Sporty Spice was never my idol...

Sunday 22 April 2012 - Posted by rosielucocq at 09:49

The new Dove adverts have got me thinking. Whilst the statistic that 5 out of 10 girls will quit their afterschool activity due to low self esteem is both disgusting and shocking, I found myself neither disgusted nor shocked.
I used to swim a lot, I wasn’t brilliant... I was 10, I was eager and I really really really liked breaststroke (careful).  So why don’t I go swimming now? Why do I insist on ‘fasting’ or my recent venture into the ‘baby food diet’? Because swimming requires effort, oh and self esteem. The thought of shaving various places and then squeezing myself into lycra only to see the entirety of my community in the pool (the clue is in the phrase ‘community’ pool).
I don’t want to ‘community’ swim. As much as the thought of there being so many people in that pool, the thought of a gym fills me with even more dread. The thought of so many people seeing all my flab in all of its fucking glory whilst I sweat and fall over; hand me a brown paper bag and drive me the hell home.
I used to do something called ‘street jazz’ too. When I was hip and young(er), I used to dance like something out of a pop video and call it ‘having fun’. I did this every Saturday! Looking back, grown up me wouldn’t have enjoyed the dance moves we perfected (or in my case ruined), they were raunchy and a little tasteless. It was all a bit too grown up, which we loved, every 11 year old girl aspires of being older.
However, my dancing teacher used to make us say – every single bloody lesson – ‘I love myself’. Which, bearing in mind she later went on to have a boob job, was a little ironic. I don’t ever remember believing in myself fully in that over-oestrogenised environment, but perhaps it benefitted me. Because, nowadays, the only time I feel like I love myself is when I’m hammered, and even then there’s a 50/50 chance I’ll just end up crying and calling myself fat.
So maybe that’s what I need to do, I need to get drunk and then go to a gym. Get so bloody wasted that I don’t care if I’m sweaty or doing it wrong. Heck, I’ll just wear my trainers and take a skipping rope next time I go clubbing (I’ll wear a short skirt and a tie too, so it looks like I’m dressed up as a sexy school girl).
Someone once said that women would rule the world if we didn’t hate each other so much. But, following on from my post about Samantha, I think we just hate ourselves. We just need to accept what we’ve got, because not doing sport due to your undying hatred of yourself seems a little silly when I read this.
My name’s Rosie Lucocq, I’m 5’4” a little under 10 stone and all I really want is to be more toned. So, what am I going to do about it? I’m going to drink vodka and dance, silly! I’ll send you an invite on Facebook. 

That Don't Impress Me Much...

Wednesday 4 April 2012 - Posted by rosielucocq at 02:18

                Right, so following the recent stir with a certain Samantha Brick I wanted to get my opinion heard. I am sick to death of this self righteous attitude towards successful people; why do we always look to destroy someone as opposed to congratulate them?
                I say good on Samantha. Of course, there is this undying female response so deeply entrenched into my brain that tells me to hate her because she’s ‘definitely not pretty’ and ‘so bloody cocky’. But, nonetheless, I stay true to my word – more women need to be like Samantha, accept who they are and focus on themselves.
                In a survey powered by Dove it was discovered that 77% of British and American 10-14 year old girls considered themselves unattractive. And why the hell wouldn’t they? Don’t believe the obvious response about TV advertising, women on TV & male reaction – I say we look to bitchiness. From the age of about 8 I looked to my peers to reassure me of how I looked and how I should look, and how is Samantha any different? This woman isn’t looking for forgiveness or acceptance from other women. When did confidence become unattractive?
                I know people will call her cocky – why do we hate cocky people? Because they make us feel insecure. So how do we respond? We make them feel insecure. In a follow-up article from Samantha about the response, she writes about crying due to the amount of abuse she was receiving, and that’s what we want. We want her to hate herself as much as we hate ourselves, and then our boyfriends will carry on fancying us & not the woman who thinks she’s ‘all that’. Then, hopefully, our friends will carry on hating us because we’re beautiful and womankind will be restored.
                Because maybe that’s all this is, maybe it is simply about upsetting the PH balance of the world of women, we’ve managed to reach a 3 when we’re comfortable being a 7 (sometimes a 6 on sassy days). I would say that men don’t like women who need constant reassurance about how beautiful they are; but that isn’t what this is, is it? It’s about women wanting other women to feel insignificant to our incomparable beauty, and Samantha provides the perfect way to do this. We can comment about how she needs to shut up, because we’re not threatened by Samantha – Samantha isn’t as beautiful as us. It’s proven I promise! Everyone else on the internet is saying it...
(here she is, the utter cow)

                So I say to you, Samantha Brick, good on you. Good on you for finding yourself beautiful, for writing an article about it & for taking everything on the chin. If you’re reading this (which I highly doubt) you ought to know that I think you’re fantastic. Thank you for undoing the taboo of finding yourself attractive. I’m going to take your stance, next time I’m getting ready for a night out I’ll look at myself and say ‘I look good’ (before – of course – turning to my best friend and hearing her opinion). 

An Education with 'Life'

Tuesday 3 April 2012 - Posted by rosielucocq at 10:21

On Tuesday the 6th March my C of E sixth form was joined by a Mr Gooch from the organisation ‘Life’. There was an uneasy sentiment to the crowd, and the majority of students were not painting a pretty picture of what was to come. This, of course, was to be expected from a group of 17 and 18 year olds; if there ever was a ‘prime age group’, we were surely it.
Naturally, we all had the immediate immature reaction to the notion that his name was ‘gooch’. Laugh now, then continue.
Mr Gooch began by explaining to us the importance of learning two sides of an argument before we form an opinion, an ironic statement from a one-sided ‘debate’ in a ‘religious’ school. The idea of abortion had not yet been mentioned; I found the beginning section of the PowerPoint dull and pointless. I think we were expecting a little bit more of a song-and-dance (albeit a preachy one) and a touch more finesse from the organisation, I was a little disappointed with the mind-numbing presentation.
I have a passion for all things political and all thing women, and it would appear that Mr Gooch clearly doesn’t. I’m not making this a personal attack, I too would be terrified of standing in front of a crowd delivering a presentation that people are looking to find fault in. However, Gooch’s pussy-footing around the subject was both irritating and actually a little demeaning. One of my personal highlights was when he showed us a newspaper article from his ‘old school’ (Oxford), the article was on something Pro-Life related. This led to him explain that ‘couples’ never say ‘we’re having a fetus!’ – But I ask you now, who says ‘we’re aborting our baby’ Mr Gooch? I assume Mr Gooch clearly hadn’t researched the two sides of his argument.
But then the presentation got interesting. We were told a story about a 28 year old girl who wanted a car seat but was offered an abortion from Planned Parenthood in the US. We weren’t told about the women that Planned Parenthood had helped in other ways, we just had the idea of PP being a sadistic abortion mill and little else thrust upon us. Gooch then explained how there were 198,500 abortions performed in 2007. Cool. Then we were told that told that 90% of disabled children are aborted. A highly emotive statement to use, the one-sided debate prevails again.  The obvious assault factor wasn’t mentioned, neither the mother’s mental health nor her own physical health.
So, we were then instructed to sit in groups and discuss what we had witnessed. But there was no passionate debate, no sudden backlash from the crowd... To be honest, we were all incredibly bored and Mr Gooch is not a charismatic character. We were all given a pack on the presentation, an argument offered in the pamphlet was that abortion is detrimental to a women’s mental and physical health. There were no statistics offered, no concrete evidence. I looked to our specialist in the subject – Gooch – to hear some cold, hard facts, asking him how an abortion mentally damages a women; I think I was expecting a response full of real zeal. Of course, Gooch had no statistics and just looked uncomfortable.
The question and answer section was by far the best bit – each question for Gooch was responded by squirming and skirting round subjects. A certain lack of assertion was missing; Gooch claimed that an abortion after a rape could sort of be okay because it’s sort of a bad situation to be in and it’s sort of something that those who haven’t been through a rape then a pregnancy scare can’t even try to envisage nor assume an opinion – sort of. Gooch gave a (albeit fuzzy) pro-choice answer.
In stark contrast to what I was expecting, ‘Life’ had organised a debate that wasn’t a debate and a presentation that lacked any kind of enthusiasm – apart from a few controversial statistics. I left the hall with a numb bum and a clearer sense of my personal belief, they had assured me that it was indeed my choice; all I had been taught in the 2 hours was that it was ‘my life’ at the end of the day, and not theirs.