Dear Platform,

Word.  I want to get stuck into this debate/truth-bomb stuff, as I’m still not completely clear on what girls really like. It’d be great to find out because I really have no clue.

Here are a few rumors I’ve heard about girls:


Doesn’t everyone? How far do we go? Should we buy you a nice thing just for being you every time we see you? When are we supposed to get you things? I like to receive presents a lot but I can imagine that too many gifts gets a bit much. How much am I supposed to spend? Does it go up the more time I spend with you? Can I just buy you a CD for your birthday?

CHILL OUT.  What’s your middle name? Question?  Oh no, that’s Beyonce.  Yeah buy us shit, loads of stuff, but not flowers or chocolate.  Chocolate equals, “you’re getting tubby” while flowers equal, “you’re getting tubby and I like that, here’s a picture of my mother, could you study it and try and be more like her?”  You might as well just tell us to kneel on the floor, then check our skirt touches the ground, Granddad.  Obviously get girls stuff for birthdays and Christmas (if she’s not Jehovah), but in day-to-day life we’re not that heavily ‘gift-orientated’.  To be honest it’s a lot like buying stuff for your mum (I know this negates my previous mother comment) but imagine you fancied her because you’d been separated for your entire life, so when you eventually met her outside Oceana, she hadn’t aged since her teens, wore leather mini-skirts, and snorted when she giggled.  Then buy her some of the lame crap she likes, and funny sweets like ‘pis fizzas’ when you go on holiday.


I know none of you really want to have a total wet blanket for a boyfriend, but I also know that you don’t want us to be totally tough all the time.  Or do you? How much do you want to hear about our feelings? I think my feelings are awkward and weird and I’m not really prepared to share them.  Should I just throw caution to the wind and share them anyway? What if you think my feelings are totally wrong?

I can’t speak for the entire female population (or at least not until I get that ruddy law passed), but personally I love a boy who’s in touch with his squishy side.  It’s loads better than one who’s so closed off you have to download 8 different PDF instruction manuals just to get him to mutter, “you’re alright”.  However, don’t let it become a weekly therapy session, I come from a “just get on with it family”, so am inclined to think wallowing is for wallys.  That said - a little lisping admission every now and then that you’re feeling a bit weepy is fine.  Come on - if anyone you care about has a problem you’re gonna want to talk them through it, unless of course their name is Lucy Charminda who spent the whole of year 11 pretending her dog was dying so the boys would give her cuddles and the girls would let her copy our French coursework.  So if you are Lucy Charminda post-op looking for a lay, you can fuck right off with your snotty tears and whiny problems.  Any other REAL boys, toddle right up for a cuddle.


How funny am I supposed to be and for how long? I make a nice quip here and there, but I’m no Bob Monkhouse (well, I think he was funny), aren’t you putting us under a lot of pressure expecting us to be funny all the time? What if someone dies and I’ve got to break it to you? Should I make a pun up so you’ll keep loving me?

I’ve been laughed into bed a shocking amount of times.  I am what is known in the business as “a giggle lay” (perhaps the word ‘business’ was a bad choice in that sentence…).  Anyway, I think most girls would agree that one of the sexiest attributes is the ability to make us wet our panties.  You know, that bent over, teary eyed, achy cheek shit.  However, I think I should also make it clear that funny only gets you so far, as generally speaking, it’s some sort of lame defense mechanism hippy parents read self-help books about.  In short - don’t worry about being Bob Monkhouse 24/7, but if you can pepper your intelligent and charming babble with the odd one liner, we’ll love it.


This one I’m worried about, cos I heard that girls like messy slackers they can fix up as well, so what’s the best move? Should I just get a nice suit and cut my hair, or should I stay at Art College and get covered in paint and live in a dirty squat? Maybe if I get a rich girl she’ll want to slum it, or she’ll expect me to fix myself up

Ugh god.  I hate the idea that there are girls out there who treat boys as their new Ken doll, scanning their ‘new man’ with a finger pressed to their lips, “Hmm…that hair will have to go, and OMG Claire, have you SEEN his fucking shoes?”  Your girlfriend is not your stylist or your mum - she should not be laying clothes out on the bed for you to wear on Sunday, or telling you that your nails require “neatening up”.  Why are you going out with someone who isn’t into the way you look?  Are you retarded? OH…is that why she’s dressing you? Look, if she says she likes a shirt, then maybe wear it on her birthday and point at it in that “Well…don’t I look nice? Eh, eh?” way, which is completely douchey but also really sweet.  But never demean yourself by putting ‘Fixer-upper’ on your Singles advert.  What are you? A fucking house?

lots of love,

Power Girl x

Turn over the page for a letter from some girl who thought it was a good idea to put her trust in some boy in our office…