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The seven rules of sistahood. Break them and risk the wrath of a woman.

Now, I’m aware my posts so far have been rather ‘boy heavy’. And let’s be honest: I could continue harking on about boys all ruddy day… but this one? THIS ONE – is for the girls.

Growing up with no less than four sisters has indeed taught me a little something about sisterhood *does clicky fingers in awkward white girl manner* This is by no means a man-hating ‘girl power’ rant; merely an appreciative nod to the relationships with the girls in my life, and the girl code that I live by.

Far from being a man-hater (I love men) something I have come to learn is that what I get from my female friendships I am yet to find from a single man. Sure, I can get different things from different men *ahem* and have had my share of long term, short term, functional, dysfunctional, ridiculous and downright destructive relationships… but my girls are always, ALWAYS there to pick up the pieces.

They ‘ooohhh’ when I’ve been trodden on; they ‘ahhh’ when I’m acting like a mental worthy of a Hitchcock film, and they stroke my hair and pat my back when everyone I’ve encountered in the last 24 hours has quite frankly, got right on my tits.

And it’s my job to reciprocate, too. To be there when they trip up/fall down/ have an irreversible wardrobe malfunction or a general bad hair week.

There are, therefore, some very important Girl Rules that I live my life by. A kind of Brownie Guide bible – only I wouldn’t be seen dead in that bad mustard/brown combo and instead of badges, one is rewarded with long term friendship (and wine, and chocolate)…
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1. Never under any circumstances date a friend’s Ex

It’s not worth it, it’s never simple and there are plenty of other boys out there. Believe. He might be cute but he’s not worth the grief. A gal “pal” (yes inverted commas *spits the word pal through clenched teeth*) maybe might have got off a bit with a boy that I may have mentioned was the SEX while I may or may not have been dating someone else at the time but this TOTALLY STILL COUNTS. And yes of course I’m totally over it *seethes*

2. Oh boy – tell it like it is

Now I’m all up for being supportive and sympathetic and cooey and gushy and well, female but you just HAVE to tell it like it is when it comes to boys. I’m not saying brutally ‘heart + blender = would you like whipped crème on your heart frapaccino’ honest , but you WILL save a lot of (wo)man hours by telling the truth. We’ve all been there. We all know. If he’s not calling you, yet he’s managed to update his Facebook status/ Tweet/ go out/ get pissed/ or generally continue to exist with all his limbs still intact, then let’s face it, he ain’t feeling it and the sooner she realises and moooooves on, the better for all of us . Please refer to Exhibit: seven signs he doesn’t give a shit.

3. Don’t be a leaf blower or a wind stealer

Yep, you heard. Not a nasty side effect of the diet de jour but one of Phoebe-from-friend’s hippy dippy theories (I generally have issues separating events from sitcoms with real life and will often reel off anecdotes, genuinely believing these events occurred while I was there e.g. ‘oh my god, like the time my friend Joey locked himself in a cupboard while his house got burgled – what an idiot??!?!’.

I digress, there’s more to this than just that time that my friend Phoebe made us all read a book about goddesses and lightning bearers (ahem), SOMETIMES we steal each other’s wind. It’s a cheap shot and an easy win to make us feel better. Sharp digs and quick quips, knowing looks, and rolling eyes. Girls in a pack are PARTICULARLY guilty of this. Y’know what? Don’t. There are enough people out there to make you feel like shit, that is NOT what your friends are for. Unite ladies, unite and conquer.

4. She is always right

Always, ALWAYS. Unless she’s wrong. Then maybe SUGGEST some options or alternative views. Never ever just disagree. That’s what boys do. Yes and no; right and wrong; b,lack and white. We do grey. And beige. And magenta. Ooooh and mushroom. The possibilities are endless.

5. Never criticize… merely ‘suggest’

As above. Instead of, ‘wow, really? THAT belt. With THAT top?’ *rolls eyes and shakes head* how about… ‘wow, a mint belt with a peach top and purple flares Cheryl, that’s SO cool! Although… how about if you put your hair up, stepped away from the highlighter colour palette and tried this lovely floral dress. Ohhhhhhhh, ISN’T that better?!’ See? It’s not hard, is it?

6. Don’t be a hater

This is my number ONE key rule. Opinions are great. Venting is encouraged. Bitching is not. (Come on, come on) let’s stick together. Not all girls are great; not all girls get it; there are plenty that will hate. Believe me, I have had more #facebookgates than I’ve had hot dinners (and by hot dinners I mean McDonalds. And that is A LOT.) The snidey, sarcastic comments and ‘likes’ can FUCK RIGHT OFF. If you don’t like me, ruddy delete me. Don’t just perve on my life and pass judgement through your iPhone screen. GRRRRRRRR. I have therefore made it my mission to vote with my feet (er, if you access Facebook via your feet. Oooor, I could vote with my fingers. Yes, that one) and if I don’t like what I see, I move on, I delete, I block, I take out a restraining order or, y’know, I JUST WALK AWAY.

7. Wine makes it better

‘I choose vodka. And Chaka Khan’. Ahhh, Bridget Jones. Not a woman I aspire to but an accidental icon of mine and in this case she is right. If all else fails, drink, bust out an ‘80s disco classic (my personal fave: Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive AKA the birds-of-a-fevva official Essex girls anthem) kick your Loubies off and dance in your tights. Because at the end of the day there’s only one thing really to remember: girls are fantastic, boys are elastic.

Amy Rycroft

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