Pretty in Pink?

October 2003
Feeling the pinch...

THE LADETTE culture is something I have never really been able to get my head around.For the past few years, we women have been told that it's cool, trendy and with it to hang up our handbags, forsake our heels and swap our cold glasses of Chardonnay for a couple of pints, a packet of fags and the ability to fart and burp as loud as any man.

I have always been somewhat of a girlie girl. Pink was my favourite colour. Sindy and Barbie were my favourite childhood toys and wherever possible from the age of about 18 onwards shoes had to have a regulation heel height of at least two inches in height, preferably more.If a shoe seemed impossibly high, terribly uncomfortable but had the virtue of making my ankles look slim and sexy then I would gladly forsake the comfort of trainers.

I'll admit to also being one of those woman who cosmetic companies dream about. Change the packaging of a luscious lipstick, tell me a cream will keep away fine lines and wrinkles or add glitter to anything (bath bombs, body rubs, moisturisers, lipsticks, eye shadows, hair gel....) and I'm sold. One of my favourite past times has always been to wander around Boots or Superdrug checking out the latest shade in eye shadow, the latest perfumes, and the latest in sumptuous bath treats guaranteed to make a nightly soak a luxurious treat to be savoured.That is one of the great joys of being a woman, and Lord knows there aren't that many. We can pamper ourselves without feeling guilty and a relaxing soak in the bath is considered more of a necessity to our beauty regime than a quick wash to clear the dirt and grime of the day.

If it's fluffy, silky, glittery or shiny then I'm your gal. Think Charlotte from Sex and the City, think Cat Deeley, think Miss Piggy if you want, but in my opinion a woman should be (budget, wardrobe and having decent shops in your home town permitting) feminine.Maybe I'm hopelessly old fashioned, but women drinking pints (I know they are cheaper), do not look very elegant. Women smoking like trains, roaring and shouting and generally, as my granny would say, making a show of themselves are embarrassing to us all. And women who turn away from the joys of shoe shopping obviously have some part of their brain missing!

I have frequently said that a drunk woman is one of the most unappealing creatures in the world. Not that, in my pre-pregnancy state, I didn't enjoy a drink or two myself, but for the most part I managed to avoid being loud, annoying and never once did I throw up in public.Some exponents of the ladette culture would no doubt argue that I was letting the side down, and all these years have been conforming to male ideals of what women should be like.I, on the other hand, would simply argue that I had more pride in myself than to willingly make a complete gawk of myself in public.

I have always been aware that while I may be able to drink so much that I fail to remember what I did the night before, most of the rest of the world will wake up the next morning with their memory of any shameful behaviour. Wall flowersI'm not saying we should all be gentle little wall flowers who bow and curtsy, sip sherry from those dinky little glasses Emily Bishop likes or make sure our skirts always reach to our knees at the very least, but there is something about the modern ladette culture that I just don't like.Certainly we women should be seen and heard but do we really want the world to see us as loud, hard drinking, ballsy creatures who you wouldn't want to run into on a dark night.Surely we don't have to drink as hard as men, or dress like them for the world to accept that we are their equals? In fact, I would argue that in many cases we are their superiors. No woman would ever have dreamt up the comb-over or would contemplate leaving the house in the morning without a spray of deodorant (certain taxi drivers in this city should take note!).

I just think men should be men, and women should be women. You can be just as strong and confident in a pair of Faith stilettos, as you can in combat trousers with a masculine crew cut.Perhaps I'm just feeling the pinch more as the months progress and the notion of pointy shoes, figure hugging clothes and a night out with that cold glass of chardonnay become a a dim and distant memory, replaced by sensible (boring) shoes, voluminous clothes and that haggard look that only pregnant women and Derry taxi drivers at the end of a Friday night shift seem to be able to carry off.How I long to take my purple boots out of storage, and put my jeans on again. I would love to follow the style lead of the Sex and the City girls, but sadly that funky retro 80s or 20s look just does not translate well into maternity wear.As the shops fill with glamorous, sparkly, glittery clothes for autumn and winter, I have found myself staring with open mouthed jealousy thinking that if I even dared to dress myself in something like that I would look more like a Christmas bauble than Cat Deeley.

So instead, I implore you, the women of the North West, to dress up, curl your hair and buy the highest most impractical but stunningly beautiful shoes you can find and, in my name, for the next four months at least, remember that you are ladies.