No, this is not a feminist rant. Nor is this a post about GRL PWR and cat calling (soz SJWs). I know – the pink palette and sassy sans serif might say otherwise.
But here I am. In front of my laptop. Attempting to explain a feeling to you. Because let’s be honest, I don’t really give style advice on here. I wear the things I like, I write about how I feel and I document what I observe.
So, the feeling yeah? Simple. Gratitude. Absolute fucking gratitude. Gratitude for the greatness that is connection, gratitude for the gorgeousness that is experience and gratitude for the gift that is a girl gang. I’ve always been the kind of girl to have a single best girl friend amongst a squad of bois. Boys are so chill compared with girls. Boys don’t skinner about you like girls do. You can always have a laugh with boys. Boys aren’t as needy as girls. Boys don’t drop you for boys. Blah blah bullshit-I-used-to-believe blah.
Now I’m not here to bash boy friendships because they’re great. But I am here to celebrate the beauty that is feminine friendship.
S/O to the girlfriends who share bathroom cubicles to chat bureaucracy. To the girls who book tickets for tech talks together and sign up for trail runs in tandem. To the girls who share nail polish and numeracy. And the babes who bless each other with books and beats for a birthday and celebrate rather than compete. To the and not or types of girlfriends – the ones who refuse to be boxed.
U da bes x
Photography: Ashiq J Photography
Bomber jacket: My Scattered Heart