know what’s important. Workers rights? Nah. Human rights? Yawwwn. Smoking hot hotties being able to live here if they just wear their skivvies…
7) Foot Lose
The Daily Mail, 27/04/2016
I have quite large feet. The issues they caused when attempting to buy school shoes caused my mother to refer to them as my “swamp gliders”. But even this level of familial abuse has never led me to feel any sense of shame about my feet, which I regard primarily as a means of propulsion. I can honestly go all day without thinking about them, or the pressing need to amputate toes so I fall within an arbitrary standard of physical perfection. How about staff at the Mail measure their chuffing feet, sit in a corner and have a little think about their general relevance?
6) Fuck. Off.
The Daily mail, 28/04/2016
Not content with encouraging women to become unhinged around food, men, handbags, bikinis, their own tits, other women, feet, scatter cushions, other women again and calories, it seems the Mail would like to see women go around the proverbial bend with sleep deprivation. Next week: ‘Waterboarding: A Rejuvenating Facial Treatment’ along with ‘Being Starved To Death By The Khmer Rouge Helped This Woman Diet.’
5) Good Morning Pervy
The Sun, 28/04/2016
Excellent. The Sun is always keen to address its readers as witless knuckle-draggers who are at least 90% testicle and, in this case, voyeuristic peeping Toms with the soul of the man who was arrested for wanking outside my house at university. In this case, the pretext is provided by Piers Morgan, who looks like a piece of microwaved ham stretched over the face of a minor Tory MP, vibrating at the thought of someone in the showers. We suppose this is very much like phone hacking, but instead of using a phone and one’s ears, a person invades someone’s privacy via a shower and their eyes. Oh, and presumably some kind of crowbar to gain entry to their flat.
P.S. I hope Susanna wees in your fucking shoe, Piers.
4) Woman has tits…yawn
The Express, 28/04/2016
Dear The Express,
Firstly, she’s an adult woman, not a girl. No-one ever called John Ketley a ‘Weather Boy’. Secondly, by ‘internet’ we suspect you mean some blokes who have yet to meet any actual women but do have access to broadband. Thirdly, large breasts are fairly commonplace in your and other similar publications, so can you please explain why you’re getting into such a pointless lather about them? Also, you share videos about people popping blackheads the size of an elephant’s tit, people being almost devoured whole, women in bikinis beating the shit out of people… what’s with all the pearl-clutching over some boobs? #justsaying
3) Woman talks about sport. Some blokes flip their shit
The Sun, 23/04/2016
TV panel shows about sport need someone to talk in between the bits where people answer questions on other people kicking things, hitting things with bats and sticks or running around. We suppose the question is: do her boobs get in the way of her talking about sport? And if the answer is ‘yes,’ was she supposed to remove her breasts beforehand?
Willoughby may not be Claire Balding, but she’s an experienced and charismatic presenter. Mind you, men never get given jobs where they have to talk about stuff they’re not experts in do they? I mean, Jeremy Hunt is a trained doctor with vast amounts of hospital management experience… isn’t he?
The Daily Mail, 28/04/2016
How the hell were those two kids not puking? They could see their mother’s actual fucking skin. Christ. Just thinking about Liv Tyler’s face without three millimeters of Max Factor smeared over it makes me want to bork up my kebab into this £10 knock-off Louis Vuitton I bought from the market in Crawley.
1) White Wash
The Daily Mail, 26/04/2016
In HQ this week, we’ve had a lot of discussions about Lemonade (Beyonce’s new world conquering visual album – for those of you who have been living in a bunker this week). Here are a couple of conclusions we reached:
- Is it appropriate to bunk off work to watch Lemonade on repeat? Answer, yes, totally.
- There should be a space called Lemonade Park, where women who have had enough of the general shite of everyday life can go, be given a baseball bat and a load of old junk to smash the crap out of. Kickstarter idea?
Oddly enough, we haven’t felt the need to comment on how scared we are of a powerful black woman using her platform to put the reality of black women’s lives front and centre in her art. Because, you know Piers, only a spoilt middle-aged, white man with too much money would think that his view on Beyonce is worth more than the toilet paper it’s written on. We don’t give a galloping fuck what Piers Morgan thinks and I’m sure Queen Bey doesn’t either!
In the words of the awesome @WritersofColour over on Twitter, “Please. For the love of God. If you are commissioning a piece on Lemonade – commission a black, female writer. It’s not that hard.”
So, here are some of our favourites:
So, there you are. Who doesn’t like tripe for breakfast? It just gets better each passing week; the blearily predictable puddles of toss. So heartening.
But anyway, before we slump off into a corner with one of Piers Morgan’s loafers and fill it with something that has the smell and consistency of rancid Weetabix topped with a lager shandy, we’d very much like to raise the tone and tell you about a fantastic project a friend of ours is working on:
It’s called Openly Unique and it’s for survivors of physical, sexual and emotional abuse. There’s a secret Facebook support group, should anyone wish to join, or to recommend to friend or family. Here’s a link with more information – Secret Facebook Group
And here’s the link on Twitter, Emily is lovely and will answer any questions you might have: @openlyunique