The red white and blue of the Diamond Jubilee is over and the international rainbow of the Olympics are round the corner, but summer of 2012 is all about the battle of a couple of other colour palates- that of the neon and the grey.
T’is (allegedly) the season to dress skimpy. The clothes shops are jam-packed full of gaudy blinding pre-school paint-play nightmares. No woman I know can confidently pull them off in their head, never mind in reality. Only a teenager can feel sexy in a luminous yellow with the sides cut out to emphasise the love handles. If the frequent statistics spewed out by intellectual giant of morning tv Daybreak are to be believed we are a nation of big fat biffers. Who wants to see a biffer in a stretchy fake lace bodycon? The average UK lady will not feel sexy in stretchy bright fake lace. They feel skinny in black. And sexy in grey.
And here lies the other colour de jour- the grey.
From tube trains to tea rooms, buses to park benches, women throughout the land are sucking up 50 Shades of Grey like the literary equivalent of meow meow. They are twitching in their seats and tweeting on their phones, sex is back and this time it’s bondage!
If you haven’t read it, this is what happens. Young girl pulls millionaire who wears a tie, whose trousers hang ‘that way’ (what, like down, with gravity?) and who likes to tie her up with cable ties listening to Now That’s What I Call Gregorian Chants 2012. Oh, and they have some sex.
At this point I must admit I have read it. Look, it was £2.49 on Kindle. I was raised on an adolescent diet of Jilly Cooper and Jackie Collins- I can read trash. I’m not the only one to have read it, you judgers out there. As of last week it had overtaken Dan Brown in the big massive sales of toot worldwide categories.
I blame the Kindle for the sales. If no one can see the cover of your book, no one can see your shame. While it has brought ‘mummy-porn’ to the autoque of News At Ten, and openness regarding sexytimes can only be a good thing , there is one thing that people are not talking about – it is really, really badly written. My god, it is terrible.
Modern women are often juggling long working hours, and kids, and Tescos, and Weight Watchers, and wine, and feeling guilty about not going to the gym. Half of them don’t have the energy for sex, never mind nipping down to B&Q beforehand to prepare for it. Most women I know don’t have matching undies never mind bondage gear. Mr Lazycreative accused me of wearing matching underwear recently. I had to point out that although both pieces were black, they were far from matching.
Reading is a wonderful thing. So is sex. Both if which need to be good though. Now where’s my cable ties….