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Yes, I’ve already talked about this, but wait, there’s more! Not only does the social activity of shopping strike me as a total waste of time, money and upper arm strength; it’s also the one thing you should avoid if you consider yourself to be even half as ethically aware as Cher Horowitz. First of all, none of us should be buying anything on the high street right now. I don’t know when not wanting to wear shit that was made in sweatshops went out of fashion, but come on, it’s pretty simple: companies that don’t pay tax and make clothes out of babies' fingernails = bad.
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Another strangely mandatory activity, even after the stale smell of the school locker rooms has faded to just a distant memory, is the forensic, girl-2-girl analysis of text messages. Every time I fail to give a shit about what smiley face a boy has used (or has failed to use) in his texts, I'm made to feel like a bad friend. Why? How much thought do you think went into that tossed off communique? You're not dealing with Gore Vidal here, you're dealing with somebody who probably still buys all their clothes in the adolescent section of H&M.And that's not me saying: “Go to a museum already, you dumb fucks,” because I too am lazy and have the attention span of a social climbing sociopath at an Illuminati orgy. I’m just saying get a fucking grip, talking for two hours on the phone about the colour some guy's AIM conversation bubbles are is not going to strengthen your friendship half as much as a gin and tonic would.
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If you are a criminal on the run, a spy or have ever seen the little-known cult classic film Grease, chances are you will be well versed in the language of the makeover. Domain of the teenage girl, these exercises in identity crisis are commonplace among those young ladies who wish to be picked up from school an ugly duckling, and return the next morning a smoking hot babe.But by the time you reach adulthood, allowing somebody to choose your lipstick colour is just plain foolish, let alone giving them free reign to slash bangs into your hair that night every week when the two of you stay in and get drunk in the shower. Being a human that exists within (don’t flatter yourself) a relatively small social circle, chances are everybody knows what you look like already. The only thing a makeover’s going to do right now is alert your ex to the fact that the death of your relationship has made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. If a friend wants to do that, she's probably banging your ex.
Another classic modern-day bonding exercise is starvation, because the maple syrup and Cayenne pepper cleanse is much more palatable when there’s an emaciated weakling at the other end of your phone experiencing the same grating hunger pangs and mood swings as you are. Fun!But wait: maybe that's it. Maybe these things shouldn't be fun. Maybe the reason the established forms of female bonding more or less always suck is because they are humiliating hardships that we must endure together, before emerging from them stronger the other side? It's certainly the sort of thing that sounds like it could be a profound truth. But if that's the case, why don't any of my friends want to join me on my enema diet?All images are screen shots viaFollow Bertie on Twitter: @bertiebrandesPreviously: Which 'Made In Chelsea' Member Is the Biggest Feminist?Catch up on your Pretty Girl Bullshit here.