Dear teenaged self,
For the love of god take that bloody hideous over sized Manic Street Preachers T-Shirt off and burn the indie flowery skirt. Enjoy the sensation of having a stomach that doesn’t ripple when you laugh and fold over the top of your jeans, wherever possible expose it by wearing crop t-shirts or bikinis – even when it is cold.
Stop the moping about, Brett Anderson will never marry you and Kurt Kobain isn’t really one to aim for a lifetime commitment.
Be happy, enjoy the sunshine as you walk to school in the morning to classes you know deep down you enjoy. Revel in the joy of not having to face the nine to five grind that will arrive at your doorstep before you have time to realise.
And listen to you mother, put the fag out, it’s not cool. If you still insist on having a crafty one then let me assure that chewing gum and Anais Anais will only result in exaggerating the smell of B & H not removing it.
The DJ boyfriend? Yup, sorry again, your mother was right again, not worth it. Although the break up will send you round the globe for some amazing experiences so some good will come from it.
Avoid all drinks with the words “diamond” or “mad dogs” in it. If you must drink (and really you are too young) then at least be civilised and pour yourself a nice cool G and T. Plus nothing screams underage more than an overdressed, heavily made up young girl in her mothers heels who is asking for ‘Hooch’ at the bar. Try the same approach but with ask for a G and T with a slice and you just may get served at the Ritz club on a Saturday night.
That eyebrow piecing you are hankering for? It will leave you scarred for life, hurt like hell, and break your mother’s heart. But it is worth it because until the infection kicks in for a couple of days you will look the dogs bollocks.
Finally, go easy on your mum, one day you will have three of your own and then, only then, will you truly understand.
Lots of love,
Your older, not much wiser, but slightly scarred self,