We all pretty much know that Valentine’s Day is hokey, if indeed hokey is a word one can use outside of the 1950’s. It’s totally invented by marketing, it puts a load of pressure on people whether they’re in a relationship or not, and it leads to an avalanche of cheap, red tat that ends up in landfill by March. You only have to look at a seasonal Ann Summers window to sum up that Valentine’s Day is the holiday equivalent of 50 Shades of Grey: devoid of meaning, less fun than it should be, and generally uncomfortable for everyone.
That said, it is essentially a festival of lingerie: and for that there is a small part of my heart that loves Valentine’s, and a totally legitimate excuse to collect together a few romantic (though definitely not not red) treats for the season. They’re not always G+ options to be fair, but when can a girl fantasise if not on V-Day?
Alas, desensitised to truly cracking lingerie after nearly three years of living with a lingerie blogger, Mr B4J will no doubt be indifferent to the lacy plans I have for myself: after a rich diet of frills and french lace I suspect he’d just like a night off with a three pack of white M&S knickers. Forget 50 Shades of Grey: now that’s pervy.
[As an aside, if you’re shopping for a Valentine’s gift for someone else follow this guide to buying lingerie for a partner: simply dial up the sexy as appropriate. My position on itchy fabrics stands firm.]