Sunday 6 November 2011

Sweet Sixteen- in Retrospect

Recently I read an interesting piece in a magazine, where a couple of celebrities were asked to write a letter to their sixteen-year-old selves. It was an imaginary opportunity to forewarn their own adolescent selves of any upcoming tragedies, bad fashion choices, and dire relationships. I thought this was a fabulous idea so I thought I would try it myself.

Dear Emma,

Don't worry. Someone will very soon invent something called The Straightening Iron and it will signal an end to trying to control your unflatteringly wavy fringe. Soon, the days of tying your fringe up into a pineapple to wash your face the night before, then accidentally sleeping with the hair bobble still in place, and waking up with what can only be described as Hair Hard On will be miles and miles behind you. A big relief, I know! Although what you gain in 'mirror shine', you will also gain in split ends. And a mild case of trichotillomania.

I recently found the diary you kept when you were fourteen, and my God, you were a miserable and neurotic bitch. And now as a sixteen year old you are even worse. But despair not, you do cheer up in the beginning, and your Adrian Mole outlook on life will soon give way to something marginally sunnier. You will lose some of your arrogance, lose some of your spots, and gain an ample bosom ( I know you'll be very happy about this!) but that's a few years in the future.

You will also meet the man that you will marry, in two years time. Shortly after you get married, two things will happen to you, and I don't want to scare you, but they will be quite painful. I won't ruin the surprise and tell you what they are, but as they were an unexpected occurrence to me, it's only fair that you have to wait and see.

A couple of pieces of advice to help see you on your way to Womanhood (shudder!): First of all, a sticky little rock club called Rock City will play a major part in your life from the age of 17 onwards, for a couple of very intense years. The first time you get invited to this haven of flat lager and £1 shots, TAKE SOME I.D. Any type, fake or otherwise. This will save you the very embarrassing task of ringing Dad and begging him to come get you because you didn't get in. You will also discover boys here. They are a messy, painful, awkward yet vital part of your growing up. Enjoy them for what they are: sweaty, silly and gropey, but don't take anything relating to them too seriously.

Another piece of advice- don't bother with marijuana. You may think it is cool and naughty, but you are a twat when you are stoned. Paranoid to the point of believing that the police are spying on you through a YALE LOCK. Just don't bother. The worry of being caught with it far outweighs any benefit you might have got from it.

Finally, you will fall in love all the time, be it romantically or platonically. This doesn't change when you get to my age. You will give and give in all kinds of relationships, but very few people will be able to match your enthusiasm, and you will end up feeling hurt. You need to learn to chill out, cool down- it will make it infinitely easier for you in the years to come.

So there you go. From me to you, hopefully helping you on your way to adulthood. Obviously way more stuff happens as well, but as a teenager, I know you have a minuscule attention span, so I'm not pushing it.

Chin up, beautiful, Em xxx

P.S. 36 C!!!!

1 comment:

GeneralMarshall said...

What a fabulous letter!

I remember well the Rock City event and still carry the guilt of the no-ID fiasco...and now we long to be ID'd.