Mindbubble Blog

0 Comments

Why we all might need a bit of SATC in our life, but maybe not SATC 2

June 3rd, 2010 by Marion

Flash response from the Community about the last blog about Sex and the City 2!! After Mindbubbler Sarah’s blog was published, we had some response and decided to publish one of them… And what about you? What do you think about this movie?


It’s hard to ignore the critical drubbing that Sex and the City 2 has received in the past two weeks. It’s been bad enough to make me decide not to see it, with accusations of cultural insensivity, and a lack of any of the wit and warmth of series enough to put me off.

This may cause you to question why I am writing this blog post about a film I haven’t seen. Well, Sarah wrote a highly spirited defence of the film, having seen it in opening week. For Sarah, ultimately it’s about having a laugh, a bit of escapism:

You cannot go to see a film like S&tC2 expecting it to explore some Bergmanesque neurological dilemma. Most of the audience will have been avid fans of the TV series and we want to catch up with four old ‘friends’; there are going to be moments of story fragmentation and loose ends but who cares?

Whilst I’m all for having a bit of a fun and escapism at the cinema, is this really all Sex and the City was about? Whilst I’m not making any claims for SATC presenting a story so brilliant and complex as to give Dostoyevsky a run for his money, for me, the original series was more than a bit of fluff for women to wallow in.

Whilst it may seem strange to think about now, on launch in 1998, Sex and the City did feel new, and different. A series showcasing women! Women in their 30s and 40s! And they actually do more than look pretty. Whilst these were still women infatuated with clothes, leading unrealistic lives in Manhattan, this at least presented a step change for representations of women on TV. Moreover, amidst the Blahnik lust and moaning about men, there was stuff in here that you just didn’t hear on TV coming from women’s mouths. Frank discussions about sex, work, abortion – subjects usually not fully addressed in programmes focusing on women, for women.

Beyond this, the show could also have moments of true wit and insight. Regardless of whether you liked the characters or not, you could at least accept that it was well written, for the most part.

For me, that is why the reaction to SATC 2 has been so vitriolic. It appears that the insight, the wit, the female truths have ultimately been dispensed with, and the balance has firmly tipped in favour of the fashion, the shrieking and the ridiculousness. For many women, that’s a let down. Whilst SATC never changed lives, it at least did something a bit different. Now it just feels that the film confirms many stereotypes and assumptions made about women – that all we care about is clothes, fluff and happy endings.

0 Comments

Why we all need a bit of Sex and the City 2

June 3rd, 2010 by Sarah

Cynics be damned! I’ve just spent the glorious first of June in a packed Peckham Multiplex watching Sex and the City 2 and it was everything a girl could ask for.

It’s bombed in the States and critics this side of the Pond were poised with their poison pens long before the movie’s release. I read one review which, like all the others, slated the stars for their brainless, botoxed performances and a none-too-PC theme. Yes, the ‘girls’ started off looking a little pinched, but once my eyes adjusted to seeing them on the big screen again this glossy, good-humoured and supremely escapist world felt like the only place I wanted to be.

You cannot go to see a film like S&tC2 expecting it to explore some Bergmanesque neurological dilemma. Most of the audience will have been avid fans of the TV series and we want to catch up with four old ‘friends’;  there are going to be moments of story fragmentation and loose ends but who cares?

To keep its fans happy S&tC2 has got to be sexy – the outfits; camp – the swan-fest of a wedding was the best I’ve seen in a long while; it’s got to feature a certain city (although critics would have you believe they take leave of the Big Apple in the first ten minutes – wrong!); it’s got to be smutty – and Samantha has the best lines (except on her face) that any woman would want to spout, or should that be Spirt? (Just wait ‘til the Danish architect, played by Max Ryan, makes his entrance!)  It’s also got to feature its fair share of feminine fragility and friendship and it does.

It’s two years since the first film, which climaxed in Carrie’s marriage to Big, and the girls are all back in NYC: Carrie’s now Mrs Big, or rather Mrs Preston, Charlotte is a mother with fewer Martha Stewart moments than she would hope for, Miranda is multi-tasking as a mother and lawyer whose chauvinistic boss has helped her fall out of love with her job and Samantha is on a menopausal mission to turn back time.

The central theme of the movie focuses on Carrie’s marriage; she’s just written a book on the subject and she’s been asked to pen an article for Vogue to accompany its release (check out her dodgy grammar with the article’s title: “The Terrible Two’s”).

At the Liza Minnelli-led wedding Big and Carrie surprise guests by honestly admitting they have no plans to have kids; that it’s just the two of them, from which point Carrie looks hard at what this means. She’s hankering after the glamour of her old life whereas Big hankers for the comfort of his beautifully styled sofa, plasma screen and his missus.

Cue a politically dodgy, but sumptuous, trip to the Abu Dhabi, which gives Carrie the chance to assess her situation and which paves the way to reintroduce some hot, hot, hot men like Smith. Yowzer! It may not be PC but let the objectifying begin! I positively purred when he appeared, as did the entire audience… Remember furniture maker Aidan?  Carrie bumps into him in the market and shares more than just reminiscences on their trip down memory lane.

So what are the downsides? Well, it doesn’t ingratiate itself to the Muslim world but take it with a smear of Samantha’s hormonal hummus and let it go. Carrie has more brattish moments than I remember in the series but they soon get ironed out; Miranda looks detached at the beginning but this is soon clarified and for the first time in twelve years I found myself identifying with her; I even shed a tear.  It’s 15 minutes too long – they could dispense with some scenes in the Souk and we’d be none the wiser. Oh, and there’s not enough of Smith.

In my opinion Samantha steals the show giving all women under the age of 52 something to look forward to, even with the hot flushes!

The high fashion and style are thrilling; whoever said there was a recession? The movie will make you head straight to Boots to buy a vat of serum and lipgloss and to hell with it! Summer’s here – what you need is a bit of Sex and the City, too!

0 Comments

Motherhood Vs Womanhood: Are we slaves to our babies as suggested by a French feminist?

May 30th, 2010 by Sarah

French feminist Elisabeth Badinter, whose new book suggests women are in danger of becoming slaves to their babies by adhering to the modern earthy methods of Motherhood, is both brave and refreshing.

Badinter’s concern is for those who labour over wholesome home-made/organic baby food rather than jars, those who eschew throwaway nappies in favour of re-useable ones and those who quit working (and smoking) for the sole purpose of rearing their young, which is currently en vogue.

She questions how we’re addressing the Woman Vs Motherhood balance and its effect on our wellbeing, hence the title: Conflit, la Femme et la Mere (Conflict, the Woman and the Mother); if my French wasn’t très rusty I’d order a copy right NOW.

It’s taken me four years to emerge from the fug of new motherhood and Badinter’s prompted me to question my own decisions.

Thankfully I’m a non-smoker but I would hope I would have stopped during pregnancy if I were. That said I have a dear friend who was advised by her medics that it was better for her to have the odd ciggy during pregnancy than suffer the anxiety she was feeling at the time. I agree.

No one bullied me into breastfeeding, I always knew I wanted to do it and I am grateful it worked for me. My mum assured me that the Cow & Gate diet, all the rage in the ‘60s, was “good enough for you” but really she had no other option.

Rather than being supportive Mothers can be the worst perpetrators of guilt trips, as I found out. Several friends bleated on about the positives of breastfeeding and the need to persevere (when I gave up after 10 months), forgetting they were preaching to the converted but my first born was clearly hungry and breastfeeding was making us both stressed; formula won in the end. I have a strong mind but I felt the need to justify my decision to stop, which still annoys me.

I gave up after six months the second time around, because there are only so many times you can endure a nip on the nipple from a nipper with gnashers. He was also given ‘posh’ jars over home-cooking and lapped them up. Mother and baby did just fine.

I’m borderline teetotal but if anything I took up drinking during pregnancy. I craved red wine with my first boy and white with my second. I went off it as soon as they were born but indulged in one glass a night for six months of each pregnancy. It felt good in a way that it hasn’t since. At no time did I feel like I was harming my baby and I trusted my instincts and my good sense.

Many of my choices are probably a result of my history – whereas my mother had to return to work after 6 weeks, I was made redundant and had nothing to go back to. Had I had the choice I would have returned to a 3-day week but that’s not so easy in a recession.

No Motherhood Manual could prepare me, however, for the internal battle I currently have as my eldest prepares for Big School in September.

It hit me like a brick that it took 38 years to have children and that I (still) don’t want to waste one minute I have with them; this conflicts entirely with the career-focused me who loves the challenge of work and the benefits it bestows, from accessible cash to healthcare, pensions and general freedom.

I don’t feel I am a slave to my children for opting to do much of what Badinter refutes but I do feel a slave to the system in that I cannot afford the childcare to afford the freedom to look for the right job during the daylight hours while my brain is awake, let alone feel sexy as well.

The one thing I try not to do is judge anyone who does it differently to me, due to circumstance or simple choice. However, I come down hard on those whose choices put their children’s health and happiness at risk.

As for being in full time childcare from birth, let me tell you, it’s my mum rather than me that feels the guilt about the whole thing… while I have an independent streak she has spent her life making up for those lost years.

In my opinion choice is one of the most valuable commodities known to womankind. Find a way to reclaim that and you do not need to be a slave to anything or anyone.

0 Comments

The Web, the User and the Guru. A pamphlet about online footprint and web 2.0 tailing

May 28th, 2010 by Marion

If you have registered to any jobsites over the past 2 years, you have probably been receiving newsletters about how you should take care of your online presence.

Back in 2006, we were already told that 77% of recruiters and employers are “conducting online searches on candidates” (stats: ExecuNet). As if none of us ever Googled ourselves to find our homonyms or stalked our exes on MySpace (that was before God Mark Zuckerberg created Facebook: now, no need to stalk, he’s had already added you as a “friend”)… Tip: If you want to sound less creepy, you can say you’re Cyber-vetting your ex.

Somehow, added to the help from a shrink, a personal stylist, and a life coach, it became “good for you” to seek the help of a Social Media Guru to make sure your little web 2.0 world does not stain your immaculate online reputation.

Are people really unaware of the consequences of their online activity?

I am all for online anonymity: whatever some of my “friends” say, I am very unhappy with Facebook gently forcing me, as a user, to choose my real name as a screename – that’s probably why I decided to test the suicide 2.0 !

For a while, the net has been considered as an outlet, a way of releasing the pressure of real life. That’s probably what made it both threatening and so attractive at the same time. The first internet was, to me, the internet of Second life and other previous metaverse’s where the whole point was to live another life, be somebody else, and have an avatar (way long ago before the blue thing on the wide screens!).

Now, in the Real Time Web, everyone is out there, updating their status and tweeting around. Remember that 73% of Twitter’s users tweeted less than 10 times – It means that the 27% left is fairly noisy! As commented by Nick, my friend working at the music social networking site last.fm:

“Everyone is so desperate to carve out their presence on the internet: they make loads of controversial and ill-thought out remarks that they probably haven’t even thought through just to have an opinion for themselves.”

The web has definitively evolved since my childhood, and, I think, for the better. But it’s still a wide wild space and what alarms me is that I am not sure the youth has adapted to the new danger of the internet. For instance all this media buzz around Facebook rapes proves that 1) young ladies can’t see the devil in a random fellow social user 2) young (or not so young) lads are using the web for a very wrong reason.

That why I would highly recommend Social Media Gurus to think about converting themselves into Social Media Prevention school lecturers & child protection online agents…

If you really insist – Some “useful” Online presence tips there.

0 Comments

Chivalry and femininity behind the wheel

May 12th, 2010 by Sarah

I could barely conceal the smile that crossed my face when I read about a new guide to good in-car manners and there are few people who need a copy more than me.

Only this evening I sat patiently at the wheel of my Honda FR-V after giving way to a driver who had a long hill to climb before there was room for my car.  I’d just dropped my Mum off, my small boys were giggling in their car seats after a day-trip to the Isle of Wight and the evening sun was the crown on a beautiful day. I thought nothing could change my good mood…

Until the driver I’d let pass completely ignored my good-will gesture. Rather than raising a polite hand of thanks, the miserable motorist virtually scowled as she drove by.

Instead of letting the incident pass with dignity, I came over all Gordon-Brown and slagged her off, mouthing obscenities that would have been more at home in a rugby Sin Bin than a Surrey street.

My over-reaction surprised even me and I failed to consider how my behaviour would come across to my two eves-dropping passengers, let alone anyone else.

I am generally genial but there’s something about other people’s lack of manners that has me acting like a harpy.

And so I turned to Debrett’s. They are the first stop anyone who wants to improve their manners should make and they say they are “the modern authority on all matters of etiquette, social occasions, people of distinction and fine style”.

They’ve just teamed up with Vauxhall to publish the elegantly titled: Thoroughly Modern Motoring Manners from Debrett’s and Astra.

It’s a bit of a marketing coup for Vauxhall because they’re not a car manufacturer I would naturally connect with the Social Season; it’s a bit like suggesting Prince Charles sells his Duchy Originals exclusively through Lidl, but I’m all for crossing the class barriers.

“Contemporary car design is all about great style, so it’s important that today’s drivers behave in a way that matches what their car says about them,” says Simon Ewart, from the Vauxhall Astra team. Either I bear that in mind, or I will have to down-grade to a rusty old banger.

The C word is back on the menu – CHIVALRY – and there was me thinking it had gone down the same pan as the Prawn Cocktail. The guide suggests the chivalrous man should not only make sure we ladies are comfy in the car, but offer to take our coats, adjust our seats and keep the car’s temperature to our liking!

And how many years of re-training will that take? I’m normally carrying his coat, opening my window because he refuses to turn off the boiling heater, while spending the journey avoiding spillages from the coffee cups he’s discarded on the floor!

Debrett’s even suggests the chivalrous male holds his tongue regarding clichéd comments about women drivers. (I can’t even manage that!)

Being ladylike is also back in fashion, so I have a lot to learn, including how to get in and out of my car.

The guide says: “Smooth down your skirt. Keeping your knees together, swivel your body and swing your legs outwards. Place one foot down, keeping your knees together. Dip your head and shoulders forward and slide and glide out of the car.”

That’s all very well but how am I supposed load two sticky nippers into their car seats wearing a pencil skirt and kitten heels? My uniform for the past five years has been jam-smeared denim and I don’t see that changing over the next few months.

Idealistically it would be great if this guide were to be taken seriously by ‘motorists’ (I love that old-fashioned word!) and made mandatory reading by anyone about to take their driving test, but let’s face it, that isn’t going to happen. I have only one friend who has repeatedly taken my breath away by her calm demeanor behind the wheel, but she just has natural inner grace I find impossible to acquire.

Quite how tongue-in-cheek the Thoroughly Modern Motoring Manners from Debrett’s and Astra is, I don’t know, but it is working on my conscience and I am going to make a real effort to make manners matter and fend off the desire to raise a finger in road rage.

0 Comments

DIY – the handy way to relieve Stress and rediscover the work-life balance

May 5th, 2010 by Sarah

It wasn’t long ago that I was getting to grips with the drill in a bid to find some kind of feminist freedom, to prove myself an equal in the land of builder’s bum and bravado.

Since then, September 2009, when I was still calling a ‘rawlplug’ a ‘raw plug’, I have not only proved my equality in our house of hammer horrors, I’ve upped my status to ‘Guv’nor’ and learned how to relax into the bargain, which is exactly what’s happening the world over, according to a report in the Financial Times on April 3rd.

Some head to the potting shed and garden to unwind but increasingly, and not simply due to economic strife, some of us are heading to our toolboxes to take pleasure in the joy crafting our homes.

Many people who are perfectionists at work bring that work ethic home and avoid the ‘amateur’ slur, like the pal I spent the weekend with. My mate admits that his desire to hang pictures and reorganise his new garage verges on uptight, but his sense of satisfaction knows no bounds. He switches off when he’s switching on.

Now, in my earlier blog, I vowed to enrol in a women-only DIY course, well that hasn’t happened but largely due to the fact I have been imbued with just the right amount of confidence to tackle minor jobs around our home.

I’m not stupid enough to think I could re-wire the house, or plumb our new bathroom despite the fact we’ve waited two years to install it: we’ve run out of cash but if I tried to do it myself we’d have to fork out a fortune getting a real plumber to mend my mistakes.

But, for the simpler jobs, there are plenty of websites I can tap into to get the information I need to get started. I checked out Wikihow to find out how to hang wallpaper but I found DIY Doctor more user-friendly and visually appealing

I’m lucky that I watched my mum pasting away over a paper table as a kid. Sadly she didn’t teach me any techniques but the fact papering was as natural as cooking (more so, because she’s a lousy cook!) whilst holding down a full-time job and raising me single-handed, eradicated any notion that such projects weren’t possible. Mum epitomises the ethic of the make-do-and-mend generation; she’s living proof that if you put your mind to it, anything is possible. She cringes at some of the botched jobs she’s seen paid craftsmen do on my different abodes.

In America Faythe Levine is the Martha Stewart of the craft world. She’s penned a book called Handmade Nation and a DVD documentary as a follow-up. She reckons “something big is happening…DIY is not just a term but a way of life”.

Whilst I’m not prepared to sign up to one of the ‘chapters’ set up in honour of the handmade-cum-craft boom at the Church of Craft, which appears to kneel at the alter of La Levine, I am regularly found praying that I’ve correctly measured the wall and the wood before I get drilling. Sadly a lack of worshipping room has put a damper on the only UK chapter in Manchester.

I had a series of interviews recently and was relieved when they were over so I could get my paintbrush out but I do have bugbears on the DIY relaxation front, namely a) with two small boys rampaging about the place getting the drill out is hardly the safest option and b) I get so stressed trying to find the necessary hours to prepare a project that I end up in a tiz and need to sit down with a camomile tea.

But today, as my partner’s mum kept the kids busy with a water pistol I mended the washing machine (only marginally flooding the utility space) and prepared shelves to house shoes. Tomorrow I plan to paint more shelves, add another coat to my ‘blackboard wall’ in the kitchen and fix the errant ball on my son’s Victorian bed… if I can find it. Anyone fancy babysitting?!

1 Comment

‘Erotic Capital’, a vital rate of exchange?

April 26th, 2010 by Sarah

At last we’re seeing glimpses of the sun. Consequently the pavements are full of jolly folk practically skipping along on their way to work, slightly shivery, in shirt sleeves when only days ago they were clad from head to foot in Puffa jackets and thermals (or was that just me?!).

It doesn’t matter that the rays haven’t been showering us long enough to bin our bronzing powder, when a simple smile and a smidge of sociability have become as important as qualifications, at least that’s what a study from the London School of Economics and Political Science suggests.

We’ve seen this powerful combination of good looks and savoir faire being used as a commodity by celebrities and (some) politicians for a while now: some are lucky enough to have brains added to the mix like The Obama’s, some have been less cerebral in their means of courting the press to become successful like Katie Price, who makes no apology for making an asset of her assets. David Beckham may be football pitch perfect but it’s his brand of personality which has kept him on the billboards.

Sociologist Dr Catherine Hakim, who published the report, has coined the term ‘Erotic Capital’ and it looks like a commodity those of us who’re academically challenged would be well advised to add to our CVs, along with economic, cultural and social capital.

Erotic Capital is a combination of six main factors, says the Doctor, and the good news is we women have the edge over men!

They are: beauty, sexual attractiveness, social graces, liveliness, social presentation and sexuality performance – and a seventh, fertility, in countries where that is an indicator of success.

That’s all well and good but anyone with kids will need a good dollop of serum and sleep to be able to make headway with any of these, whether or not, they’re blessed with the genes of Grace Kelly.

But the reason women have the advantage is because, apparently, we tend to work harder than men at being physically and socially attractive and at dressing well. There you go girls, all the effort is worth it!

It also has something to do with there being a dearth of women readily available to satisfy the increased male sexual appetite, especially with the over 35s, according to a number of sexual surveys from around the world. It makes women in great demand. Try telling that to my wonderful girlfriends who are currently without a handsome hunk to ‘trade’ with.

Personally I can’t see much difference between Erotic Capital and good, old fashioned Charm but knowledge is power – you recognise it and in the workplace of this ‘sexualised society’ you maximise its potential: capitalising on the capital – and in the Capital, because believe me you need it when you’re negotiating who gets the last seat on the Underground.

Dr Hakim acknowledges that it’s no secret that beautiful people have always found their looks advantageous but that gender equality evens things out, whereas “erotic capital is something all of us trade on and we should see it as a major constituent of our social lives. It has growing importance in the workforce,” she says.

I can’t help feeling cynical about it but it’s ridiculous to pretend we don’t already do the best we can to impress people we think could help us. Only yesterday I had my first webcam conference and I made darn sure I was ready for my close-up, Mr DeMille.

I had more make-up on than a transvestite and set the webcam facing my posh curtains with the light shining on me to make me look like there was Vaseline on the lens as it focused on my glam 1940s film set, all the while resting nonchalantly on my hand to cover up my double chin!

Was I inadvertently making use of my Erotic Capital, or just making a meal of it? If I get the contract I will know whether or not it worked. And if I do I will consider using my capital to set up a venture for the Nation’s Erotic Capitalists.