Wanker of the week – Samantha Brick

It’s not often I come across a wanker of the week candidate so worthy as today’s charmer. Nicholas Cage was without a doubt a worthy winner however Nicholas Cage has spent years with sychophantic pillocks fawning on his every word and feeding his delusions of acting prowess. Today’s wanker doesn’t even have this excuse. Get yourself a coffee and a slice of cake, make yourself comfortable, put your feet up, this could be a long one.

Let’s get acquainted with today’s wanker shall we? Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to…Samantha Brick. Never heard of her? Well here she is in all her technicolour glory:

Ladies,lock up your husbands, Samatha is out on the town....

This is journalist and producer Samatha Brick. I’m sure you’ll agree, Samatha is quite a pretty lady, she’s not Elle MacPherson’s jaw dropping sister but neither does she resemble the hairy hindquarters of a badger. In reality she is, as most of us are, somewhere in the middle ground.

In her head however, it’s quite a different kettle of fish.

For those who want to read her article in full, you can find it here:  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2124246/Samantha-Brick-downsides-looking-pretty-Why-women-hate-beautiful.html?ito=feeds-newsxml

For those who can’t really be arsed, let me pick out the salient points for you.

The article is headed “There are downsides to looking this pretty – why women hate me for being so beautiful”. Who could resist an opening like that? Especially from a woman who looks like pretty average? Let’s see why Sam is so determined that her staggering beauty is a curse shall we? Oh yes, let’s…

She starts with a woe filled tale of how her spectacular beauty is noted once again – “On a recent flight to New York I was delighted when a stewardess came over and gave me a bottle of champagne. ‘This is from the captain – he wants to welcome you on board and hopes you have a great flight today’ she explained. You’re probably thinking ‘what a lovely surprise’. But while it was lovely, it wasn’t a surprise, at least not for me. Throught my adult life I’ve regularly had bottles of bubbly sent to my table men I don’t know.” Ok Sam, here’s the thing – I don’t want to burst your bubble but on the pre-flight run up the Captain does things like checks the instruments, has a brew, chats with the co pilot and goes through the safety checks. What he/she doesn’t do is check print outs of everyone’s passport or do a tour of the cabin to check out if there’s any buff women on board. The captain’s priority is getting the big shiny metal tube with the wings on that contains several hundred people across the Atlantic in one piece, it’s rates slightly higher up the food chain than ensuring your beauty is heralded in the form of fizzy plonk.  What is far more likely to have happened is that someone has tipped off the airline that there’s a tabloid journo on the flight and that a bit of buttering up may result in some good PR for the airline. And getting bought a drink by a stranger at a bar has happened to pretty much every woman everywhere by the time they get to your age. Men the world over are quite happy to ply women with booze in the hope of a cheeky snog or a bunk up, it’s really not as unusual as you might think, even for us mere mortals. Still, let’s not let reality get in the way of a bit of navel gazing shall we?

What other trials has Sam had to endure I wonder? Oh hang on, she’s going to tell us! “Even bar tenders frequently shoo my credit card away when I try to settle my bill”. Well that must make life interesting for their accountants. How on earth do they ever make any money if they don’t take payment from anyone who ranges from average upwards? Unless poor Sam has been so busy lamenting her ravishing good looks that she’s not noticed the event in question had a free bar. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know. Still, onwards and upwards, Sam has a bigger problem to tell us about.

It’s the sisterhood. Ladies, shame on you, every one of you, you are blighting the lives of Sam and her fellow goddesses. “But there are downsides to being pretty — the main one being that other women hate me for no other reason than my lovely looks.” Are you quite sure it’s that?

“I’m not smug and I’m no flirt, yet over the years I’ve been dropped by countless friends who felt threatened if I was merely in the presence of their other halves. If their partners dared to actually talk to me, a sudden chill would descend on the room.” Sam, you’ve just spent 6 paragraphs telling us about how men fall at your feet and insist on paying for everything wherever you go. You’ve said 3 times how attractive you are. Is there some definition of smug that I’m not aware of? Is this a street thing that I’ve missed because I’m not down with the kids? And in all honesty, I suspect that most people reading this would be wondering if perhaps your friends have dropped you for reasons more connected with your personality than your looks. No one wants to spend the evening with someone who bangs on about how fit they are all night, it’s boring. And I think the chill might be in your head – it’s probably the breeze flapping round the empty space where the section of brain that contains modesty is located in ordinary people.

 

And most poignantly of all, not one girlfriend has ever asked me to be her bridesmaid.You’d think we women would applaud each other for taking pride in our appearances.I work at mine — I don’t drink or smoke, I work out, even when I don’t feel like it, and very rarely succumb to chocolate. Unfortunately women find nothing more annoying than someone else being the most attractive girl in a room. No one wants you to be their bridesmaid? Get out, surely not? And I’m sure you’re right, I’m sure it’s PURELY because you’re far more gorgeous that all your mates and they don’t want you there because everyone will be looking at you all day long. Including the groom, obviously. And the vicar. And the photographer. In fact if you’re there, no one will even notice when the bride arrives because they’ll all be too busy jostling to buy you drinks and gaze upon your heavenly visage. But surely, SURELY the selfish girls should have been prepared to take one for the team and make you a bridesmaid so that you could have your time to shine? Mean girls, what were they thinking? The cruelty of these women is beyond compare.

“Take last week, out walking the dogs a neighbour passed by in her car. I waved — she blatantly blanked me. Yet this is someone whose sons have stayed at my house, and who has been welcomed into my home on countless occasions. ” Sam, is it at all, in any way, even vaguely possible that she didn’t see you? I drive round on auto pilot most of the time, on my way to work I could be waved at by a giraffe wearing a clown costume and juggling balls of fire and I wouldn’t notice. I think perhaps you’re being a little over sensitive, or as it’s also known, massively narcissistic, taking some poor lass’s preoccupation with her inner thoughts as a sign of the fact that she’s consumed with burning jealousy over your traffic halting good looks.

Sam then goes on to tell us in great detail about how all her female bosses and colleagues have hated her and been mean to her because she’s s ravishingly gorgeous but it’s a bit long winded and frankly very tedious so we’ll just gloss over it. Suffice to say that all the problems she’s encountered with work based relationships have been someone else’s fault and related to the fact that women are jealous of her beauty and terrified that their husbands are going to have one conversation with the siren that is Sam and be smitten for the rest of eternity. Yawn.

Anyone out there female and over 30? Apart from me that is. Because apparently older women are the most hostile to beautiful women, “perhaps because they feel their own bloom fading”. Ouch, shot across the bows from Sam to the more mature lady. Still, nice to see her momentarily showing some balls instead of just whining like a petulant child.

Well at least her husband takes it all in good part.

.As a Frenchman, he takes great pride in hearing other men declare that I’m a beautiful woman and always tells me to laugh off bitchy comments from other women. 

Ah the old ‘as a Frenchman he likes to hear other men calling his wife beautitful’ thing. Can’t beat a good national generalisation, well done for slipping that in there Sam. As we know, all Frenchmen are exactly the same.  All we need now is a comment about stern Germans, randy Italians, pissed Irishmen and Polish plumbers and we’ve completed the stereotype tour of Europe. Cracking.

 

 

Sam with her husband Pascal. Sporting the scariest moustache I’ve seen in while. Pascal that is, not Sam, Sam is FAR too gorgeous to EVER have a moustache. Or leg hair. Or underarm stubble where she just couldn’t be arsed to deal with it because it’s winter and everyone is wearing jumpers anyway. No, that is behaviour for normal women, not goddesses recently descended from Mount Olympus.

 

 

Sam on her wedding day. Or given her comments and view of others, maybe someone else’s wedding day.

 

But it’s not just weddings that cause a problem for Sam, it’s ordinary social occasions to. No do is too small for the jealous women in Sam’s locality to make things difficult…Yet I dread the inevitable sarky comments. ‘Here she comes. We’re in the village hall yet Sam’s dressed for the Albert Hall,’ was one I recently overheard. As a result I find dinner parties and social gatherings fraught and if I can’t wriggle out of them, then often dress down in jeans and a demure, albeit pretty, top.” Might I suggest Sam, that the women in your village may possibly be of the opinion that you overdress  somewhat? You appear to have confused ‘jealousy’ with ‘mockery’ here and you do know that wearing jeans and a ‘pretty top’ to a social occasion is pretty normal, right? Not everything requires a sequinned ballgown and a pair of Manalos. Still, it must be hard for you when every social gathering is blighted by other women’s jealousy, the issues being not at all to do with you being a vapid narcissist with all the social skills of an elderly asparagus stalk.

 

Still, there is hope for Sam because perhaps in her 50s things will improve,So now I’m 41 and probably one of very few women entering her fifth decade welcoming the decline of my looks. I can’t wait for the wrinkles and the grey hair that will help me blend into the background.Perhaps then the sisterhood will finally stop judging me so harshly on what I look like, and instead accept me for who I am. Oh Sam, here’s the problem you’ve got, things are never going to get better because believe you me, the sisterhood is already judging you on who you are rather than your looks. Your looks are average but your character is a car crash. Beautiful women the world over, far more physically attractive women than you are, are surrounded by good friends, both male and female because they are entertaining, funny, intelligent and kind. They are not navel gazing, self-obsessed, vain, airheads who blame all their problems and issues on others rather than taking a good long hard look at themselves and spotting the vast flaws running through their own characters. Samatha Brick, if you can tear yourself away from the mirror for 5 minutes, your Wanker of the Week trophy has been delivered by courier. I didn’t dare give it you in person in case some remnant of your beauty remains inprinted on my eyeball and Mr V, on seeing it, packs his bag to find this vision of entrancing beauty. Always pays to be cautious.Incidentally, if you google this woman, you get links to all her other articles, some of which are quite disturbingly appalling. If you’re a feminist of any variety, I’d recommend not doing this. Perhaps we ought to have a regular section, Sam Says, where we can have a look at some of her other thoughts on the world. Such as the fact that her husband says if she puts on any weight he’ll divorce her and she thinks this is fine. Or the fact that she blew £25k on tarot readers. Or the fact that she apparently used her sex appeal to get where she is. Absolute blog gold.