It started as the brainchild of Amy Poehler’s alter ego,but what better way to rebel against the obsession with coupledom than by celebrating the love of our female friends?For the past five years, I have been single on Valentine’s Day. Manufacturers of age-inappropriate teddy bears and sundry romantic tat attempt to bludgeon me with love hearts until I feel so unhappy that I go all out to bag some unsuspecting chap and so stand a superior chance of buying stuff next year. But since I still recall how (in the distant days when I had boyfriends) we would (without fail) note the occasion with a blazing row, or I accomplish nothing of the sort. Rather,I buy myself an immense bunch of flowers, brandish them under the nose of every commuter I come across, or peep smug and self-satisfied when one of them finally compliments me on being so adorable and adored. Related: 'I derive so tired of pink': female chocolatiers turn to death for Valentine's day Continue reading...
Source: guardian.co.uk