As a teen with big teeth and NHS specs, Janet Street Porter only got cards from her mum. 50 years on she still thinks: Valentine's Day? It's just for smug CREEPS! By Janet Street Porter
Today is the day I dread. Valentine’s Day is when the country is cruelly divided into winners and losers.
You can easily spot the winners — those smug creeps swanning around with a self-satisfied grin on their faces, like the cat that got the cream.
They’re the ones who have had flowers delivered to their office, or who already know they have been invited out for a 'special treat' this evening. The ones who got a hand-delivered card or present posted through their letterbox at dawn.
The ones whose partner proposed
to them on the train to work, or whose chap rented a billboard so the
whole world could share in their undying love.
Or the ones who awoke to find a saucy e-card had plopped into their in-box overnight. YUCK!
The rest of us — the so-called losers in love — will spend today superficially behaving as normal, acting as if we’ve better things to do than drink Prosecco and eat oysters by candlelight (pretending we’re going to our book clubs, have signed up for hot yoga or are meeting some friends for a pizza).
But deep down we’ll be experiencing that mixture of jealousy and impotent rage that only comes on Valentine’s Day — because we’ve been unfairly categorised as rejects, yet again.
Tossed on the stockpile of non-essential singletons. Destined never to rise to the dizzy heights of being an object of love, or even an object of fumbled lust.
I loathe the banality of Valentine’s Day, the horrible notion of designating one day in the year the occasion to declare our love for another person. It seems so arbitrary.
A fake 'celebration' exploited by greetings card manufacturers and florists.
You can easily spot the winners — those smug creeps swanning around with a self-satisfied grin on their faces, like the cat that got the cream.
They’re the ones who have had flowers delivered to their office, or who already know they have been invited out for a 'special treat' this evening. The ones who got a hand-delivered card or present posted through their letterbox at dawn.
Romance? No thanks! According to JSP, Valentine's Day is a celebration invented by the card companies
Or the ones who awoke to find a saucy e-card had plopped into their in-box overnight. YUCK!
The rest of us — the so-called losers in love — will spend today superficially behaving as normal, acting as if we’ve better things to do than drink Prosecco and eat oysters by candlelight (pretending we’re going to our book clubs, have signed up for hot yoga or are meeting some friends for a pizza).
But deep down we’ll be experiencing that mixture of jealousy and impotent rage that only comes on Valentine’s Day — because we’ve been unfairly categorised as rejects, yet again.
Tossed on the stockpile of non-essential singletons. Destined never to rise to the dizzy heights of being an object of love, or even an object of fumbled lust.
I loathe the banality of Valentine’s Day, the horrible notion of designating one day in the year the occasion to declare our love for another person. It seems so arbitrary.
A fake 'celebration' exploited by greetings card manufacturers and florists.
Schmalz: Janet can't stand the faux romance and cheap, mass produced Valentine's Day cards
