“PLEASE don’t think I’m refusing to engage with Valentine’s Day because I won’t be receiving any cards. It’s actually because it’s a massive pile of wank.
I hated it even more when I did have a boyfriend because then I had to play along with his attempts to celebrate what is essentially a capitalist’s particularly spunk-filled wet dream. I’d seem like a flint-hearted misery if I didn’t gaze at him with dewy-eyed adoration when he presented me with perfume that will never be used.
Being given lingerie was even worse. Anyone who essentially forces you into an unwanted bikini wax so you can dress up as a budget version of a Victoria’s Secret window display does not deserve your affection, on this or any other day.
And I’ve got no time for single people who moan about being on their own. If you have to mark the day, why not celebrate the joyous fact that you can watch a couple of episodes of Fargo in peace and then have a ‘sexy bath’ all to yourself.
Call me a cynical old harridan if you like, but Saint Valentine can shit off. “
