10 (Bad) Reasons to be a Grinch

"But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small." Dr Seuss



There are of course, many reasons to hate Christmas (please see below, 10 Reasons to Hate Christmas), the main one being the apathy and feigned depression and hopelessness that has become so fashionable lately.  Christmas is like the ultimate competition in how completely miserable and unjoyful you can be in the face of a whole holiday devoted to eating, drinking and giving and receiving gifts with people you love.  
"I saw a reindeer outside the supermarket yesterday helping to raise money for sick children.  I felt nothing except the crushing weight of the overwhelming pointlessness of my life."
"Oh yeah?  Well, beat this, I saw Santa Claus giving out Christmas dinners to elderly people, and I didn't even smile!"

If you are reading this and gearing up for a rant on how the terrible STRESS of having to buy gifts AND make dinner with only 12 months notice and how awful it is to have to go in the attic and get down the decorations, and how next year you are totally going to go though flight booking, airports, expensive hotels and trying to find a shops selling bikinis and suncream in December to have a completely non-stressful escape from the horror of twinkly lights, please go away and book it.  No-one cares.  You are boring us.  You are ruining it for those of us capable of having a good time.

10 Reasons to Hate Christmas

1.       You are too lazy to make dinner once a year.

2.       You hate your entire family and friendship group

3.       You had a traumatic childhood experience involving glitter and/or lights and the sight of these things now triggers panic attacks.

4.       You are such a miserable git that songs of other people being joyful and happy cause you to melt into a jealous green puddle of anger.

5.       You are a turkey, or a pine tree.

6.       You detest the sight of excited children.

7.       The thought of giving something thoughtful to the people you care about and receiving something nice in return fills you with dread.

8.       You are terrified that all the charity, cheer, and goodwill to all (wo)men may cause you to accidentally show a shred of a smile or some emotion and thus destroy your super-cool nonchalant façade of unearned cynicism.

9.       Red and Green are soooooooo not your colours.

10.   You are severely allergic to reindeer, snow or tinsel.

From top: Lucy the dog, lunch in casemates, work outfits for cooler weather, Sunday dog walk, Hello Kitty inspired nails :)

Feminism is not about clothes

I have very mixed feelings about the "End Page 3" campaign, as I do about "Slut Walk".

On the one hand, I understand the logic behind both.  The End Page 3 Campaign is stating that a woman has a right not to be viewed as a sexual object, and that women clearly intended to be viewed as sex objects should not be included in a mainstream publication like the Sun, available to all ages.

“Slut Walk” proudly proclaims that women should be allowed to walk round in hardly any clothes at all, and no-one else should be allowed to comment on it.

The premise of Slut Walk is very shaky.  If a girl decides to dress as a “sexy witch” for Halloween, and none of the men she meets glance appreciatively at her, let’s not pretend this wouldn’t knock her confidence.  And, let’s not pretend that a huge proportion of girls, often identifying as feminists, DO dress in “sexy” outfits for nights out, and especially Halloween, and DO enjoy the attention that brings.

More to the point, men can’t help noticing a pretty girl in a short skirt and corset, any more than any women can claim they wouldn’t notice if a Brad Pitt lookalike walked into a bar. 

I was under the impression that one of the central concepts of feminism was giving girls CHOICES.  The End Page 3 campaign aims to take the choice to pose topless for the Sun away from girls, on the basis that they don’t know what’s good for them and they are making that choice because they are un-empowered.  Isn’t this all a bit…patriarchal?

It would be interesting to see how Lucy Anne Holmes views other types of nudity in the media.  For example, I haven’t heard that anyone views the “Calendar Girls” and the multiple copy cats of them to be anti-feminist.  Why?  Because the women are middle aged, and thus the concept of sexy is amusing and ridiculous?  Is that a feminist outlook? 

What about life models?  The concept here is not supposed to be sexy, but as a life model myself, I can safely say that most of the men who have been allowed to see the pictures have only been able to see boobs, no matter how artistic and tastefully shot or painted the pictures are.  It is sad and confusing to me that so many people cannot appreciate the human body of both genders to be simply beautiful, rather than purely sexual, but art is all about interpretation.

Frankly, I think we’re missing the point, and even accidentally attacking our own cause.  All this focus on what women wear in feminism is exactly what we DON’T want.  The concept we should ALL be pushing- from Page 3 models to dungaree lovers is that no matter what I wear or have worn, I have the right to be taken seriously when I speak.  I have the right to have the same opportunities as men.  I have the right not to be touched without my consent.

As feminists, our credibility is fatally damaged if we judge one another, and allow ourselves to be divided based on what we wear.  Let’s empower girls to have the opportunities and the strength to know that they can become a CEO, but not assume they are exploited if they decide to be a topless model instead.  

Red and White

This weekend is Gibraltar National Day, when the Gibraltarians wear red and white to celebrate the vote in which they decide to stay British.  Being quite obviously British already, this all goes somewhat over our heads.  We didn't attend the UB40/Jessie J concert last night, although we could hear the music all the way over here on the other side of the border, so I imagine it was a pretty good show.

It was then quite by accident I wore this outfit, and was congratulated on my support for National Day!  Sadly my camera only took one picture this time before the battery was zapped (hopefully it will be replaced soon!) so I can't get a close up of the shoes- they are red and white polka dot flamenco shoes which I picked up for a ridiculous 10 EUR- around £7.50 at the current rates.

Dress- £14 shop in Aberystwyth (no idea of the name!)
Cardi- £6, Matalan
Belt- around £4, leather shop in Morocco
Shoes- around £7.50, one of La Lineas many shoe shops
Lipstick- £4.49 Barry M

Why I hate uniforms

 A uniform means different things to different people.  A police officers or army uniform may give pride to the wearer, and instill fear or respect in the viewer.  A nurses uniform might reassure you you are in safe hands.  A shop assistant or waitresses uniform may let you know who to ask for help or who can direct you to the ladies room.  We in the UK, however, have a peculiar obsession with uniform.   Our children wear one almost every day from the ages of 4-18, and then most of us, at some point, will work in a job that requires a uniform.

And it's not just the clothes that constitute the "uniform" either.  Particularly in schools and low paid jobs, those in authority are quick to make sure that no deviation, however slight, is made.  To different extents, schools have prohibitions on nail varnish, jewellery, make-up....My school did not allow any jewellery, we had uniform coats which had to be worn on the walk to school, and the primary school even had uniform socks.  Think of the wasted teaching time each year spent on berating or sending kids home for a hooded top over a shirt, a slightly too short skirt or too high heels, the wrong tie, nail varnish.......is this really what we want the limited education budget to be spent on?

I particularly remember the summer I had my ears pierced.  Every day for 6 weeks I cleaned them as instructed but come September, they still hadn't quite healed.  My mum went out and bought the tiniest gold studs, which I wore under my pigtails.  As soon as a teacher cottoned on, I was made to lift up my pigtails to show that, yes, I had taken my studs out, were my ears bleeding to their satisfaction? and every evening, I repierced them.  The excuse was "safety".  LOL.

But, I hear you cry, WHAT ABOUT THE BULLYING?  Bullying is something that doesn't ever happen in the UK.   Because all the children wear the same clothes, they are nice to each other.  No matter that some children are wearing hand me downs that are too big for them with shiny knees and elbow patches, whilst others wear brand new.  No matter that most areas do not have only one school, and thus frequently arguments break out between rival schools on the walk home.  The parents of the "poor kids" who, everyone worries,  would not be able to afford the same Nike trainers as his peers would probably be happy to learn that they no longer had to worry about lost jumpers, black shoes which scuff and fall apart and are grown out of in weeks, and getting those white shirts ironed by Monday.

The rest of Europe, America and Australasia manages perfectly fine without school uniforms- some have more, some have less bullying than in the UK.  The outfit does not make a difference.  However, to some of us, it really does.  My whole life, clothes have been a major outlet for self-expression for me.  Being forced into a hideous lime green and grey get up every day for 6 years was devastating for my self-esteem, and it wasn't until 6th form that I considered the possibility that I wasn't hideous.

And, is this not sometimes the point?  We force menial workers into uniforms of various levels of ridiculousness.  The point is clear- YOU minimum wage shelf stacker, cannot be trusted to dress sensibly- but your manager can.  Once somebody is in uniform, there is no longer a person.  There is a checkout girl, a McDonalds worker, a soldier, a schoolgirl.  From the age of 4, we tell our children that their individuality is something dangerous, something naughty, something that will get them bullied.  Isn't it about time we changed that?

Gwen's Recipes- Chicken Tagine with Lemony Couscous

We are lucky enough to live a stones throw from Morocco and recently visited Tangiers and Fez for a long weekend.  The Moroccans are incredibly hospitable and warm people and as well as enjoying the wide variety of artisan crafts available in Fez we also indulged in lots of the traditional food!  We picked up a traditional conical tagine dish for less than a fiver whilst we were out there, and came back with dozens of spices from a spice shop in Tangiers. You may be able to find premixed tagine spice, like the one we brought home, in a large supermarket or ethnic food shop but if not you can make it yourself.  Tagine is the quintessential Moroccan dish, warming and comforting in winter and yet light enough to enjoy in summer. Cooking the chicken in a lidded container steams it through giving it a wonderful tender texture. It's not difficult to make, but it does require an hour to an hour and a half in the oven so make this when you have time to curl up in the kitchen and enjoy the delicious aromas coming from the oven!

Serves 2

You will need a tagine dish, or a lidded casserole.

Ingredients:

For the tagine:

Olive oil- to fry
1 onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
3 or 4 garlic cloves
3 tbsp tagine spice OR:

2 tsp ginger
2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
Generous pinch of dried chilli flakes

1 tbsp tomato puree
300ml chicken stock
2 tbsp orange juice
100g dried fruit- apricots, prunes (pitted) raisins, etc.
4 skinless chicken legs or thighs
Salt and pepper (to taste)

Fresh coriander (optional)

For the couscous:

200g couscous
Pinch of saffron
6 cardamom pods
2 handfuls of frozen peas
Juice of one lemon

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C.
2. To make the tagine, fry the onion with the vinegar over a low heat until they start to caramelise.  
3. Add the spices and garlic and fry until they smell fragrant.
4. Add the chicken 
5. Add the tomato puree and chicken stock and bring to the boil.
6. Add the orange juice, dried fruit and salt and pepper if using and simmer for 10 minutes.
7. Transfer to the casserole or tagine, place in the oven and cook for 1-1.30 hours.
8. To make the couscous, place the saffron, cardamom pods and water in a lidded saucepan.  You should use about double the amount of water by volume as couscous, so if the couscous fills one mug, you should use two mugs of water.
9. Bring the water to the boil.
10. Add the peas and bring the water back to the boil.
11. Add the couscous, put the lid on the pan, and remove the pan from the heat.
12. Leave the pan for 10 minutes.  Do not remove the lid during this time.
13. Add the lemon juice and use a fork to mix in the lemon juice and fluff up the couscous.
14. You can garnish the dish with fresh coriander.  I added a plate of sliced tomatoes with salt and oregano and we helped ourselves to those.

Rainbow Summer

I love bright colours and when I spotted this gorgeous picnic crockery I wanted to share!  

The crystal design in the plastic acts like a prism spreading rainbows from the coloured base.  The Kaleidoscope picnicware is from Lakeland Plastics, and I worked out that 6 tumblers and bowls, and one jug works out at around £60- pricey for picnicware but the description assures me that the plastic is "unbreakable" so it could be worth it for a life time of rainbow coloured al fresco eating!  Factor in the number of pretty-but-miniature glasses that have ended up in small shards that get stuck in your feet in our flat and the fact we only have two cereal bowls and it begins to be a very justifiable purchase.  

I also finally got round to giving my nails some much needed TLC.  I copied the starfish design from Company magazine- it's surprisingly easy with 3 colours of nail polish and a couple of cocktail sticks.  The turquoise base coat is by Collection 2000, the pink starfish are from Miss Sporty, and the white spots are BYS.

 My fingernails are the same although my camera battery died before I got a pic.