“Millie. Just admit it. You’re going on a date with Bradley Sanderson this weekend.”
The Monday blues have gone and now it’s Hashtag Help night. Lauren and I are just about to do another vlog (even though this makes my heart race). I also think Lauren might have realized that I’m finding the whole Bradley thing confusing. I’m not telling her that, though.
“It’s NOT a date, Loz. Like the last one was not a date. It’s a … meeting about how I can improve my marketing strategy.”
“Come on, Millie.” Lauren looks at me like she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “It’s seriously about YOU liking him. If you two had babies, they would be, like, the most clever, sensible babies in the world. They could be like … Mark Zuckerberg.”
I can’t handle this level of Lauren love talk, so I go factual instead. This is a great way to get her off her current track of randomness.
“Loz, did you know you can change your language to ‘Pirate’ on Facebook?”
This is old news, but I’ve hooked her in. We never use Facebook these days, so I could tell her anything. I can see Lauren’s brain has gone into serious overdrive.
“Really, Millie? Why?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “The point is that I’m not having babies with Bradley Sanderson. He’s got a girlfriend in the States who he’s never met.”
“But why would anyone want to talk like a pirate?” Lauren is in real brain pain now.
My slightly evil plan has worked. Lauren has been diverted by fact.
“Let’s get prepared and do the vlog.”
We spend the next two hours doing makeup, and it’s magnificent. One side of my face has Erin-based levels of cosmetic PERFECTION. On the other side, there is NOTHING. I look like a spoon but a spoon with a FANTASTIC POINT.
Lauren counts me in, and I go OFF!
“Hello! Millie Porter here with Hashtag Help! This time it’s ‘Hashtag Help Me Understand Feminism.’ Can I be a feminist and wear makeup? Well, I’ve done something a little bit special with the help of my BFF Lauren that I just want to share with you.
“I’ve done half my face like this…”
(I thrust my makeup-perfection side into the camera.)
“And half of it like this…”
(I show the entire world my bare face.)
“The point is that you can wear makeup, or not wear makeup. Both are great. YOU can do what you like. Feminism is not about eyeliner or what we look like. It is about us being judged on who we really are. It’s about us not getting treated differently because we are girls. It’s about us getting the same opportunities as men, whether we have smoky eyes or bare eyes. It’s about my granddad not assuming that I can cook because I’m female. I can’t, and I don’t want to. Well—I might want to when I’m older, but only because I might decide that I want to make something nice for ME that isn’t baked beans. And that’s the point—makeup is ABOUT DOING IT FOR YOU! Like making your lunch! You aren’t doing it to please men. They don’t even understand decent contouring. Generally.
“The world these days HAS evolved. Like dinosaurs. Well, not like dinosaurs, as they died out. Probably because they didn’t embrace feminism.
“Anyway, LOOK—basically, if you’re wearing makeup and having fun, brilliant. You’re a feminist.
“If you’re NOT wearing makeup and having fun, then congratulations. You’re a feminist, too!”
(At this point, I flash my face from side to side again, so everyone gets the full effect of the makeup.)
“Thank you. Leave any comments underneath. Hashtag Help me to help you! Loving your work!”
Lauren gives me a massive thumbs-up.
“Mills! That was really good. I mean, the bit about the dinosaurs was a little random, but it sort of worked. Perhaps it wasn’t a massive comet that wiped them out. Perhaps it was all the female stegosauruses killing off the male T. rexes in anger at their sexism, and it all just escalated and—”
“It was definitely a comet, Loz,” I say. “Let’s upload it. The world needs to see your makeup genius.” I can’t believe I’m just going for it.
Lauren stares at me. “Yes, the world does, Millie, but you do need to wash it off before your whole family thinks you’ve completely lost it.”
Yet again, we’ve done the sensible swap. What is happening to me?