Single in 2009...and 2011

So let’s start with the background I was 22 when I wrote this article and yet it is as relevant 2 years later as it was at the time. 

Single is an altogether new experience for me, as soon as I could have a boyfriend I did have a boyfriend, and in fact did not stop having a boyfriend until very recently.  This time, I thought to myself, things would be different.  I would not settle for ‘alright’ the thought ‘but we’re such good friends’ would not cross my mind and most importantly this time I knew he definitely wouldn’t change.  Sex in the City eat your heart out because I was going to have it all from outlandishly romantic dates to passionate uncomplicated sex with strangers.  Reader, you may have already guessed it but this is not exactly what came my way, in fact I was thrown into a twilight zone known as singledom, attempting to traverse the vast chasms between what I, the single female, wanted and what he, the single male was willing to give. 

Now to the outsider it would seem I live in an extremely privileged bubble, I have a lovely family and a tight knit group of friends however one key point separates me from them, they are all in stable and loving relationships.  Why is this so terrible I hear you cry from the stalls?  Is it merely that you are entrapped in a bitter cycle of man hate and self hate wishing destruction to all those around who dare feel this alien emotion also know as happiness?  No.  Quite simply no.  No from the tops of sky scrapers and the bottom of the sea.  I am quite happy to bumble along being surrounded by my gloriously infatuated friends and my oh-so-in-love parents, but it would seem that they are not so happy with this state to affairs.  The crux of the issue is that I am not merely Amanda, not even Amanda our single friend, but Amanda our novelty single friend.  I am the science project of people who should really know better.  Everyone is suddenly the expert inundating me with advice for how to handle the 18 to 30 year old man and quite frankly a lot of its conflicting and most of its rubbish (I am thankful nonetheless).   What gets me is the sheer quantity of technical terms that must be grasped; the one night stand, ‘seeing’ each other, fuck buddies, friends with benefits.    After playing with these ideas extensively and researching them thoroughly I have come to a conclusion, they are merely all contrived Neanderthal-reminiscent concepts developed to get into our knickers no matter what the occasion but making the poor floundering female believe that it was something completely different.  This probably didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out but in all honesty I was proud of my discovery and felt being single might not turn out to be the minefield I first envisaged.  Again my naivety shone out like a beacon, why could I ever believe it could be that easy.  Was it really such a mistake to bring him home?  Would he really not respect me in the morning/do I really care?  I couldn’t think of anything more ridiculous- surely the option of a relatively attractive girl putting out regularly for very little return was somewhat appealing?  No?  OK fine have it your way! 

If ONLY men were simply in it for the sex, life would be a walk in the park (or a romp in the bushes if you’d prefer).  So here is my last plea for some level of relationship where we can both be happy without me sleeping around excessively or having to get hitched… Single girl seeks single guy for fun, laughter, intelligent conversation and most importantly lots and lots of no strings sex!

Shopping in Style

Shopping has always been my nemesis.  The idea of trawling round the shops on a Saturday afternoon with the whole world and their prams makes my stomach turn.  The minute I step onto foreign soil however this fear would seem to dissipate and I am all too willing to spend hours burrowing through throngs of stalls to find the best souvenirs to bestow on friends and family.  Here are my top 5 shopping destinations.

Otavalo, Ecuador is the last word when it comes to shopping in South America.  It claims to be the biggest open air market on the continent and it wouldn’t surprise me if this title extended to the world.  There is a drawback; it is remarkably difficult to get to considering its infamy.  Negotiating buses in Ecuador can be a daunting experience at the best of times; there are decidedly less of the luxury liners that are so common elsewhere and the road to Otavalo is steep, narrow and long.  Placed two hours outside the capital Quito it is a destination in itself, but its remote location and lack of activities in the surrounding area means that visiting it on the way to elsewhere is out of the question.   The journey is worth it and you are thoroughly rewarded on arrival, stalls boast wares not only from Ecuador but a range of Andean nations so friends and family should not be disappointed with their gifts.

The Northern Quarter in Manchester, England is my northern home, I went to university here so it will always hold a special place in my heart.  Not only can it offer one of the best nights out it also has an exceptional array of boutiques and vintage stores; perfect to perfect your image.  My favourite has to be Small Gods, a cavernous space filled to the rafters with second hand items dating from every decade- one thing to remember ‘It’s second hand not vintage’!

If you’re looking for something really special, custom-made is the way to go and South East Asia has tailors on every corner willing to take your measurements and produce a seamlessly finished article in a mere 24 hours.  I had a suite made in Thailand in 2006 and it is still in box fresh condition after countless batterings in my washing machine, although Hoi An in Vietnam is more synonymous with this service, anywhere there are tourists there will be tailors. 

Porte de Clignancourt, Paris, France is a sprawling mass of paraphernalia from market standards such as knock off designer brands and ‘fell off the back of a lorry’ electronics mixed in with antique brik-a-brak, vintage clothing and furniture. 

Marrakesh, Morocco is the stuff of fairytales, the bazaar is a twisted mass of dim, labyrinth like alley ways so entangled that you could spend hours walking in circles without noticing.  Sunlight escapes through the rafters in the slatted roof illuminating polished silver lampshades and glittering stained glass ornaments.  Everywhere is alive with the buzz of chattered negotiations and in the distance the faint whistle of a snake charmers pipe.  Authentic?  Perhaps not, but the theatre of the experience is definitely unforgettable. 

 Photos to follow.