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How To Be A Woman

The Caitlin Moran book you really should have read by now.


After months of tweeting back and forth, praising Russell T Davies and arranging fictional encounters at Hampstead Mens’ Pond, we finally get to read Moran’s book, a modern day manifesto for N-th wave feminism. And contrary to your gut reaction, it made us LOL. Hard.

Out of nowhere, she hits you with a mental image so preposterous you would be inhuman not to shake with laughter and lose a grip on the book/electronic-book-simulator you’re holding. For us, it was a description of straight porn involving one of EastEnders’ Mitchel Brothers, and an anecdote featuring bats and red wine. Proper, on the tube, stare garnering, red-faced HONKING. On our own, in public. It’s a carriage clearer.

Though the subject matter is part autobiography, part sexism-spotting, it’s still a more than worthy read for our kind. Homophobia is a by-product of misogyny, and her bit-part gays and unbashed adoration for Gaga will keep you feeling catered for, even if you don’t want to learn how to be a woman.

And by the end of it all you will be so brainwashed by the thoughts of Moran that you’ll find yourself with an uncontrollable urge to go out and buy some yellow shoes.

Six pounds and eighty three pence! BARGAIN.

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