Another rant from the hilarious Jessie Power...
If the cultivation of British drama Skins has not infected your life at some stage like a bad case of genital herpes, then it is my duty to inform you that you are living under a rather dark and desolate rock, my friend. At the helm of this cult-like following, (that I’m sure makes even Tom Cruise feel a bit queasy), is the worshipping of Effy Stonem: an illusive creature of which I can only describe as a satanic goddess of parties, pills and psychotic episodes. Girls, you’ve probably uttered the words, “I hate you” upon scowling at her bangin’ bod and luscious locks, before considering embracing lesbianism solely for her. Boys – well, I think one is able to allude to the kinds of activities that you have pursued whilst thinking about Effy Stonem.
However, it is important to remember that Effy is a literal freak of nature. When God created Effy, he must have got laid the night before, for she is the quintessential product of genetic flawlessness – a one-of-a-kind monument of human perfection that reminds us all that in comparison, we’re basically hags.
It is embarrassing and somewhat uncomfortable though, to watch the army of anorexic, lace-gloved chain smokers that have arisen from the desire to become living, breathing clones of Effy Stonem.
I’m sorry, but the reality is, just because you pop pills, party like it’s 1999 and look as though you’re in dire need of a steak, does not mean you resemble this God-like creature – it just means people may mistake you for an extra fresh off of the set of Twilight: how awkward!
Now, please do not send Christina Aguilera knocking on my doorstep to punch me in the head for refusing to regurgitate her infamous words of wisdom: “You are beautiful in every single way, yes words can’t bring you down!” For I am not saying that you are ugly. I’m just saying that in comparison to Effy Stonem you’re ugly – but that’s okay!
I have came to the ultimate conclusion that she is simply too perfect to be an earthling and is therefore an undercover spy from Pluto, wanting to know why the fuck we have shunned their tiny planet and not sent them a Christmas card since 2005. Consequently, you may stop feeling bad about the fact that you will never look like her by seeking comfort in the fact that beyond the exterior of porcelain skin and smokey eyes, she probably has green scales and a third eye, so it’s fine! Personally, I have taken a profound likening to Effy’s wacky co-star Pandora, whom shares a wide array of interests with myself such as doughnuts, pyjama parties and dancing like a 1980’s throwback.
My Mum always told me: “It’s so important to know who you are”. At first, I thought that perhaps the woman I had come to love unconditionally was in fact a moron, who believed that after all these years of stitching labels on my clothing, I might still be unsure what my name is. But now, I see that the old girl has a point. In hindsight, the likelihood of becoming as immaculately messed-up as Effy is about as probable as Osama Bin Laden becoming president of the United States, so please – put down the pills and pop some Vitamin C instead and for the love of God, please go and eat a fucking happy meal while you’re at it!
