When asked to write a piece on Valentine’s Day, instinctively I began to pen something, slagging off this whole pile of shit day because I'm single and the most recent Valentines I got was two years ago from my boyfriend of seven years who had simply, folded up a piece of A4 paper, scrawled a heart in biro accompanied by the caption "Love U" and drawn a huge question mark on the inside. In fact the height of my valentines experience to date has taken the form of a King Size Twix presented to me in Year Three by an admirer named Matty C (there were four Matthews in class 3A I was hoping for Matty T but beggars can't be choosers). I'm sure you'll agree both displayed romance at its very best. So naturally, even though my heart still flutters when I spy a Twix of the King Size variety, I do have a tendency to moan about the commercialised bollocks that is the 14th of February.
In truth I whinge throughout the majority of the month until it reaches the 27th (my birthday… I favour Laduree macarons and Hendricks gin if you care to buy me a present) when I don't have to rely on anyone fancying me to give me a card and I allow myself to eat chocolate for breakfast (a tradition dating back to my seventeenth year and as yet unbroken).
This year, however, I choose not to be bitter… Admittedly this comes after daydreaming about throwing a massive strop in my local Tesco Express, in which I trash the displays, screaming, before scoffing all the themed chocolates in a sulk on the floor without paying for them. I've decided, rather maturely, I'm not going to moan about all the vulgar, oversized teddies in the shops. I shan't bitch about the smug couples on Facebook, posting pictures of said teddies and flowers. I will resist allowing pangs of jealously to strike when friends send me pictures of a bed in a five star hotel, dressed in crisp white linen, adorned with rose petals, shortly to be destroyed by hours upon hours of passionate shagging.
No, this year I'm going to rejoice in the day that scams us all out of pocket with overpriced flowers and chocolates. The day in which we all try and con ourselves into thinking we won't argue over the bill for a candlelit dinner. The day we pin all hope upon, praying we may actually achieve a satisfying orgasm with the man who is yet to find our clitoris or a partner that only likes the missionary position and finds oral sex “icky”.
This year I will support the loved up couples, the 20 year marriages keeping the spark alive, those still in the honeymoon period and the desperados who have signed up to POF and/or Tinder in a bid to snare a Valentine at the very last minute. I will look upon these couples and smile because really, what fun is it being bitter? I mean sure, I will be sat at home, eating a curry and downing an entire bottle of gin whilst googling Jennifer Lawrence's diet and fitness regime, but doesn't mean everyone else should suffer me scowling at them whilst they try to enjoy a day of romance.
So in support of a time that can inspire even the most useless partner/admirer to be creative in their affections (I am not referring to the sheer delight that was the afore mentioned biro and A4 offering) I will share one piece of advice which will ensure you are equipped to handle any valentine treat. A teeny, but incredibly useful bit of knowledge that was given to be a by wise old sage I once did work experience with in Miss Selfridge. A teaching I've not yet had the opportunity to use myself, yet selflessly, I pass the torch: Purchase an oversized handbag. It may sound silly, but below is a guide to finding the perfect bag for the occasion, what to pack and the reasons why such a purchase will carry you through any Valentine’s date.
• Size is key: It should be both large enough to double up as a weekend bag in case they surprise you with a mini break to Paris and small enough to be disguised as a handbag if all they have up their sleeve is Pizza Express vouchers and a cock ring. It will be embarrassing to lug a suitcase into a restaurant and explain you'd hoped for a something slightly more than garlic dough balls. It could also seem a bit ungrateful… Personally I love a dough ball and at least you're getting fed.
• It should have a discreet compartment to contain your underwear (both slutty and daytime as it is important to spice it up for the sex but equally to be comfortable for long walks along the Seine… No one likes a knicker sandwich when wearing Chantilly lace).
• Space to pack flat/sensible shoes. This could be for exploring a romantic city by foot or being able to deal with an outdoorsy beau whose idea of the perfect date would involve hiking or ploughing through the streets of London on a Boris bike.
• Room to carry a healthy supply of face and deodorising wipes to deal with outdoorsy dates or the morning after. Whether you are getting shagged senseless leaving you with mascara down your face, or working up a sweat doing a couples spin class to power ballads these will come in handy. Face wipes will also save you if you have to run off to the loo crying because they have failed to buy you anything, take you anywhere or simply forgotten you exist (in the case of the latter simply ram face wipes down partners throat before dumping them).
• Secure Passport pocket. Obviously this is essential if you suspect they are whisking you away. If they don't and happen to spy your passport, simply explain, owing to your youthful looks you are often required to present ID and don't want to miss out on any potential alcohol, nightlife or sex clubs.
• Pack a versatile top to take you from day to night or biking to brunch.
• Bag should have pouches designed for keys but to be used for gin/vodka miniatures. You may get bored. You may need to get drunk. A pouch will separate the booze from your pricey pants and bras… Although it may prove useful wrapping bottles in a pair of pants to soundproof, preventing any bottle clinking noises.
• Finally a vibrator. Yes it may sound crude but just because you got a heart shaped box of Thornton's does not mean your lover is going to miraculously turn into a god of sex. You've dressed up, put an uncomfortable bra on and had a wax… Why shouldn't you guarantee yourself some enjoyment? On a side note be sure to remove batteries from vibrator to avoid awkward scenario of it switching itself on after being squashed down into the confines of your bag by the ridiculous fucking teddy bear your valentine has bought you.
Alex Neve is an actress/stand up with big love for pesto, gin and anything that will make her bottom appear smaller and slightly firmer. She can do a forward roll (returning to stand) and once directed Geri Halliwell to the Hermes section in Harrods. Her goal this year is to achieve her childhood dream – successfully cross monkey bars. Her personal best to date is bar two. You can follow her on Twitter HERE.
Pictured: An example of an overpacked bag for a Pizza Express date, Alex Neve
