I have always been a massive fan of a certain Mrs Knowles-Carter.
When I say fan, I mean mild obsessive.
I love her music, thinks she’s a beaut and periodically my mind wanders to what life would be like if it was like hers.
A while ago a song of hers came on my iPod when I was walking up Brixton Hill. Walking because I’d forgotten to top up my Oyster card. Walking in the rain because my New Look (£7!) umbrella had snapped. Listening to a dodgy limewire download of her song because 4 years ago iTunes was a luxury.
Momentarily I looked down at my rain soaked sale buy coat, wiping £10 mascara off my cheeks and thought ‘Beyoncé doesn’t have to deal with this shit’. Where was my umbrella holding, security guard? Where was my blacked out merc? WHY WAS I WALKING?
Then the lights of the chicken shop beamed across the road. I gleamed as I recalled the £5 note that petty cash had owed sitting in my pocket. I pushed the annoyance that I hadn’t realised this earlier on & paid for the bus to the back of my brain, and suddenly things seemed brighter. Walking my 2 piece and chips home I realised.
I do, in parts, have a better life than Beyoncé, and here is for why;
1. I can eat bread. My argument, in theory, could end right here.
2. I can spend my weekends how I please. I don’t have schedules that are planned years in advance. I don’t have someone booking my life for me. (Stops before saying ‘chance would be a fine thing’)
3. I can sing in the shower without immediate judgement. Dropping the odd
4. I can eat bread.
5. I can kiss people that are fundamentally less cool but more fundamentally so much more attractive than Jay Z. Well…on the whole. Everyone’s snogged a frog!
6. I can choose not to paint my nails or let my eyebrows take over my face should the mood take me. My untamed facial hair will never go viral.
7. I can go to Sainsbury’s alone. I can even go to Sainsbury’s in my jogging bottoms, or without a bra on. Never a combination of the two. I might not be Beyoncé, but I’ve still got standards.
8. Then there’s still the bread thing.
9. I can go out on a Friday night, drink my body weight in gin, have a chicken burger and fall into a can without every element of the evening, knicker flash and all, being spread round the wonderful world of social media. And no, my mate’s Instagram #jo’spantsareoutagain doesn’t count!