Unlike my usual blog posts, I am posting a column I wrote for uni project. Let me know what you think.
Why can’t money buy...
The perfect man?
The novelty of being single is most certainly wearing off. Three years of not-so-great dates (sometimes even soul shattering) and more notches on my bed post than I care to admit. I’m starting to think it’s me –kidding, it’s never us ladies.
The month of September, as the bitter air bites my cheeks, I decide a boyfriend would be nice this winter (if all fails maybe a new addition to my Christmas list). I’m not talking about any average guy, I’m talking about the perfect man. And I blame Disney for this. From childhood, the fairytale romance was implanted in our minds. Where handsome Prince Charming kisses the princess breaking the terrible spell and carries her off into the sunset. Translation. A 6ft2 gorgeous man, wines and dines us out of our normal lives and drives off into the sunset in a white Ferrari with 750 horse power.
I AM asking for that earth moving romance what Adele warbles on about. I am also expecting to re-live the scenes of The Notebook. I want real romance. When did it become acceptable for a first date to entail “chilling at mine with a bottle of (value) vodka?” – yes this really happened. I’m not wasting my time shaving my legs for that.
In a world where designer vaginas can be purchased when yours is old and saggy, a hundred ton metal bird can soar our skies and the cloning of Dolly the sheep (and even extinct animals) is possible, then why can’t I buy my perfect man?
I’m waiting for the day when Selfridges clears out old stock for it’s latest fad, more popular than the shoe gallery. THE MAN LAB. Lines of men in every shape, size and colour you can imagine. Different styles for every occasion. And when this one no longer meets my needs, I’ll purchase another or return my man within 14 days for a full refund. Now wouldn’t that be perfect?