Oxford dictionary definition of frenemy: friend and enemy. Y’ know, those things or people that you can’t live with, can’t live without. Those things/people you’re actually a bit addicted to but aren’t really doing you any favours.
The science part is over, let’s explore a sample of my current top 10 frenemies:
- Tights – Tugged on in a last minute frenzy (squeeze those bobbly prickly sausages into their skins). Pulled from a squally black 40-60 denier mess, half sorted into: baggy ankles, bobbly round the knees from the KHB’s, saggy crotch, small hole on big toe just big enough for 2/3rds of toe to protrude through for an 11 hour day. But, beloved wallpaper hosiery you are vital to our dignity and sartorial sanity. #hairylegsandnoonecansee
- Touche éclat – The overuse is bordering on abuse. No longer do you simply circle my under eyes, you’re now daubed like a Van Gough over all the miniscule broken thread veins or feint scarring from sins of past (over-squeezing of imaginary spots). You are all we need. Please learn to multiply to save us from the horror of … the.last.click. What would happen if we ever went out without you?
- Prosecco – You bloody gorgeous old git. Fresh in summer, exciting in the winter. Celebratory all year round. The call of the popped cork at a Lidl price point? Lush. All bubbly and fruity and hinting at good times. You make us feel untouchable but look a right tit (after 4+ glasses).
- Ankle boots – You look practical. You’re in fashion (if you get the right type of heel and shape of toe). But you are remarkably hard to find – the exact suitable heel height with perfect lack of pomp? That task alone requires a degree in low key fashion footwear. But dang you comfy.
- Play doh – Trusty friend on a rainy day and destroyer of an OCD-er’s sanity. Playdoh and softplay, you are all we have from January to March. But you can be callous when crusty. And fickle – when 4 different colours are splidged together and wodged in one pot… we simply can’t love you as we once did. You’ve changed. It’s not us, it’s you.
- Eye lash curlers – Oh stubby-lashed saviour. Hang-over eye reviver. We are no longer able to look in the mirror with the ‘tiny eye’, you have us hooked. Do not ever leave. We will find you.
- The last drink of the night (after my ride home has left) – The promise, oh the promise. The reality… Urg. Why? Why do we always blame that very last tipple and not the keg or vat that slipped down in the hours preceding?
- London – We love you. It hurt us to part from you, but why do you leave us with black bogeys, a cocktail of germs and totally skint/exhausted? But the shops, the clamour, the glamour, the bars, the restaurants, the theatres, the galleries…We take it all back, we love you and can never leave you (in spirit).
- Penny sweets – Why have you not cost 1p since c. 1984? Why do you cost £6 for a small striped bag at the cinema? But we HAVE to have you. You are a chewy, tooth-fuzzling compulsion. You are stashed in our cupboard, glove-box, handbag, desk drawer and I pray that we should never know a day without you. Let us never look at your ingredients list #myonlyvegetarianfailing
- That friend – Like your first sneaky cigarette behind the bike shed … something about it feels good, but you always feel bad and sometimes even dirty after the encounter. We all have that friend, we’re intrigued to meet up with them, we may even indulge in a bit of bad mouthing or gossip mongering. In the moment it feels risqué in a good way. But the journey home always feels like the walk of shame.
I’d love to hear your frenemies? If we asked every mum or every human would we find that one unanimous frenemy?