I’ve just arrived back from visiting the magnificent city of Istanbul and while there, I tried to figure out how my personally treasured but rather pedestrian photos could be made interesting to a public of some sort. Most shots were binned, but the entire time I was walking around the Archaeological Museum I had the bitchy voice of a Cosmopolitan writer in my head, criticizing the fashion choices of the women and men of the Greek, Roman and various other empires. I say men and women but I clearly mean women because Cosmopolitan hates us just slightly more than we’re even supposed to hate ourselves, according to them. Roll up your leg hair, suck in that gut and welcome to a women’s magazine’s take on some old shit (liberally dotted with references to ’90s girl band TLC).
Coronation Street called and it wants its wig back. Girl, that hair is doing you zero favours. You’ve sent us letters in your thousands about your desperation at finding a man. This hair is why you’re at home on your own eating cheese slices straight out of the packet. Careful of that cellulite…
I said fix your fucking hair.
These stunners are straight-up TLC: Crazy, sexy and oh-so cool. Pink mantel? Check! Draped layers? Check! But where are their men? Probably out catching food for the whole gang for a cosy fireside picnic. #paleo
This deconstructed man just screams modern art genie Damian Hirst: Bold and brave. But there’s also a stunning fragility about his floating limbs as they’d lift you up and away from the sorrow of debating exactly how long your pubic hair should be to remain acceptable. Throw that rock away mister and wrap those guns around me any time!
Folds of luscious fabrics here to cover those sinful days when you forgot to shave! There’s no excuse girls so make sure next time you’ve got those legs ready to rock that mini-skirt. Shave or be single; the decision is yours…
A little extra room around the waist on this one for gassy, bloated menstrual days. Just make sure you clog it all up with expensive feminine hygiene products, then take all the painkillers God has graced the earth with and turn that frown upside down. Nobody gives a shit about your body being a wondrous reproductive machine, they just get grossed out by your blood and back pain so sort it out dummy!
We all know this one, am I right? You wake up on a Saturday morning after Friday drinks at the new job and all of a sudden: “Dude, where’s my arm?!” Don’t fret, your boss will more than likely respond to mild flirting and even suggestions of inappropriate behaviour so go right ahead and use those feminine wiles. #noshameinbeingawoman
Double denim? What WERE you thinking? Or is that a slashed denim jumpsuit… Whatever, you shouldn’t be fussy. He’s a man and he might want you so get those glad rags on and shimmy on over.
Stop the lights and call the Mayor, we have a winner! Cross body elegance from our headless friend shows you never have an excuse for saggy boobs. Had children? Who cares?! Get those girls pointing to the North Pole with this genius wrap. Also, has somebody asked Diane Von Furstenburg where she got her inspiration from? Seems suspicious to me… #notcallingyoualiar
Hand on hip: Ladies, he’s not afraid of his feelings. What a total #joy.
Partridge penis and bull saliva are the only things you need to give your man a VERY happy Christmas! #tesco
And finally ladies, the dream. Your robed man, handing you a declaration of his love despite your hairy, covered-up legs. Note the midriff action (can we all thank TLC one more time?).