Yes, Peaches Teaches! The worst agony aunt column EVER in the history of EVER. And oh my god! Agony aunts in general are awful. But really, truly there’s nothing like seeking advice from PEACHES GELDOF. Never mind that I don’t believe anyone really sends their problems to Peaches Teaches. I refuse to believe anyone is that stupid. It would destroy my faith humanity. Period. I have to believe that all the ‘problems’ are made up by the ES magazine interns (poor things, talk about literary death sentence). My friend used to work at Sugar and tells me this is what they did there, which to be honest, slightly broke my 12 year old self’s heart. Anyway, I digress…
Peaches Teaches has been around since May but I have somehow managed to blinker it out from my world – a simple act of self-preservation, clearly. Anyway, now I feel strong enough to confront it (apologies if you’re not there yet). So lets read a little extract shall we! And lets have a picture of the wise one herself. Just for context, so we don’t go about forgetting the woman behind the words…
Wonderful, it’s like staring at my own personal guru (my guru clearly wears a bowler hat). Ok, impart your knowledge guru. We’re ready!
Q I’ve been a brunette my whole life and I am desperate to go blonde but lacking in courage. One of my friends has suggested I buy a wig and try it out first. Do you know a good shop where I could try some on? Thanks.
A Weirdly enough, shopping for wigs is not at the top of my day-to-day to-do list. I find them far too Elton John-meets-Britney circa the breakdown to be appealing. Though your friend is right, it’s better to try on a wig and see how being blonde suits your skin tone and look rather than dyeing it and ending up resembling a washed-out, frazzled poodle. Going for a much lighter tone than your natural one can be hit or miss, it either looks amazing or terrible.
I remember my sister Pixie trying on wigs for a fancy-dress party in Selfridges once and the store has some pretty realistic ones. Otherwise try the Afro hair shops in Dalston: whenever I pass them I spy blonde treasures glinting at me through the windows.
I was totally kidding myself. I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH. I never will be.
Dear Peaches,
I recently suffered a breakdown as a result of reading your agony aunt page. It was so badly written and so terribly executed, I simply couldn’t handle the mental and emotional strain of knowing you were paid to pretend to have some therapeutic qualities and knowledge when clearly that is just impossible. And your accompanying picture, oh my god, WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT HAT? Seriously, why? I’m lost. Please help.
dazed and confused, London
PS. You could help by quitting the public eye in general. This would help me – and humanity at large – enormously.
*** Please note, it took a lot of willpower to categorise this post under literature when really it should have been categorised under BULLSHIT***
Post a Comment