Why it’s time to stop being ashamed of liking ‘girly’ things

As a child and teenager, I spent much time convincing boys that I didn’t like girly things. 

Barbie? Didn’t know her. Action Man? A bonafide legend. 

Pink? Disgusting. Blue? Just perfect. 

Dresses? I would have rather died than be seen in such a contraption. Tracksuits? Incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before. 

I talked about Manchester United as if I gave a crap when in reality, I couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting through 90 minutes of a football game. I pretended to like a boy’s taste in bad rappers, even though I knew the music was subpar. I tried to consume their favourite movies and TV shows in a feeble attempt to force them to like me even though all of it was sh*te. 

The sad thing is I had an innate understanding from an early age that ‘girl’ music, media and activities were not deemed cool. They weren’t high-brow or exciting or compelling. They were, and never would be, good enough. 

To be culturally conversant, I need to have watched The Godfather trilogy at least three times and understand the fragile nuances of sports and pints of Guinness. 

I spent years in this state of faking it, pretending to care when all I wanted to do was watch a romantic comedy and drink a glass of pink wine and gossip with my friends. Exhaustion isn’t a good enough descriptor to define this period of my life. 

Thankfully, the older I became, the less I wanted to pretend. As the years added up, I realised that being girly was a joyous activity. It made me feel good. It helped me communicate better with my female peers and connect with them more authentically. Whether it’s a new song or a book or a movie, there’s nothing more galvanising than being excited about something alongside other females. 

Girlhood

I was one of the lucky ones who attended Taylor Swift’s Eras tour at the Aviva and through the glassy haze of pre-concert pinto grigio, I became emotional and looking back, I don’t think it was the alcohol that made my tear ducts burst. 

Screaming ‘All Too Well’ at the top of my lungs, I realised I was holding the hand of my best friend. She too was in the middle of giving the performance of her life. We looked at each other and smiled and then we turned to the women behind us who joined us in a truly catastrophic version of Swift’s 10-minute hit. We could have killed a flock of Dublin’s most ferocious seagulls with our wailing but we didn’t care. It was a majestic moment where a group of women, complete strangers to one another, joined together to curse the men of our past. 

Swift’s concerts were a presentation of girlhood. While there were men dotted around the stadium, the majority of attendees were females. They were in pairs, in threes or larger groups. They cried and they laughed and they devoured every single lyric Swift performed. The more you delve into her catalogue, the more you realise the magic of her music isn’t in the melodies or the big pop hits. Instead, it’s her lyrics which speak to every experience a girl can encounter. From breakups to the strained years of adolescence to navigating adulthood, Swift writes plainly about the life of a woman. 

And men will never get it, but that’s okay. 

I’m happy that they cuss and fuss and ridicule our choices. We are part of an elite club and they will never be members. 

They will never know the joy of a group of women dressing up to go to the cinema to watch the first Sex and the City film. They will never understand the emotional complexities of being a Twilight fan and wishing for a vampire to show up in your small rural town at the age of 15. They will never know of the exhilaration and delirium of a One Direction or a Taylor Swift concert. They will never know what it’s like to have your inner child healed by the Barbie movie. Truthfully, I never want them to understand it. It’s just ours to keep. 

Powerful art

In the days leading up to the Taylor Swift concert, my own father started muttering about the fuss that was being made and how he didn’t ‘understand’ the hype. Having never listened to her music before, I told him his opinion didn’t really hold much substance. Then I went on a rant about how in years to come, she will be crowned the female Bob Dylan. 

A few years ago, I probably would have held back. I would have agreed with him because it was a man’s opinion on something culturally significant and my opinion wouldn’t hold any weight. Now, I know better. 

‘Girly’ art is powerful. It’s vivid and emotional. It’s awe-inspiring technicolour. And if Taylor Swift’s record-breaking Eras tour is anything to go by, it’s an extraordinary money maker too. 

Please, embrace all things pink, glittery, “foolish” and feminine and don’t be afraid to shout it from the rooftops.

Because men can keep their football and we’ll keep having all of the fun.