by thevagenda
My housemate moved out a couple of months ago. His departure made me so happy that I did a naked victory lap around the living room; and not just because of the half empty bottle of gin he left under his bed. He was a nice enough chap, but 90% of the reason I […]
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by thevagenda
Ladybros, I come with tidings of great sorrow. You have actually, definitely missed THE FANCY DRESS PARTY OF THE YEAR. No, it wasn’t a toddler’s tea party, a masked ball, or a bunch of hipsters wearing cat-face in Dalston. It was the wedding of Sam Branson (er, duh. The son of Sir Richard?) and […]
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by thevagenda
Women are ashamed of their bodies. You only have to open a women’s magazine to be told that. Just between a feature extolling the joys of the new Cellulite Busting Cream the even newer Detox Diet (which they assure us is different from last year’s version), nowadays there’ll also be a charming article […]
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by thevagenda
I’m hairy. I don’t mean my luscious long locks – though I have those in abundance – nor my perfectly natural pubes. I mean it in the sense that every now and again, and indeed, rather too frequently for my liking, I catch sight of myself in a mirror and think it’s really […]
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by thevagenda
When I read the op-ed piece Angelina Jolie wrote for the New York Times and I very quickly found myself struggling for breath, with eyes watering, feeling sick and unable to move. I think I may have had a mild panic attack. When I read Jeremy Clarkson’s Times column, in which he actually says the […]
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by thevagenda
I’m a woman and I like what I like when it comes to the party in my pants. And what I definitely don’t like is anal. In fact, since I lost my virginity to a certain MIC sleazeball at 15, I’ve done nothing but avoid bum-funnery at every opportunity. Now, I know […]
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by thevagenda
I’ve lived in London for just over two years, and have cycled here the entire time. I love my bike, which is currently a rusty old Puch with no gears and a broken seat. It’s kind of a piece of crap that I paid too much for, but it’s my piece of crap, and its […]
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by thevagenda
Being women, and therefore simple creatures, we are by our very nature fascinated by pretty things. This goes some way to explaining the prevalence of magazine articles which chronicle the outfits of the publication’s editorial team wear to work. After all, they’re like journalistic celebs, innit? We thought this trend had reached it’s logical (and […]
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by thevagenda
I met my ex-boyfriend at sixth form college. We sat opposite each other in History class, and we shared cans of Vimto during lectures on the Russian Revolution. One time, he got hauled out of class for surreptitiously eating a tupperware case of olives – yes, the most middle class of all acts […]
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by thevagenda
It wasn’t quite Romi and Michelle, but it was pretty bad There are many reasons why intelligent modern gals lapse into moments of insecurity about our bodies. Sometimes, and as much as I’m loath to admit it, it’s just down to that devious little sod PMS, which feels not unlike, as Jess from New Girl […]
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by thevagenda
Transvaginal. This was not a word that either existed in my vocabulary prior to having just such a scan, or that my GP thought to mention as she referred me for an ultrasound with a breezy, “I’m sure they won’t find anything, but it’s best just to check.” The reason for the referral […]
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by thevagenda
Last week was a corker of a week for the women’s mag posse. Obviously one would rather not prop them up financially with one’s hard-earned dollah, but the Archway Londis* was just too well-stocked for its own good, and I found myself half-gleefully half-grimly stockpiling the fuckers faster than you can say Samantha Brick. […]
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