Are you even a Manc’ girl if you don’t smother your skin in St Moritz at some point in your life and wake up smelling of biscuits every morning.
Or if you’ve never smothered your face with Laval ‘foundation’ – I’m pretty sure it wasn’t foundation, it was definitely orange cement with a hint of grandmas perfume.
And the accent! Holy shit why was I born with such a common gob?
Do you even have a best friend if you don’t wanna smack her 3 times a day?
What about your friends parents that love you more than they love their own children?
Did you spend your early teenage years wearing fluorescent tutus from duty free in the Arndale, with the leg warmers and earrings to match?
Are you even a manc girl if you didn’t spend your weekends sharing a quarter bottle on the park with your mates?
Do you remember the days when Shout was actually a pretty nice shop facing The Piccadilly pub and then it moved to the Arndale and sold market stuff for a tenner?
Do you remember when we all used to dye our hair red or bright purple (I did both, what a dick head!)
And the days when we would play knock a door run or kerby!!!
Are you even a manc’ girl if older women didn’t used to say to you ‘ooo youll feel that cold when you’re older” because you’d walk around showing off your cute new top and the rain wasn’t going to stop you… well pissing hell Ethel was right wasn’t she?
Do you sometimes forget you’re not one of the lads and end up calling your mates ‘lad, pal, mate, r kid?’
Oh and council teas were the best. Fish fingers, chips and beans or sausage mash and gravy!
Of course you owned a Jane norman bag, but did you actually ever shop there? Course you didn’t!
Are you even a Manc girl if you didn’t wear Pink blusher in high school at some point. worst make up trend ever!
And the crop top, joggers and military boots era? ohhh dear ladies!
Did you ever spend half an hour inputting the codes to change the colour of your MSN name which was usually an Ndubz lyric?
Or change your BBM Picture to a black screen and your bio to a full stop to let everybody know that you’re in a grump..
And I know for a fact that you all used to spend hours on stardoll.com dressing up your fave celebs!
Manchester is a crazy place. It’s one giant community that I am so proud to be a part of. We might have a bloke-ish accent, and we might like a good chip barm (or muffin, don’t be at it) but I honestly think that we’re a good bunch overall! We have culture and kindness and passion and good food! And I bet our school memories shit on those of an essex girl! They might be ‘reem’ but did they ever wear headbands with flowers bigger than their heads?
To the girls that I grew up with – the ones that lived on the same estate as me, the ones that I danced with in my Primary school discos, the ones that I moved up to high school with and blossomed into a pink blusher wearing, bright bow socked, food fighting Jane Norman rep. To the girls that I went out with on my first night out to town and in rubbish pubs when i was only 14 (thanks to our Genna and her passport that looked piss all like me!). To the girls that have drifted off to have their own families, and to university and moving abroad (Courtney you little cow!) I still love all of you and I hope you’re all happy and loving life!
Love to all of my fellow manc girls! stay fabulous, you da bomb.