The Rules of dating self-help books...

I took part in a gender and sexuality research group yesterday.  The theme was Love and I was presenting a paper on dating self-help books.

Part of my personal/research interests, outside of my PhD research, is female glossy magazines (I unashamedly love them, especially Marie Claire, Elle, Grazia and Glamour and if they have a freebie with them, even better!), how women are portrayed in these magazines and the 'singleton' culture.  It's not even particularly from a feminist point of view, it's just purely a question of, why?  I know, to some, snoooooore, but to me I find it interesting about what exactly is it that entices me to the glossy pages and pages of shoes I can't afford and clothes that would make me look like a novelty overstuffed condom or worse, time after time. I'm also taking exception to particular radio and TV adverts at the moment and the female voice overs they're using. But, anyway, back to self-help books.

Now, I don't like dating self-help books and I freely admit it.  I'm hugely cynical about them.  I find them patronising and in the case of The Rules just so goddamn bloody offensive to my 21st century lady thinking.  As I said in my paper yesterday, The Rules includes such trash as: 'Don't Talk to a Man First (and Don't Ask Him to Dance)', 'Don't Call Him and Rarely Return His Calls' and 'Don't Meet Him Halfway or Go Dutch on a Date' I find it quite honestly infuriating.  In this book there are 55 rules in total with a further 32 extra hints at the end. That's 87, yes 87!  If it takes 87 rules and handy hints for dating, seriously, I'm surprised any woman who reads this manages to get married or have any kind of quality relationship at all.  But I suppose, it is written and aimed at a particular kind of woman who is looking for a particular kind of man.  If that's what you like and need good luck to you but I say burn the bloody book and loosen up.  It is bilge.

My Google research threw up some depressing feedback and information on dating and self-help books, for example there is a book called, The Power of the Pussy, I kid you not and I'm guessing it's not for cat lovers...

I would say though, He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo is one I've read and really enjoyed reading.  Not for the dating advice particularly, but just for the humour.  It is a funny read.  I like Greg, he's funny and honest.  Check out Ask Greg, it's good.  Yes, his advice tends to boil down to the same thing, 'He's Just Not That Into You', but I believe what he's doing is giving women a bit of a shake to start trusting their own gut instincts again.  I mean, why do we go to these books in the first place if we don't trust our own judgment when it comes to working out whether a person is right for us.

Now, I am no dating expert at all, if anything I'm probably the last person who should be spouting on about these kind of things (and no, I still have not given shop boy my number before you ask, so yes, I am Miss Hypocrite of Southport), and I will admit, I do ask the advice of a (particular) man when it comes to men and dates, simply because I value his opinion and I know he will always be honest with me, but generally I do trust my own gut instincts.  I don't go to self-help books.

I say, ditch them, they're a load of old twaddle and start trusting yourself on these matters.  If someone is behaving like a dick, chances are....they're a dick and you're better off without them.  You're worth more than that and you know it.  I know, I've been there more times than I care to think about.

Let them eat cake...

With the advent of summer looming in the distance...very far in the distance, EHarmony are now advertising their services with smiley women who have shiny hair and perfect teeth, chatting away about how EHarmony is their spiritual twin. It just knows the perfect match for them and emails over the details of each potential partner picked to perfection, 'Who would want to be alone during the summer eh., not much fun walking along the beach looking at a beautiful sunset on your own is it?' is what they're saying if you read between the lines.

A friend asked me the other night if I'd tried EHarmony (I am currently single and have been for a while)...
Me: 'I can't afford to date.  If EHarmony were a supermarket it would be Waitrose, all ambient lighting and bespoke bread buns. I am like Lidl, stack it high and sell it cheap with unflattering strip lighting.'

But wait, maybe Samantha Brick has a point, if I were thinner I would be more successful at dating and have all the bespoke bread buns I could fit into my basket. No.  If I were to believe Samantha Brick's claims that being fat is actually a failure of life then I'd never leave the house.

I am fat. You can call it curvy, voluptuous, womanly or whatever, the truth of it is, I am overweight. I have a plentiful rump which is all bought and paid for courtesy of Cadbury's and I have a stomach which has never been flat nor never will be flat...apart from when I lie on my back and then my boobs drop under my armpits and I look like a partly deflated blow up doll with cellulite, only without the permanently shocked face.

I digress.

I read with interest Samantha Bricks' article in the Daily Mail the other day when she was waxing lyrical about how she sticks to 1000 calories a day and woe betide her if her husband sees the waistband of her skinny fit jeans digging in and the beginnings of a muffin top, all because she ate too many spuds with her Sunday dinner.  I'm sorry, but isn't that a) a bit sad; b) just wrong; and, c) sending women and the feminist movement hurtling back decades? Maybe it's because I'm a feminist that I find this abhorrent rubbish. I like being a woman and having the choice and freedom to eat what I like, when I like. When I say I'm a feminist it doesn't mean I'm going to chain myself to the front of the town hall or stand in front of the PCSO's bike (in the absence of a kings horse) for my right to eat slabs of battenberg. No, I am a feminist because I believe in women and the right for women to have the freedom of choice on how to live their lives and not have it dictated to them by a french man with a fear of muffin tops.

I don't class myself as a failure because I'm overweight, anything but. I am a success at what I do (and not just eating before you say anything!). I use my brain and in my book that makes me a damn sight more successful than whether I can squeeze myself into a 'bodycon' dress without looking like an over stuffed condom.

So I say, if you want to eat a box of chocolates watching Britain's Got Talent on a Saturday night after a hard week being you, then bloody do it.  That makes you a success story right there, not a failure.  Honestly, Samantha you're missing out here.

And as for dating, well what can I say. I may not be the EHarmony equivalent of a celebrity chef ready meal, I like to think I'm more successful as a Lidl tin of budget beans.  Men, please form an orderly queue.