Ever the source of writing inspiration, one member of a gay WhatsApp group that I have happened upon declared one day; ‘Free Britney and Palestine’, which allegedly he had spotted graffitied across a wall in London. This casual anecdote left one fellow Whatsapper disgruntled, as they stated how a comparison cannot be drawn due to the complexity of the Israel/Palestine conflict; simultaneously insinuating that the #FreeBritney cause is a far lesser campaign. But is it? And is it wrong to group the two together in to one statement?
The most expensive drink I ever handed over cash for was a £10 gin and tonic at The Library Club on St Martin’s Lane (since closed down). It was not so much the price itself that was notable, moreso the fact that I was an unpaid design intern at a luxury magazine, doing my very best to give the impression that I was indeed not an unpaid design intern at a luxury magazine, but instead very much a core member of an affluent team.
As a graduate living in London, I am typically surrounded by my liberal, left-leaning friends, often preaching the ways of inclusion, aspects of socialism and a fairer society. The conversation is all well and good, until, inevitably, someone declares; ‘all Tories are *****’, which faces not rebuttal, but typically, agreement and applause. Yet, I’ve always felt a deep unease around these bold, unwavering statements.
Anna Sorokin, of Russian dissent and a German national, was released from prison earlier this year for her crimes committed whilst posing as ‘Anna Delvey’, a billionaire heiress living a socialite lifestyle in New York City. Through forged documents and bad cheques, she managed to transform herself from magazine intern to ethereal jet-setter, duping banks, hotels and fellow socialites (if you can indeed class her as one) in the process.
Sitting within the four walls of my bedroom, at my desk, as I have been for over a year now, I cannot stop myself from thinking wistfully of the day we can all ‘return to work’. A social creature, I took pleasure from being surrounded by my colleagues in a bustling environment, and enjoyed my commute to and from work each day (admittedly it was a walk; I empathise firmly with those who had to take London’s Central Line).
Perhaps it was Trump’s election in the US and Brexit in the UK which cements 2016 as the beginning of an era where politics had officially moved in to our daily lives. Topics of immigration, welfare, national debt, patriotism and globalisation became dinner time conversation, alongside the so called ‘identity politics’ of race, gender, sexism, sexuality and so on. An occurrence that felt both gradual and sudden, it was no longer just the politicians, commentators and journalists who had the knowledge to speak on matters of the state, but everyone. As of 2020, all topics seem to be subject to political debate, from masks and vaccines, to what you watch and who you’re friends with, nothing can escape the claws of political discussion. Nothing has remained sacred, not even reality TV.
I love a trip to ‘The Big Tesco’. I think it’s something to do with the vastness of the space in contrast to my shared London accommodation, bringing me not just the sustenance to live, but also a sense of momentary escapism as I browse the isles more expansive than my own living room. So it was to my horror when I went to grab my usual yellow-labelled bargains that I realised they were no longer for me, but were only for those with a Clubcard Plus membership.
Herd immunity, A-level results, returning to work, testing capacity and even the time of Westminster’s last orders (now to be 10pm as it is for the rest of us vagrants), so-called government u-turns have become a fixture of our political vocabulary since the very beginning of the coronavirus pandemic. An event in which the government has laid out one plan and then quickly rectified with another, the ‘u-turn’ phrasing typically holds negative connotations towards Johnson’s approach to the challenges presented by Covid-19.
Being LGBTQ+ can be tough, but sometimes, fitting in to the ‘gay scene’ can feel tougher still. For those who already know where I am coming from, the rainbow flags and pride marches can feel like a public act of hypocrisy. The fact is, the LGBTQ+ community is often rampant with sexism, racism, transphobia, biphobia, and often, homophobia itself. This results in vastly different experiences across the spectrum, it is not homogenous. For example, the life of a cisgendered gay white man such as myself can be far easier to that of say a trans male bisexual black person. The LGBTQ+ label may be useful, but it can also be seen as an oversimplification.
When my friend sent me an article last night (August 19th, 2021) stating that pornographic content was to be banned on the social media site OnlyFans from October onwards, I was in disbelief. Immediately laughing it off as ‘fake news’, I did a Google search to be sure, only for the results to confirm what my friend had shared.