Now from time to time, newspaper articles catch my eye. I’d not even cottoned on to the whole Samantha Brick thing even though I was aware of it floating around the ether. She’s a kind of non-entity journalist who sometimes writes features for newspapers. I don’t want to call her a journalist on account of the fact she doesn’t seem to do much but fluff pieces and it’s offensive to my real journalist friends who really write to call her a journalist. She’d written an article for the Daily Mail (who I now refuse to call the Daily Fail on account of they seem to do extraordinarily well at getting people to visit their site) about how women hate her because she’s beautiful.
It was a non-starter of an article.
Then she was on Good Morning – a kind of magazine-style programme in the UK – and something else caught my eye. Besides the fact she’s kind of ordinary and she has what I’ll call ‘British teeth’ and have done.
It was the fact that my bezzie from high school was sitting besides her. This is not news to me. Emma Kenny has been a regular television feature for the last five years or so and makes regular appearances.
I was wondering what Emma’s stance would be. For one, she’s pretty. I wondered if she thought women hate her because she’s pretty. I’d like to clarify, she’s always been prettier than me. Well, mostly. I know her too well to say ‘always’ because I’ve seen her with a very heavy cold and I’ve also seen her after a jog. Me done up compared to her after a jog, I’d hold my own. Maybe.
You can see it here.
Now Emma doesn’t exactly trash her, and neither does Ruth, or even Eamonn, but you can see they find it a bit amusing. Mrs Brick isn’t really all that. And to be honest, with the 10 minutes of this I’ve seen, I’d have to concur that a) Mrs Brick is pretty arrogant and b) she’s quite deluded and c) these two things might – might! – mean that women tend not to like her very much.
Emma does look like she’s been air-brushed. She’s amazingly beautiful. She’s also very individual and has her own hang-ups.
It did make me laugh over what Samantha Brick thinks qualify as things that mean she’s attractive.
1. Men buy her champagne.
Now, I have a confession. A couple of years ago, I went on holiday with three lovely ladies, Dottie, Anne and Wendy. We went to Spain. Not a one of us is a real looker, though I love these ladies very, very dearly. Mostly, we make our own entertainment. One particular night, we were discussing opening a ‘house of corrections’ for men who would pay for discipline. Dot is a widow in her fifties. She was going to be a dominatrix. Anne is a divorcée in her forties. She was going to be Madame something-or-other. Wendy was going to run the school room, I think. Essentially, we had a whole scenario going. We were in a world of our own, howling with laughter, crying with the thought of this dominatrix parlour. And a Belgian man (he might have had a wife too!) sent over a bottle of champagne. He said we deserved it because we’d entertained him and his missus so very thoroughly.
Now we are all wonderful women, but what makes us amazing is how we laughed and how at ease we are with ourselves. And yes, I’ve had champagne. I’ve had men thrust numbers in my hand – again when I was out with a friend and we were in a world of our own. From time to time, I’ve come across mean women. But I don’t think they were jealous of me. Mostly, they were just mean. I’ve come across mean men, too. Sometimes, people are mean.
But if you’re a nice person, even mean people might be nice to you, even if you’re pretty. Mostly, people are nice to me and it’s mainly because I’m nice to them, I think. It’s not because I’m ugly.
2. She’s never been a bridesmaid.
I’ve been a bridesmaid. Does this mean I’m ugly too? But then Jo and Ruth, who are two of the most gorgeous women I know have been bridesmaids. Does this mean they’re ugly? Or does it just mean they have female friends or sisters or people who value making them part of a big day?
3. She got free champagne on the plane.
I had free peanuts once.
4. She thinks anyone who is mean to her is mean because she’s beautiful. It’s a great, delusional belief, because how do you disprove it? People dislike me – I’m pretty – they dislike me because I’m pretty. It’s not a very logical assumption.
Sometimes, people dislike me – I’m from Manchester. People dislike me because I’m from Manchester. Also illogical. There aren’t many people I dislike because of where they’re from. To be honest, the scouse accent drives me mental, but only the plastic scouser version, and more to do with the type of ‘racaille’ who puts on that voice rather than the real scouse tones of someone funny and scouse, like John Bishop. Although, it is true I sometimes like people because of where they’re from. I usually automatically like people from the North East of England. Having said that, I can’t stand Michelle ‘chicken stu’ Bass and I don’t like her voice either.
I eat cauliflower. People dislike me. They dislike me because I eat cauliflower. It just makes no sense, this kind of thinking.
As you can see, I find all of her ideas rubbish.
And I totally agree with Emma. I would. She took me to Leicester to stay with her sister and we had a cool time.
But I think of the women I know, and mostly they’re beautiful because they’re fabulous and modest and wonderful and dedicated and loyal and trustworthy and honest. Not because they look like Kate Middleton.
In fact, Kate Middleton is a case in hand. Fairly ordinary with some good stylists, make up artists and a hairdresser. But she’s beautiful – definitely holds her own against those considered beautiful by the fashion industry or the movie industry. And the most beautiful women I know are utterly radiant. They almost sparkle. Yet, on paper, they are ‘ordinary’. Whatever beauty is, it’s not what Samantha Brick is. And it’s definitely what Emma and Ruth, the presenter, have.
But I think of the girls I went to school with – fabulous women who live in New Zealand, Dubai, France, the USA, Canada, or those who’ve stayed nearer to home. Artists, architects, lawyers, television presenters, daytime television bosses, actresses, singers – and, more importantly, amazing at whatever they do, whether they are mums, wives, sisters or daughters. Some of these women are absolutely stunning looking – some having grown out of puppy fat and glasses for the full Pygmalion experience. Some of us are quirky and a bit weird looking. But mostly, we’re very, very fabulous and I feel lucky to count myself among them. Emma Kenny is only one example of how fabulous and confident we are. And all of us are beautiful – not a mealy-mouthed, bitter, nasty sourpuss among us – no matter what has happened.
And looking at Samantha Brick on that couch with all of her pathetic reasons for what happens to the beautiful, well, sweetie, they happen to ordinary women too. They happen because a truly beautiful woman is confident, not arrogant, is unaware of just how beautiful she really is, not telling people she’s beautiful when in reality, she’s really rather ordinary. And the most beautiful women hide scars of all sorts, big scars and big hurts and big hang-ups. There were two beautiful women in that studio, and she wasn’t one of them.
A very wise man once said to me: “Do you expect everyone to like you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Do you like everybody?”
“No,” beginning to get his point and smiling.
He didn’t need to say any more. Sometimes people don’t like other people. There are things that press their buttons and set them off. I have a button that gets pressed every time I see a manipulative woman doing the ‘I’m so helpless and hurt, I can’t live without you’ act to a man. I find it difficult to get beyond this and wonder why she’s doing it. Unfortunately, it’s very effective at getting men to do what you want and I find it difficult to excuse any ugly behaviour where a woman lies about personal tragedy such as rape or cancer just to get a man to love her. That’s possibly my only button and I find it very ugly behaviour indeed, especially when I know of many fine, fine women touched by these sadnesses who appear to sail over it like a swan, all the panic and sadness and tears and anger beneath the surface. I don’t like these women. They might be pretty – ironically, they often are – but I don’t dislike them because they’re prettier than me or thinner than me or younger than me – it’s nothing that superficial. I dislike them because they’re just ugly people and because I’m of the ‘get over it!’ mentality, knowing that millions of people survive terrible, terrible events without turning all nasty and bitter inside. Indeed, it usually makes them more beautiful, if anything.
Lucky for me, I’m surrounded by women who are truly amazing, utterly beautiful and absolutely wonderful. That’s years of considered collection going on, but also the joy of knowing MOST women are like this. And most men too.