April 02, 2013

learnings from my 2004 diary.

diary

Looks like fourteen-year-old me thought girls with dodgy highlights were role models. Thank god that’s changed.

Right. I’m going in. I am currently staring at my diary from 2004 (I am 14 years old inside this diary). I remember 14 being an age where I found myself wanting to be taken VERY SERIOUSLY. Every thing was unfunny as I was trying desperately to be understood. Thank god I let my guarded personality loosen up a year or two later, but geez, it seems life was oh so terrible during this teenage period. It’s like #firstworldproblems all over again. Ironically I am finding this diary hysterical as I imagine my weird little brain whirring around, probably stabbing the biro into the page whilst rambling on and on.

This diary is an unattractive silver hard-back journal from WHSmith that is breaking at the seams and as I hold it, I actually fear for what I might find. It doesn’t have a positive aura, this diary. What surrounds it is pure angst, awkwardness and utter confusion. It’s a big ‘HUH’ question mark. “WHO AM I??” it screams. “You know your name and that’s about it! ha ha ha”. I shouldn’t be scared of it, but I am. I’m not quite brave enough to release excerpts in to the public arena I’m afraid (one day, one day) but I thought I’d list some quick findings and short quotes I found out about what my 14 year old self was into…..

– I am already thinking about diets: In the opening page of this 14-year-old-brain-book I have written “Don’t do crisps today. Go for energy-boosting, heart-friendly apples or banana’s instead”. Alright, Gillian McKeith, calm down.

Teen horoscopes had subliminal advertising in them: Here is my horoscope from 2004: “Variety is your buzzword, even when you’re going for indulgence. Stave off boredom and keep yourself entertained with a big bag of colourful Cadbury Mini-eggs (78p for 100p).” (If this diary tells us anything, it’s that the price of Mini-eggs has slyly increased over the years).

– I created a double page collage of models faces (see above): A huge collage of models (normally the ones you find it ‘hair magazines’ you know the ones – fabulous cheek bones and dodgy highlights.) I managed to get trigger happy with some Pritstick and cram as many perfectly sculpted women as I physically could on the dog-eared pages. In between these cut-out photos are words from magazines “pretty, “beauty”, “perfect” that I stamped everywhere. DEAR LORD.

– I talk for the first 10 pages about wanting a boyfriend: Then I get a boyfriend. And dump him within a day because “he didn’t talk much”.. A week later my diary entry begins: “Still no boyfriend”. Make up your mind, love.

– Some Spanish exchange kids from school come to my house for a tea party: Here is an excerpt: “All the spanish peeps came over today. At first it was just the girls (Marina, Eva, Rebecca) which was nice. Then the boys came and omg they all think I fancy Antonio just because I said he was a nice guy. They want me to get off with him on Friday. How about no. So then Fernando decided to invite Antonio over. so awkward but it was okay because we just sat there and watched Freaky Friday in Spanish.”

My role models are (judging by the cut-outs): Gwen Stefani and Audrey Hepburn. And Pink. Remember her? I don’t think she gets enough pats on the back actually. Remember the song ‘Stupid Girls’ about saying no to bulimia and telling boys who don’t call you to bog off? She was kind of like our 90’s pop version of Caitlin Moran.

My mood swings are hilarious:

Page 21: “Doing crap in school. Can’t get a moments peace at home with Jo (my sister) and Marina (the Spanish girl). Everyone is pressuring me to do well in my GCSEs. I need a bath. Bye.”

Page 22:  “I take back yesterday’s note. I’ve listened to some lyrics that really speak to me. Goodnight, diary.”

Advice from magazine columns were rather sensible: Here’s an example of one. I think from Mizz magazine: “New boyfriend + contract mobile phone = huge bills from long late-night calls. Get on that MSN, girl!

All the friends I mention in my diary I am still great friends with now. This makes me very happy indeed.

More (longer) excerpts to come. When I’m feeling braver. _

  • This is great! I wish I was this brave!

    I recently came across my collection of old diaries, in one (aged about 11) I spent three pages describing the ocean, how it “looked like white lace on blue velvet”. How poetic of me haha!

    xo

  • Love this! Finding old diaries is probably one of the funniest and most horrifying experiences ever!

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