Georgie is a second year Philosophy student / Raspberry Mojito enthusiast. When she’s not thinking or drinking, you’re likely to find her experimenting with new recipes or stalking Caitlin Moran on Twitter. She likes bargain hunting and trips to the seaside, and despite her best efforts to be cool, has become resigned to the fact that her life bears a striking resemblance to that of Bridget Jones.
A few nights ago, while reminiscing about things we missed about living in halls, I brought up something I certainly don’t miss; flat G1.2’s uncooperative toilet. “It just refused to flush!” I explained, laughing to myself at the memory of five near-enough strangers stood staring at a floater, querying whether we could “boil the b****** out?” “The worst part,” I went on to say, “was that the first time it happened, no one would own up as the culprit! We had an orphaned shit!” Everyone laughed, with a few sympathetic nods from those who had experienced a similar issue. But then came a less expected reaction from a first year boy stood beside me. “Well,” he began, “at least you know that you weren’t to blame. It couldn’t have been you, because girls don’t poo.”
I remember at the time, despite my judgement being slightly skewed by the few glasses of Home Bargains £4 red wine I’d consumed, questioning whether this guy was actually for real. He seemed deadly serious, which was worrying enough, and made it worse by then turning and beginning another conversation straight after, as if he’d simply told me what the weather was going to be like, rather than disputing a rather crucial part of human biology. “But, but, where does the food go?!” I demanded, dragging him back into the conversation and desperately searching for some hint of sarcasm on his face. “What do you mean? Girls don’t eat.”
We’ve all met someone like this, and the chances of convincing him he’s wrong are about as likely as convincing him that some girls don’t like pink (newsflash!). But the encounter bothered me, and made me question not only what the guy had said, but also whether this is a view shared by many other men. Are girls really seen as these perfect, non-waste-producing nymphs? Do we really give off this aura of splendour, a constant smell of roses and a room warming energy? And if that’s what makes someone female, do I need to start ticking the other box when I fill in forms?
I thought about where these misconceptions could possibly arise from. Beginning with the ‘girls don’t eat scenario’ (since this inevitably leads to the no-poo conclusion). I can kind of (emphasis on the kind of) see the justification. Half the girls I know seem to be on constant diets, and the twitters of those that aren’t are filled with updates about how they’re starving themselves in preparation for their next #CheekyNandos.
But even so, to say we just don’t eat, ever, at all, seems a tad extreme. Maybe these guys think our natural sweetness provides us with enough nutrition to survive, or maybe we eat, but just things like cupcakes and candyfloss, cos they’re pink and make really good Instagram photos. And if this is the case, maybe in the few instances where we do poo, it comes out sweet and diamante-covered anyway.
Actually, for the few (and I really do think it’s just a few) men who believe this about women, you are very very wrong. You should also know that all the women of the world, and all the men with an adequate amount of common sense, think you are an idiot. Yano when you’re stood behind a woman at the till in Sainsbury’s and you suddenly get a fowl whiff, it’s not because something in your trolley is out of date, it’s because she had a curry last night and just can’t control herself.
Female-flatulence is a real thing. And when a woman doesn’t respond to your text straight away, it’s not because she can’t remember how to unlock her phone because she’s so bad with technology, or because she’s too busy day dreaming about her future wedding and the 15 kids she’ll have, it’s probably because she doesn’t want to talk to you, because you’re an idiot.
And while we’re on the subject, it probably wouldn’t hurt to clear up a couple more misunderstandings. When a girl likes football, it’s not because she thinks it makes her more appealing to men (we have boobs for that job, right?) it’s probably because, as shocking as this may seem, she likes football! She probably even knows what the off-side rule is, and doesn’t need a man to use fifteen salt and pepper pots to explain it to her in a pub, while asking if she’s only drinking a pint because they’ve run out of wine.
Our leg’s aren’t always hair-free either. Most girls use the hair for insulation in winter and actually resent feeling like we should have to shave it. When we exercise, we don’t ‘glow,’ we sweat. And the reason that we drive isn’t because licenses are pink, it’s because we like cars, and driving, and are actually pretty damn good at it.
Thinking back to my meeting with the ‘girls-don’t-poo’ guy from the weekend, I can only assume that he’s living in an all-male flat and is yet to discover that girls (all of us, even Kelly Brook) are disgusting. Properly disgusting, like, almost as disgusting as men! Because all men sit around and drink beer and think about boobs and eat steak and watch sports and fart and scratch and shit 5000 times a day too, right?
Image credits: someecards.com, kaurthoughts.wordpress.com, twanzphobic.wordpress.com