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Dec. 28, 2009 I’ll let you into a little secret. Women have a love-hate relationship with their best friends. It’s not all Sex in the City. Cosy talks about men and money. We don’t dress up for men, but for other women. It’s all about one up-man ship. We have to have the best hair style, the best dress, the perfect accessories, and the best job, with a salary to make a lesser mortal blush. It’s the Keeping Up Appearances Complex. Our friends, neighbours and acquaintances have to know that we have a lifestyle they should be envious of. Entertaining your girlfriends has become an art in itself. You have to shop at the designer Home stores; your clothes must be the right designer brand to stay chummy with the Fashionistas and Socialites. If there is even a sniff of slipping down the social ladder, from their powdered, pampered noses you will be ostracised from their strictly suave community. However, whilst they may seem shallow but harmless, it is like pitting two prize bulls against each other, and seeing which one wins. Neither will give in, each will persevere with fierce determination. Once one bull is down, it will simmer with hostility and envy. From that moment on, the injured bull will devise ways to regain its pride. Then begins a battle of epic proportions, suitable for a gladiatorial battle. Your other girlfriends cheer on like a baying blood thirsty crowd, waiting for the inevitable fireworks. The moment is awkward. Heated. You have only two options: Fight for survival, or Fly with the wind. You decide to stand your ground because you are in the right. A stand-off ensues, and you part ways with catty remarks and enough hissing to shame street cats. One minute you are excited about a party you will be hosting, discussing party frocks, eyeing up accessories, and the next, falling out. You air your grievances to mutual friends, suspecting that you will end up plain at your own party, and the milk float of gossip does the rounds. A game of Chinese Whispers becomes the order of the day. You hate that your best friend blatantly disregarded your feelings about the dress you had you had your eye on, or the guy you wanted to date, but she made a beeline for after you told her explicitly not to flirt with him. You sulk and scheme. How can you get some red wine all over her? Can you tell the guy that she is married to scupper their chances? Or is that breaking the sacred Friend Code? But she was there for you when you had a rant about your work colleagues. And when you decided to rage against your boyfriend ignoring your pleas to leave the seat down, and put the shelves up. She turned up with ice-cream at midnight on your doorstep. How can she be so kind one minute, and then your worst enemy in the space of a few minutes? But we believe we have to keep her as a friend. We’ve told her our deepest darkest secrets. She knows who we have a girl crush on. She knows our most embarrassing moments. She has photographic evidence of your clothes malfunctions ready to whip out to show your new boyfriend.
Yet despite these annoyances, you both have a grudging respect for each other. Despite all these problems, tit for tat spats, and cat fights galore, you still remain friends. I guess it can be handbags at dawn, and then make-up martinis later to make up for your break up.
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