Yes peeps, it is Controversial Monday!
Having reviewed the Oscar coverage from last night, seriously, it is like the mothership is calling me home, I have come to a bold conclusion and realised that I have a regret.
I regret not being a trophy girlfriend.
Now, I know what you are thinking, trophy girlfriends aren't something you should aspire to be. They are a VERY BAD thing in the world and surely not something that a kickass feminist woman such as myself should regret not being.
But, let me explain myself.
I would hate to be a trophy wife or a forever trophy girlfriend, if you see what I mean, someone only valued for their entire lives on their looks and not who they are. That would suck.
But, how much fun would it be to spend six months of your early twenties with a disgustingly rich/famous man, having luxurious holidays and meals and visiting fabulous locations and attending amazing events?
Knowing that, while he is valuing you only for what you look like, you are using him right back for all of the above. And then, when you are done, you leave and find someone who loves you for you and all that...
I realise, of course that I am sounding more and more like one of those 18 year olds on a Findmeasugardaddy.com type site and that also I have planned for a proper rich and successful boyfriend who is also fairly hot and a maximum of 45 rather than a wrinkley and limping 72 year old randy old man.
In fact, I am really thinking of George Clooney, I mean seriously, lucky lucky Stacy Keibler. No idea who she is but so far this year she has been to the Golden Globes (gorgeous in red Valentino), the SAG Awards (stunning in black Marchesa), the Critics Choice Awards (super hot in white Armani), the National Board of Review Awards (ravishing in black and silver Marchesa with a Jimmy Choo clutch) and now, finally, at the Oscars, resplendent in yet another Marchesa gown but this time in gold. And all on the arm of George.
Seriously, just for a few months, how much fun?
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