My James Bond Complex

If I were to flick back through the varied, wondrous and most tedious thoughts I had throughout my childhood and teenage years, I wonder if the most commonly occurring phrase would be, ‘I wish I was a man.’

I think it might be. (other than, 'Oh how I love I*** M*****' - he must remain anonymous in case he googles himself)

I have this thing - or at least used to, maybe I'm growing out of it - called The James Bond Complex.

In the James Bond movies there are always men dashing about doing interesting things, visiting interesting places, being witty, intelligent and debonair. I have always – even when very young – fancied being all of those things, but I realised that it was the man who got to be them. The women hung and clung about being thin and shimmery and lovely, waiting for James Bond to unzip them with his magnet watch and leave them languid amongst rumpled satin covers.

I'm sure my childhood was full of movies and TV that followed this same mould (The Jewel in the Nile, Indiana Jones, Star Wars, the list is endless)

As a child: I wanted to BE James Bond but realised fairly early on I never could be. I also knew I didn't want to be one of those Bond women either. They were ‘perfect’ women – sidelined, visually appealing, alluring – only sometimes allowed a little wit and only then usually a line like, ‘That’s what happens when you leave it to a man!’ or some other male-focused pretending-to-be-feminist comment.

I admired them because of the amount of time they put into their figures and their looks and their keeping quiet on important issues. Not because these were qualities I actually admired, but because they obviously had learnt the secret of being a successful woman in a Bond Movie. They had learnt how to shut up (unless it was one where there was an ultra masculine or aggressive woman who would either be a) ugly or b) uber-sexual.)

Yesterday I picked up a copy of Grazia magazine and was appalled at what counted as a magazine for a 'modern intelligent woman'. It was full of how to spend lots of money on clothes/make-up/shoes, how to stay thin, and the feature on the election was all about how fanciable the party leaders are.

Um, the point of this post is, do I have a chip on my shoulder, or is there a point somewhere in this? Why can't I let it lie?

(I'm all for dressing up and wearing make-up sometimes, but it's hardly even 1% of what I'm about or interested in....)