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Dear Aunt Know-It-All:
I'm FAT. I'm not a little chubby. I'm not a bit overweight. I'm as fat as Beth Ditto, only I can't sing. Ever since I was little people have teased me about my weight and called me names. I've pretty much gotten used to it, but, to be honest, I don't like the summer in a pretty major way. Usually I get by wearing baggy sweatshirts and tracksuit bottoms, but last summer was so hot I actually fainted on the bus! (At least I was already sitting down so nobody noticed!) What am I going to do if it's that hot again? I mean, I can't stay in the house all summer, can I? I thought of wearing a chador, but I'm not sure what the rules are (you know, if you can wear one if you're Church of England). And I don't have the money to like go to Alaska or someplace like that till September.
Victim of Global Warming
Dear Victim
No, you can't stay in the house all summer. Well, you could (our neighbour has a friend who hasn't left the house in TEN YEARS because she's afraid of being abducted by aliens), but I wouldn't really recommend it. Not only will you get scurvy and damage your eyes from lack of sunlight, you'll probably put on weight because you're sitting round the house all day, watching telly and eating food that comes in packets (which, let's face it, is not the way Nature intended). And, although I understand where you're coming from (I once wore a ski hat for An Entire Week - day and night - because of a bad haircut), I don't think the chador idea would work from the perspective of heat and fainting in public. What I think you should do is buy some flowy skirts and tops and get out there and EMBRACE LIFE, the way Beth Ditto does (you don't see her skulking about disguised as a tent, do you?). I mean, really, if you think about it, unless you're going to do something constructive re your size, there's no point in being ashamed of your body, is there? It's the only one you've got.
Dear Aunt K:
I'm not bad looking. (Lots of people say I'm pretty.) And my figure's okay and my legs aren't bad either. So I've always been pretty confident, and am known as a trendy dresser. But I was getting ready for the summer with my annual Spring once-over when I noticed my knees! (I don't know why I missed them before, I mean, they're right THERE, aren't they? - I must've been in denial!) My knees look like albino potatoes. How am I going to wear a playsuit (which, as you know, is like a requirement this season) with knees like that?
Knobbly and Knows It
Dear Knobbly:
That's the trouble with summer, isn't it? Because so much more of us is on VIEW, there's tres much more to worry about (I nearly did myself a permanent injury trying to twist round in the mirror to see my back!) But I don't really see what your problem is. No-one over three should be wearing a playsuit in the first place, no matter what the fashionistas tell you. (Ask yourself this: Why does Fashionism sound so much like Fascism?) And as for your knees - trust me, if you're wearing shorts or a little skirt, no one's going to notice the bit that makes your legs bend.
Dear Aunt Know-It-All:
Why do people have children? I just got over the worst flu in history. It was all I could do just to breathe and occasionally moan in pain. But did my mother sympathize? Did my mother stay home to nurse me back to health? Did she bring me treats and wipe my fevered brow? NO SHE DID NOT. She said it was my own fault that I got sick because I went out in the rain and that freak cold snap in my pink satin heels and matching tank dress with only my glittery cardigan. (And what was I meant to do? You can't wear an anorak in an outfit like that!) I was so appalled by her behaviour that I'm seriously thinking of calling Child Protection. Do you think I should, or would that by a Step Too Far?
Undecided
Dear Undecided:
This is precisely what I mean by the inability of anyone with grey hairs and baggy skin to understand their daughters' lives. Your mother is TOO OLD to realize that girls will DO ANYTHING to look cute. If this means they have to cross the Antarctic in a bikini then that's what they'll do. I don't think you should turn her in to Child Protection because it probably wouldn't work (they're going to all be old biddies who will side with your mum, aren't they?). But you could try getting a decent raincoat out of her so this sort of thing doesn't happen again. (And as for your question: Why do people have children? God only knows. My experiences with my more or less step sisters The Deadly Duo and my niece the piglet suggests that they're a lot more bother than they're worth!!!)
Dear Aunt K:
What makes adults so UNREASONABLE? I got into a MAJOR FIGHT with my parents the other day and it wasn't because I broke a glass or forgot to take the rubbish out or tidy my room or any of the usual things. Get this! It was because I was TRYING TO DO A GOOD deed. I brought out a couple of black bags full of old clothes and they had a complete hissy fit. My mother said that When She Was a Girl you didn't wear things once and then chuck them. I pointed out that not only had some of the things been worn MORE THAN ONCE, but there was a mustard stain on the white top, a rip in the purple skirt, and that I absolutely didn't like that Chinese jacket any more. My dad said then I could get the stain from the top, sew the rip in the skirt and learn to love the jacket again. I said I'd a teenager, not a SERVANT! And you know what they did? They stopped my clothing allowance! They said I'm selfish and spoiled and that until I learn the value of a quid the only way I'll get any new clothes is if I pay for them MYSELF. I don't see what's selfish and spoiled about not wanting to look like a street person. Do you?
Dressing in RAGS
Dear Rags:
I have it on good authority (the Mad Cow's boyfriend Buskin' Bob, the eco-warrior) that we teenagers are VICTIMS of the multinationals. Buskin' Bob says that even before we're born some geezer's trying to sell us something. At first I thought this was just more of his usual rubbish. I mean, how can you sell something to a person who's still splashing about like a frog? You might as well try to sell cars to a village of refugees in war-torn Africa. (He said if the refugees had parents with a bit of dosh they probably would.) Then I was home with the flu for a few days and couldn't do anything but watch daytime telly. And you know what? Buskin' Bob was right! It was one advert after another - and most of them aimed at kids that could barely speak. So you tell your parents that you're not spoiled and selfish - what you are IS A VICTIM who deserves sympathy and understanding, not punishment. That should give them something to think about.
Dear Aunt-Know-It-All:
My mother says that if I spent half as much time LEARNING as I do putting on my make-up I could be anything I want. I said well that's all right then, isn't it, 'cos what I want to be is STOP IN YOUR TRACKS GORGEOUS. I mean, if you had the choice of being Kate Winslett or Cherie Blair, which would you choose? My mother says I'm shallow as a puddle. Am I?
I Mix My Own Colours
Dear Mixed Colours:
My aunt (the feminist, lesbian, hard-core anarchist) says that girls are conditioned to think that beauty is more important than anything else. (I said she wouldn't say that if she herself didn't bear such a striking resemblance to Sean Penn. She said she would.) Personally, I think we're concerned about our looks because of the Life Force. After all, the Survival of Our Species depends on the majority of us having children. If all we're concerned about is World Peace or climate change or ending povert,y the human race will die out pretty sharply. Think about it. When you're little you never wonder about whether your nose comes to a point or if your eyebrows are thicker than Lindsay Lohan's. You'll go out in public in rags with your hair uncombed and your face as naked as the day you were born. But once you cross the threshold of Womanhood you suddenly realize just how important your physical appearance is. Hair, skin, ears, eyes, mouth, nose, nails, eyelashes, nostrils, earlobes, toes, fingers, elbows, kneecaps, hips, bum, thighs, ankles, back, chest, navel, chin ... all these things (and more!) that you used to take for granted become the Enemy Without practically overnight. You never know when something's going to sprout or turn red or swell up and betray you. You want to look your very best at all times, because if you don't you might miss finding the love of your life, never have children, and be responsible for the destruction of the entire species. Who wants to bear that burden?
Dear Aunt Know-It-All:
I know exactly what I want to look like (like either Britney Spears, Sienna Miller or Keira Knightley), but I don't. I've tried the haircuts, I've tried the clothes, I've tried the make-up, but I still look like me. So I've decided to have my face totally reconstructed. My parents are putting money aside for my university education (which if you consider all the graduates you're always reading about who can't get jobs is pretty futile if you ask me) but they won't pay for this even though I've told them that I won't go to university with my face as it is, it just wouldn't be worth it. So I was thinking of starting one of those websites where I smile a lot and wear bathing suits and pyjamas and blokes give me money and gifts. Here's my problem. I don't want to keep all the lolly I've been given or even my passbook in my room because my mum would be sure to find it. But the only person I'd trust to look after it for me is my best friend, Shara - and I don't really trust her. She wouldn't nick anything, but she does have a BIG MOUTH, and if her mother got wind of it she'd tell her the truth. Do you think I'm being overly cautious? Is it possible to rent a vault or something like that, that my mum would never find out about?
Almost Britney
Dear Almost:
What you are is Almost Unbelievable! Cautious?!!! Are you on drugs? You're about as cautious as a suicide bomber! If I was going to describe You in one word it'd be more along the lines of Calamitous - or possibly certifiable - but not cautious. What do you think you're doing? Are you the only teenager in the country who doesn't watch television? Do you know what could happen if you invited every sex pervert in THE WORLD to see you dancing about in your nightie? Don't you have any sense of self-preservation? For God's sake - people aren't even allowed to film their children's Nativity plays any more and you want to put yourself on the WEB. If I were you, I wouldn't be worried about my face, I'd be worried about my mind. And as far as the idea of making yourself look like someone else - it didn't work for Michael Jackson so what makes you think it would work for you?
Dear Aunt K:
My nose is so big that the only way I'll ever get a date is if Pinocchio moves to Hackney. I've begged and pleaded with my parents but they absolutely refuse to let me have it fixed. My dad said if I want it that badly I'll just have to save up for it, won't I? My mum keeps banging on about some story about a bloke with a big nose who ends up with this really beautiful girl because of his brilliant personality. Should I start saving now, or do you think my mum's right and it's what's inside that counts and my true inner beauty will be seen by this really gorgeous bloke who falls in love with me for myself?
Beautiful Heart but Really Big Nose
Dear Beautiful:
My general policy on plastic surgery (unless you've been in a hideous car crash or something like that) is that you should wait until you really need it (like when you're my mother's age). Besides, let's face the truth here - by the time you save up enough for a nose job your bum will be sagging or you'll have cellulite and you'll need the money to have that seen to. But that doesn't mean that you're going to end up with some lad who looks like Jude Law just because your heart would make Penelope Cruz look like the dog's dinner. It's a sad fact of life that you'll see a lot more men who look like trolls swanning about with beautiful girls hanging off them than vice versa. Look at your average rock star, for instance. They all end up with models - and usually the same ones. (And, my research has shown that it's not just rock stars, who might be forgiven because they're usually drunk or drugged. The famous playwright Arthur Miller, who was definitely never a sex god himself, was once married to Marilyn Monro!. And there's that other famous writer, who's about as attractive as cold porridge, who's married to this much younger and gorgeous model!) Sappho says that the reason men chose beauty over brains is because men can see better than they can think. Only Prince Charles seems to prefer substance to form. And he's already taken - not to mention OLD.
[to be continued!!!]
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Sunday 3rd June 2007