Female Friends

In my working environment it is not good to let people know too much about who you really are and what you're really like. Teachers aren't supposed to be real people. We're supposed to be fully functioning machines that never break down and never go wrong. Above all, we are supposed to be normal. The same probably goes for many other professions. Perhaps sharing your personal life at work is always a bad idea. Perhaps work should never be the place for close friendships. But, speaking as someone who spends perhaps 75-85% of her waking life at work, that seems a little depressing.

So, in my 2 and a bit years in my job I have tried to hit the perfect compromise. I am friends with my male colleagues. Three of them have become extremely close friends. They don't question me, they don't find me (that) strange. Men apparently just accept people on face value. Out of school I am very different. I am a 'girly girl' and well over half my friends are female. But many (most?) of those female friends seem to have 'issues' to find a catch all term for it. A is a self harmer, prone to depression. B is an insecure ex bulimic, ex drug addict. C is dieting herself to oblivion, D is sleeping with anyone who'll have her in an attempt to feel attractive to herself. I could go on. Many of them know about my problems. That seems to be how female friendships go for me. I attract and am attracted to fuck ups as a default setting.

So I told myself I didn't want that level of vulnerability in my work relationships. But the women I work with are lovely. And all seemed so normal. So recently, I have let my guard down and become more and more friendly with several of them. TodayI went shopping with one. My first social trip with a female work colleague and what does she tell me - she has body dysmorphia and used to make herself sick. She is also worried that a teacher in her year group is going too far with a diet and will 'end up' anorexic. Cue me revealing way too much about myself and she sees the state of my upper arms in a changing room mirror. This is why I should not talk to women I work with!! Luckily, she's very discreet. But back to talking to the men I go!

What's in a Name?

I went shopping this morning with a colleague from work. Early start to get a parking place at one of the most exclusive outlet shopping villages in the country. Two hours of frenzied upper class bargain hunters, desperate to get their designer shirt of choice, that perfect pair of shoes, that eye grabbing silver necklace. I got elbowed in the head in Ralph Lauren, struggled to squeeze through the door of Dolce and Gabana and came close to a claustrophobia induced panic attack in Jack Wills.

I exaggerate of course, but you get the sense of general atmosphere. Was I in on it? Yes. I now have a new £39 Jack Wills shirt (down from £75) and a new £59 Aubin and Wills Gillet (down from £120). Both of which I needed like a hole in the head. But I can't lie. I love them. And my love is not entirely independent of their labels. I have come to a new realisation of my shallowness today. Yes, I will always have a love affair with Tesco and Asda clothing. But I get a certain satisfaction from having designers too. Does it actually make a difference? Is the quality any greater? I think it probably is but it doesn't stop me feeling guilty. And should I feel guilty? I don't know.