We’re all familiar with that classic teen fiction scene where a parent walks in on their, pretty much always male, pride-and-joy pleasuring themselves.
I don’t know what ‘toner’ is or what it does, I don’t understand the significance of ‘exfoliation’, and I really don’t get what the deal is with those face-roller things made out of semi-precious stones.
“It’s like the virtual equivalent of making eye contact with someone you might know in public only for them to quickly avert their eyes and pretend like they didn’t see you … but they definitely did.”
“Whilst FOMO normally feels like a petty, fairly trivial anxiety – a vague sting of jealousy whenever we see other people having fun – this is a Fear Of Missing Out that goes way beyond that one party I didn’t go to.”
“Be thin, but also, don’t” seems to be the current paradox we are expected to fulfil through rigorous workout routines, snorting a line of kale for breakfast, and drinking blended green sludge (which, incidentally, will probably make you feel like you’re going to shit yourself – but that’s probably how you know it’s working).
“If Tinder were a place, it would be Fever. Specifically, Fever on a Tuesday night , a time when we almost certainly have better things to be doing with our time than dancing the night away to Akon remixed with S-Club 7, or idly swiping the night away from the comfort of your own bed.”
In the first of her weekly column, Alice Garnett explores whether Tinder really is the Land of Opportunity we might hope it to be.
Alice Garnett discusses how establishing a personal narrative of sex positivity is necessary, complex and deeply individual .