bachelorettes & bourjois

Having lived in the UK's number one (and one of Europe's top 10) destination for hen parties for the last 4 years, I am sad to say the honeymoon period where you find drunk women wearing a random array of ill fitting costumes and penis paraphernalia funny, has sort of ended.

I must say, the middle aged slutty disney princess parade was a laugh, but I felt bad they were so cold, wearing so little, and had accidentally stumbled into the strip club soho block of town where they might have been mistaken as staff.

Now, I've never really been offended by theae gatherings (I bet it's probably pretty fun actually, with the right mind set), but getting dolled up to go catcalling and clubbing it's not really my cup of tea on a random tuesday evening, no matter what we are celebrating.

But that is beside the point. The question that is on my mind today gentle reader is- why do women assume all other women enjoy this sort of wild, girly, raunchy activity? It's one of these stereotypes - like we all want to bitch about how our boyfriends and husbands give bad head or want to oogle calvin klien models and george clooney.

I don't mean these might not be true for lots of people, lots of the time (he is very pretty jennie, I know). But why is it naturally branded into my consciousness because of my gender?

Of all the women I have known who throw or attend these parties, no one ever asked the bride much less the guests if they are comfortable with the donning of a penis (there is totally a greek myth geek joke in there somewhere) and screaming in pink fire engines.

It's sort of like in college where it's impossible to imagine someone who wouldn't enjoy being shitfaced, and teetotalers make you feel weird. It's an almost backward peer pressure - where no one coerced you, they just naturally expected you'd want to.

And today, I am a little baffled on how we got here as a culture. Assumptions defining our social interaction to a point where in certain instances, no one even asks 'what do you want to do' anymore.

I heard once about a friend's husband on a business trip and went out for drinks one evening. After, his colleagues were all shocked he didn't want to go to a strip club and meet hookers, and they just went without him. He went home, dazed at the weirdness, and called his wife.

It's fucking strange. And for the record: I never want to wear a bridal veil in a sports bar, do body shots off a waiter, be taught how to give a blow job in my living room or eat a lollipop with 'nads.

Of course, if you want to, I'll go ahead and give it a shot as a chum - and if it's awesome all the better - but in case I ever get married, as is the catch phrase of the week in the media, "not in my name" please.


ps - Yes, this thought experiment was prompted by my sister's forth coming nuptuals, but the activities in question are unrealted, so don't expect this to bare any resemblance to our real lives or pass any judgement on anyone involved - I'm just playing curious.