The tug

It’s that momentum which leans you into a kiss. It’s the electricity that buzzes around you. It’s that overall feeling of wanting to be as close as humanely possible to them.

The tug. It’s a powerful and addictive thing.

But is it essential at the start?

Do you learn to be more realistic and pragmatic about meeting somebody the older you get? Or is this a symptom that only the most common-sense rational being adopts to relationships?

There are two schools of thought here I have gleaned from my ‘market research’.

The first being that the tug is not necessary at the beginning stages but can evolve as a result of getting to know someone more intimately.

The other school suggests that the tug is compulsory right from the start. If it’s not there, it won’t ever arise – no matter what efforts of positive thinking go into the mix.

Oh my god this is tricky. And I doubt that Phil or Oprah can assist.

I won't be converted

Richard Gere and Julia Roberts have a lot to answer for.

When Pretty Woman came out you could hear a collective sigh from women worldwide. It was completely unrealistic and disturbingly dark but yet so, so, so romantic.

A modern day fairytale that led all women to believe a man was possible of change and grand declarations of love.

It also meant relief – a Richard Gere for every woman just around the corner. Even if he did spot you on said corner wearing your finest Sunday track-pants, he would see something special and stop that limousine.

And for someone like me, this all-time classic was a glowing affirmation to remain the ‘die-hard romantic’ in the face of those trying to inflict the harsh realities of love in practice.

I can’t count the amount of times people have tried to convert me. Their exasperation clings to me like the sweet, fruity odour of a nearby alcoholic on a long tube ride. And their frustration just as palpable as a 15 minute tube delay on a Friday night home.

It’s not stubbornness calling. It’s just that I don’t want to change. I like fairytales. And really, I can’t see the harm in that.

After all, I am not hurting anyone. And I’m definitely not hitchhiking onto another popular rom-com and transforming into a forlorn, chain-smoking Bridget at home. I’m just getting on with it.

You see, for die-hard romantics like myself, we know it will be well worth the wait. So while you’re all getting impatient with the delay or choice of ride – we’re sitting back taking in the view.

Why there’s an age limit to being the party drunk…

I have one friend, and I bet some of you do too, that’s always going to end a night in one of two ways: passed out or out for a good fight. The latter usually doesn’t involve punches, although she’s been known to take a good swipe – no it’s usually an excruciating debate she delights in. It’s painful to be an audience member.

At first, I admired her confidence to throw caution to the wind and literally throw it all out there. But now, the older I get the more of a liability she becomes. Let’s face it a dinner party with a party drunk always ends up being a messy affair. Dessert takes on a whole new meaning and the after-taste is always bittersweet.

Why is it that most of us grow out of it while some still revel in it?

And are those of us who know better – that take ourselves off to bed when the inevitable effects of wine kick in – just being a tad judgemental?

Do you reach an age where it’s unacceptable to be so uncontrollable when it comes to drinking?

When most of our social lives involve the most affordable social lubricant, being alcohol, it does put those who don’t know when to stop in a tricky spot.

Also, the concept of social drinking moves into a different realm the older you get. It ain’t so much about a pack of cards and tequila shots, but good food and fine wine. The emphasis changes from getting hammered to just having a good time.

So are they the way they are, because nobody told them about the ‘shift’? And what right do I have to look down my nose at them when they’re losing it?

Is it actually really more about me deciding that there IS an age limit to being the party drunk than their decision to keep on drinking that’s the problem?

When you move on, and others don’t there’s always going to be more than a wine hiccup to deal with. It does make for an uncomfortable morning after.

Is the trophy cabinet empty?

I love waiting for the next ‘in flavour’ topic the media jump on. And recently the fashionable topic for winning column inches is the end of the trophy wife.

But I am not buying it.

The trophy wife is like killer stilettos to fashion. They’re here to stay no matter how impractical they can be on a night out – because they make you look good.

Yes, stiletto shoes and trophy wives can hurt but they also get results. Men still appreciate them. They might be high maintenance but sometimes they’re impossible to resist.

More recently a different variation of the trophy wife has come to the fore making it even more popular – it’s the WAG. She knows she has to look good and then the rest is easy streets. Hell, we’re even making reality TV programs around this new, more ambitious version.

I don’t dispute that there are more men seeking the less shallow option in striving for marital bliss. And that there are more women out there happy to fit the bill and let their brains lead rather than their booty – I am one of them.

But to suggest that the days of a woman being solely desired because of how she looks and what benefit it has for a man to have this aesthetic accessory are over is perhaps a tad unrealistic in the real world.

For a lot of young men being confronted with the spirit of a young woman and their independence is daunting. More than daunting in fact, it has led them to question their role in what they can bring to a relationship.

On more than one occasion, I have had a man ask what can they provide me if I seem to have it all. In a strange way it is like trying to figure out what to buy someone who has everything. What value can your present give them when they’ve gone out and got it all themselves?

But that’s when I go out and put a little heart into it. I buy them something that they’ve never even thought of and because it has come from me it has a special meaning.

If only all men could think along the same lines. That’s when I think the day of the trophy wife will be well and truly over.

So until then, some men will go for the easy option and choose a wife that looks good and can be cared for. She will adore him – even if it is just his wallet.

But to give credit where credit is due – the column inches are well worth it. If only for the fact that it highlights we are heading in the right direction.

Long hair and handkerchiefs

My nan for most of her life had long hair and a handkerchief in her bag at all times. She wasn’t Audrey but she was a lady – there was no question about that.

Cooking, knitting and the art of being a good hostess were areas undoubtedly she reigned supreme over. Oh yeah, she was also a mean bowler!

In my time, the feminist wave kicked in where these finer skills weren’t always looked upon with the same regard in her day. What a shame. Because I learnt far more from my nan about being a woman than Naomi Wolf could ever teach me.

My nan taught me there is no shame in standing by your man. Even better she stuck by him when sometimes his argument had a few leaky holes.

She also showed me that a cheeky wit can take you a lot further than a feisty tongue. Your point will always have a lot more resonance if it’s delivered under the veil of humour and insight.

And leading by example (moving to the other side of the world), she fostered an adventurous spirit in me. So just like they say: behind every good man is a good woman – behind every strong, independent woman there’s a generation of women behind her that have compassionately paved the way.

For that, I owe my nan. So this is not about her going, it is about promising to live up to the potential she saw in all of us.

Oh, and please indulge her and carry a handkerchief with you wherever you go.