For dinner tonight I’m making my boo delicious fish. ‘Defishous’, I’m calling it. It involves some mashed potato, some, on the turn, broccoli and some defrosted peppered smoked mackerel. Defishous. You see, when you’ve got a top boo, those are the levels you need to achieve to keep it popping. I mean, not all babies deserve the primo-service. I went out with a right ogre once. A giantess, she was. Hairy as a nutsack, always shouting and swearing. After we spilt up, I heard she got pregnant. She was offered paternity leave.
For those on the struggle finding a mate, worry not, there’s hope. Out there, right now, there’s a shitpile of lucky ladies just looking to meet a bro with a detailed knowledge of the Post Overalls product range. Your problem is not finding a boo, but whittling down the quadrazillion potentials to find the right one.
Check the following wiseness and AVOID chicholinas busting the following garms. I don’t mean to be superficial or nothing. But remove them from your search, immediately. Trust, brah. I’m doing you a service here.
These are just downright done. I’m not about fads, but seriously, enough with the leggings. They looked old two or three years ago, but babies be still rocking ’em under skirts and with heels like Madonnabes. Only M&S and Primark still sell these fuckers surely. Ladies – don’t get stuck in a fashion rut. Brahs – it ain’t 2010, you’re better than this.
2) Mainstream designer handbags – FAKE
Baby be on the tube in a cheap bobbly knit, some Gap elasto-jeans and some struggle Nikes and we’re expected to believe she’s dropped 18k on a Louis V bag? Cha, right. Rip-off bags are not even copies of anything interesting, just the most mainstream of mainstream styles, the massest of mass-market looks, the shit the real brands discount in airport lounges. Babies swinging these gaudy imitations are imitations of each other. Imitations of shit they’ve seen on X-Factor, imitations of shit they’ve seen on TMZ, imitations of anything that’s not them. After all, deep down, they don’t know what they actually like. And they’re okay with that. Steer clear bro.
3) Mainstream designer handbags – REAL
Same as above but with daddy’s money.
4) White watches
I have no idea who decided that these were a thing. But I guess, if you want it to look like your family jeweller is Elizabeth Duke. Is it a hip-hop thing? Is anyone supposed to think those bits of glass are diamonds? Fuck knows. The only place these things are appropriate is a documentary about gypsies getting married. Or divorced. Or fighting. Whatever.
5) Wooden shoes
Now I try to be a dude who don’t give too many fucks. But these things… I don’t care whether it’s cork, wicker, oak, fucking bamboo or refurbished teak, these elevated wedge/platform things are a saucer of piss. Women of all scales and dimensions, stick their feet in these. Then you see them staggering around provincial towns, cackling till Watermelon Breezer fires out their nose, flashing their mammoth grey tits and fingering doner meat into their shriekhole, while crying. Dude, you see a hot baby in these during the day… Just know, she’s a four pack of Crabbies Black Cherry away from spewing on your McNairy Derbys and trying to pop her thumb in your ass.
6) Ballet pumps
This girl’s living in the past. Blah, blah, yeah, they’re a classic. Blah, blah, yeah, Audrey Hepburn. I got news baby, you ain’t her. I don’t want to hear your, “but they’re so comfy”s. They’re over and done and done and over. I’ll put it real simple. They. Are. Not. In. Fashion. Anymore. Sorry and that. But they’re not. Everyone knows. Seriously. Everyone else knows.
7) Maxi dresses
It is not an ironic Margot from The Good Life statement. What do you mean, “what’s The Good Life”? Yes. Fucking yes. ThatswhatImfuckingsayin.
You often get gals wearing these horrors with the aforementioned wooden shoes, creating a 1970s pastiche that makes me want to sick up my spaghetti hoops and battenberg. Do girls feel all, ‘ladylike’ and shit swagging around like they’re gonna crash Abigail’s Party? Thing is, these things suit no one. NO ONE, looks good in them. Except maybe Jennifer Lopez. Once. Around the late 90s. Dudes, this is not the girl for you.
8) Longchamp shoppers
These things are everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t move in central London for identically uninspired women carrying these. It’s so achingly polite. This thing was mainstream before there was even a stream to be main in. Goddddddd… it’s so dull, I’m getting maudlin just looking at it. The women that carry this think about work, live work, love work, are work. In the evenings and weekends. It’s work, work and work again. “I’ve got to just do a bit of work… I’m just going to have a look at my work, just give me a sec, just got to do some work.” Work, work, work, work, worky, worky, work, work. When they close their eyes in bed, they see a disco of Excel docs, trying it on with the fourth quarter figures. Girls, if you own one of these, throw it on a bonfire.
9) Padded coats, with a belt
Basically, if your prospective boo is busting one of these horrors, look to her right. Now look to her left. See her mum standing there, wearing one of these too. See her best mate and her other best mate and that other girl with the big teeth and the tall lass with the ponytail, see how they are all wearing basically the same coat. Walk away now.
10) Wide elastic belts
These are frilly right. But I’m talking about ANY thick, elasticated belt. You’ve seen them, with bows on, with hearts on, with fucking butterflies on. These are the preserve of girls who talk like babies. You know, all high octave, saccharine bullshit. Pouting away, like some cartoon gobble-gobble fish. “Oh little me, could the big muscley man help me with these boxes”? No, bog off. Undo that ridiculous dragonfly waistband and you’d stand a chance of bending over and picking them up yourself.