by Rae Earl
So that’s my honest vlog. But there’s no way I want to share all this with the rest of the world right now. Just with you and Dave the cat, who is currently halfway up the curtain, swinging from side to side. To her, a curtain is just a fabric playground. She’s probably only copying what Aunty Teresa has already done anyway.
#Makeover
“Millie. Just admit it. You’re going on a date with Bradley Sanderson this weekend.”
The Monday blues have gone and now it’s Hashtag Help night. Lauren and I are just about to do another vlog (even though this makes my heart race). I also think Lauren might have realized that I’m finding the whole Bradley thing confusing. I’m not telling her that, though.
“It’s NOT a date, Loz. Like the last one was not a date. It’s a … meeting about how I can improve my marketing strategy.”
“Come on, Millie.” Lauren looks at me like she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “It’s seriously about YOU liking him. If you two had babies, they would be, like, the most clever, sensible babies in the world. They could be like … Mark Zuckerberg.”
I can’t handle this level of Lauren love talk, so I go factual instead. This is a great way to get her off her current track of randomness.
“Loz, did you know you can change your language to ‘Pirate’ on Facebook?”
This is old news, but I’ve hooked her in. We never use Facebook these days, so I could tell her anything. I can see Lauren’s brain has gone into serious overdrive.
“Really, Millie? Why?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “The point is that I’m not having babies with Bradley Sanderson. He’s got a girlfriend in the States who he’s never met.”
“But why would anyone want to talk like a pirate?” Lauren is in real brain pain now.
My slightly evil plan has worked. Lauren has been diverted by fact.
“Let’s get prepared and do the vlog.”
We spend the next two hours doing makeup, and it’s magnificent. One side of my face has Erin-based levels of cosmetic PERFECTION. On the other side, there is NOTHING. I look like a spoon but a spoon with a FANTASTIC POINT.
Lauren counts me in, and I go OFF!
“Hello! Millie Porter here with Hashtag Help! This time it’s ‘Hashtag Help Me Understand Feminism.’ Can I be a feminist and wear makeup? Well, I’ve done something a little bit special with the help of my BFF Lauren that I just want to share with you.
“I’ve done half my face like this…”
(I thrust my makeup-perfection side into the camera.)
“And half of it like this…”
(I show the entire world my bare face.)
“The point is that you can wear makeup, or not wear makeup. Both are great. YOU can do what you like. Feminism is not about eyeliner or what we look like. It is about us being judged on who we really are. It’s about us not getting treated differently because we are girls. It’s about us getting the same opportunities as men, whether we have smoky eyes or bare eyes. It’s about my granddad not assuming that I can cook because I’m female. I can’t, and I don’t want to. Well—I might want to when I’m older, but only because I might decide that I want to make something nice for ME that isn’t baked beans. And that’s the point—makeup is ABOUT DOING IT FOR YOU! Like making your lunch! You aren’t doing it to please men. They don’t even understand decent contouring. Generally.
“The world these days HAS evolved. Like dinosaurs. Well, not like dinosaurs, as they died out. Probably because they didn’t embrace feminism.
“Anyway, LOOK—basically, if you’re wearing makeup and having fun, brilliant. You’re a feminist.
“If you’re NOT wearing makeup and having fun, then congratulations. You’re a feminist, too!”
(At this point, I flash my face from side to side again, so everyone gets the full effect of the makeup.)
“Thank you. Leave any comments underneath. Hashtag Help me to help you! Loving your work!”
Lauren gives me a massive thumbs-up.
“Mills! That was really good. I mean, the bit about the dinosaurs was a little random, but it sort of worked. Perhaps it wasn’t a massive comet that wiped them out. Perhaps it was all the female stegosauruses killing off the male T. rexes in anger at their sexism, and it all just escalated and—”
“It was definitely a comet, Loz,” I say. “Let’s upload it. The world needs to see your makeup genius.” I can’t believe I’m just going for it.
Lauren stares at me. “Yes, the world does, Millie, but you do need to wash it off before your whole family thinks you’ve completely lost it.”
Yet again, we’ve done the sensible swap. What is happening to me?
#Trolls
I wake up early the next day. It’s difficult sleeping at the moment because I can’t wait to look at what’s happened to the vlog. In fact, I do check it a few times in the night because the South American crew is a bit behind us time-wise and I just want to see if not speaking Spanish or Portuguese makes a difference to my message.
Who am I kidding? This is a fight for school subscribers—not for global supremacy.
The good news is … my subs are growing. Over three hundred. And I’ve had more than 452 views. Erin gave me the most excellent piece of advertising ever by having a major dig at me.
The bad news is … the comments. They are mainly horrible.
I have two pet dinosaurs that aren’t getting on. What do you suggest?
(Okay, actual LOL!)
Dweeb. Dog.
You think you’re cool. What you know? Dweeby Dog.
Cute idea! Nice vlog ☺
Of course feminism is about how you look! Please leave intelligent things to the grown-ups
I bet Germaine Greer and Caitlin Moran are quaking in their boots!
(I think this is sarcastic.)
Only ugly girls are feminists
(CAN YOU BELIEVE PEOPLE LIKE THIS EVEN EXIST?! TROLL!)
Offensive to REAL feminists
Ugly girl moans about men. Same old same old
You’re ugly whatever. Put bag over head!
Okay. That one does really, really get to me. I look in the mirror. No, I’m not Erin Breeler–standard (who is?), but I’m not ugly, either. And so what if I was?! It’s like what J. K. Rowling said—is fat (or, in this case, ugly) really the worst thing we can be? It’s not. It’s worse to be a nasty piece of work who goes out to make people feel horrible about themselves.
That isn’t what J. K. Rowling said exactly, by the way. She said it better, but …
Ugly?
It HURTS. And I can’t stop thinking about it. And the sensible side of me thinks it’s just some troll spreading the hate, but this HUGE side of me says that all this vlogging is a terrible idea and Mum is completely right and I’m completely wrong.
Why would you write that stuff? I mean, why would you go out to make someone feel bad about themselves when they have done nothing to you whatsoever?
I call Lauren first thing in the morning.
“Have you seen the comment that says I’m ugly?”
“Oh, Mills! That is TOTALLY just a troll. Look at all the other comments! There are some NICE comments on there, too. What would you say to me? ‘Don’t focus on the twonk! Look at all the other lovely twonkless things!’”
This is true. My sensible self is rebounding back onto me. “What should I do next, Loz?”
Lauren’s voice slightly collapses. “To be honest, Mills, I’ve got quite a lot to think about myself at the moment. After I got home last night, my dad accused my mum of fracking an entire cheesecake.”
I’m trying to make a great vlog and I need Lauren’s help, BUT what she’s saying makes no sense. I snap at her a bit. “Fracking as in when you mine for gas and stuff?”
“Yeah!” Lauren sighs sadly. “He said she ate it like an industrial process. He just knows what will really wind her up. The way she looks, the way she snores, the way she eats…”
I try to get her back on wha
t we were talking about: my vlog and me getting trolled into trolldom and beyond. We both know we can’t fix her parents.
“You realize what your biggest problem is, Millie? It’s Erin. Yesterday I heard from lovely Gracie that Erin’s thinking of launching a style vlog. If you ask me, that’s definitely a revenge vlog attack. Anyway, see you at school in a bit.”
As soon as I’m off the phone with Lauren, I check Erin’s Instagram. Sure enough, she’s posted the most gorgeous selfie ever with:
NEWS of an exciting new partnership with some people I KNOW you will love. Plus something you’ve always wanted! And I promise it’s not going to involve garden sheds;) It’s just going to be COMMITTED TO GORGEOUS #ComingSoon
Her friend Miranda has commented:
Can’t wait, E! Will make a change from some DULLSVILLE preachy channels;)
This feels like a war now. I don’t want it to be a war. I want it to be a peace. A big piece of peace. Perhaps Bradley will have some suggestions about what to do. There must be rival escalator vlogs that want to bring him down.
That wasn’t meant to be a bad up-down joke, by the way. Even though it was.
Sorry.
#Date
Meeting Bradley in the shopping center on Saturday, again, starts off sort of weirdly.
We meet by his favorite lift, and the first thing I notice is that he’s looking really good. And the fact that I think he looks good takes me by surprise. He’s got a Star Wars T-shirt on with a jacket, and it sort of works. “I was going to do the full cosplay Vader on you.” He smiles. “But I decided that committed dark side isn’t really your style.”
This makes me giggle. “The truth is, Bradley, if you want to turn up as FULL Jedi Knight, I don’t really care.”
Bradley sort of spins from side to side and laughs. “Surely you wouldn’t want me to be Yoda.”
“At least Yoda is wise,” I say. I like Yoda. I don’t know much about Star Wars, but I know he talks a lot of sense.
“So you’d prefer your men, Millie, to be two feet tall, old, green, and to talk in object-subject-verb word order?”
I stare at him hard. “I’ll be honest, Bradley. I don’t know what you mean.”
“Nor do I, really,” Bradley admits. “I looked it up on Wikipedia. I’ve noticed that if you tell people things you’ve read on Wikipedia with a really straight face, everyone thinks you’re really clever. For example, did you know that people with blue eyes are much more likely to have an accident involving trousers that don’t fit properly than people with brown eyes?”
“Really?” This is an amazing statistic and one I could use in a vlog. It’s good advice for getting dressed.
“It’s totally made up,” Bradley says. “I’ve also noticed that people believe everything I say because I’m a smart nerd with glasses.”
This is actually really quite funny. I laugh, and I see Bradley crack a tiny smile. It’s sweet.
“I’ll tell you what is true.” Bradley goes serious again. “More people die from taking selfies than are eaten by sharks.”
“Honestly?” I squeal. “Wow. What would happen if sharks got the ability to take selfies themselves?”
Bradley thinks hard. “I suppose fatalities would skyrocket. People would take selfies with sharks because it was cool and then they’d be eaten.”
This is the most bizarre conversation I’ve had in a very long time (and my BFF is Lauren), but I am really enjoying it.
Bradley and I go for a coffee. I let him pay this time. It’s only fair. And this time, he’s not mansplaining to me, either. It’s a conversation between equals. It’s …
Why am I being so defensive over Bradley?
Once we’ve sat down, I ask the question I really want to ask: “How often should I be uploading? I’ve done two vlogs in a week now.”
“You should upload as much as you want to. There is such a thing as too much, though. I do it every week. It builds up a bit of excitement, especially if I’m featuring a specialty piece of machinery.”
This conversation has gone odd. I feel like I can say anything to him, like I can with Lauren. My mouth ends up blurting out, “I’ve had a few people saying bad stuff. Like that I’m ugly.”
Bradley brushes my arm for a millisecond and says very gently, “That is trolling, Millie. I did warn you.”
And then it gets even MORE weird, so Bradley starts talking really quickly.
“But more to the point, you are funny and interesting and it’s something different from the endless girl stuff. I loved your last vlog. I am so OVER girl stuff. Pinky cheeks, eyebrows, princess castles. UNICORNS WITH GOLD-TINGED MANES—WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT?”
“You don’t have to watch it, Bradley,” I snap, glad to change the subject. “And a lot of girls don’t like it, either, AND even if we do—AND I DO A BIT—it’s not what we are all about. We can like what we like, anyway. There is no such thing as boy stuff or girl stuff! There is just STUFF!”
Bradley looks down. “Well, I’ve lost people I love to makeup. Like my American girlfriend. We were drifting apart, so I’ve decided we should probably call it a day. Better to do it before we met in real life. She was always a big cosplayer, and now she’s not so into the fun side of it. I don’t care about the sort of lipstick that Captain Marvel would wear. She can fly! She can shoot energy bursts from her hands! She can do hand-to-hand combat! I don’t think she is going to nip into Sephora in the middle of fighting evil and ask for a consultation.”
Bradley is angry. And also very funny.
“I’m sorry about your girlfriend.” I have to say something.
“Well, that’s the way it goes.” Bradley sighs. “Long-distance stuff is always hard. Anyway, you’re different. You understand that it’s not just about how you look. It’s BRAINS, too. BRAINS. I like brains. I like talking about stuff that’s actually interesting. Not just lifts but THE WORLD. I’m a feminist, you know.”
Bradley asks me really seriously, “Do you like flapjacks or cupcakes?”
This question catches me by surprise. It’s not often that you go from superheroes to sponges.
“Flapjacks.”
“I knew you would.” Bradley does the loveliest smile a lift-loving cosplay geek vlogger could ever do. “I knew you wouldn’t be taken in by all that icing. Now, you know what you should do in your next vlog? Talk about trolling and how to deal with it. Talk about how it made you feel. That’s REAL. Talk about the hard stuff, Millie.”
I am enjoying this afternoon far more than I thought I would. I knew I’d get a lot from it in a professional way, but I didn’t expect to get into random conversations about long-distance relationships, the way people change, and cupcakes. It’s all very natural and easy and …
#FlapjackGeekLove
That night starts with a Lauren love conspiracy theory.
“You are SO in love with Bradley Sanderson, it’s not even true.”
I’ve told her about my afternoon at the shopping center, and her response is very predictable.
“Lauren, this is going to shock you, but it is possible to be with a boy and not snog him. But he was lovely. He’s funny. He was talking about sharks and what would happen if they got cell phones!”
Lauren stays quiet.
I try to explain a bit more. “Yes, you had to be there, but he’s sweet and he looked really good. Nice jacket. A Star Wars shirt that actually he—”
Lauren interrupts, “Millie—I’m sorry, but this man is in love with you. You’re so vlog-obsessed these days that you can’t see the OBVIOUS that’s right in front of your eyes. Well, if you don’t fancy him, you should be careful not to go all Erin about him and lead him on.”
This feels rather like Lauren is attacking me, so without thinking, I blurt out, “Lauren. He is NOT in love with me. He’s no more in love with me than Danny is, so get that STRAIGHT out of your head!”
This is very snappy for me, and I feel nervous. Lauren and I, we don’t really argue. I think we can both sense
that it’s getting a bit heavy. There’s a pause. I’m worried about what she is going to say next. Even the thought of a fight with Lauren makes me want to throw up.
Then Lauren says, “Are you going cosplay on me? I don’t mind, but if you are, can you warn me? Because if I come around here and you’re dressed up like something from The Walking Dead, it could properly freak me out.”
This makes me smile. This is classic Lauren.
“Why would I go zombie on you, Loz?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I just have seriously bad zombie nightmares. HASHTAG that time my dad dressed up for Halloween and took the barbecue-sauce-over-his-head thing a bit too far. Even now, any hint of a chipotle dressing and I am seriously feeling vom. Anyway, you are now going out with a cosplayer—”
“I’m not!” I yell. “He’s just my … media advisor!”
And we both collapse laughing at this, because clearly I am not a massive celebrity vlogger and I do not need any sort of advisor in anything.
While we giggle, Bradley direct messages me.
Thank you for giving me your time today. Can we do it again soon? We can discuss how to stop aquatic predators with very sharp teeth getting hold of the latest technology. Imagine sharks with Tasers. B
Bradley uses the kind of words I use, and he’s very clever.
Lauren asks me who’s messaged me. I lie and say Gracie. I have to. It would get too complicated otherwise.
“Let’s do a vlog in a bit, Loz. Why don’t you stay over?”
After my time with Bradley, I’m totally fired up about doing another vlog. He’s RIGHT. Focus on the followers. Tackle the trolls.
Lauren looks really pleased. “Great idea, Mills! I’ll just call my mum and tell her I’ll be spending the night here. To be honest, I don’t think she’ll notice, but you never know! Meet you in Hashtag Help Global HQ.”
This is a very sweet way of describing Granddad’s ever so slightly moldy shed.
#Kebab
I skip down to the shed to find Granddad is just closing the door. He’s carrying an old jam jar full of nails. He has lots of these. They are a bit like his pieces of wood. He never seems to use them.
