It’s always baffled me, the idea that somebody applying powder on the train has the potential to upset – I often have to clench my fists to avoid applauding the marvellous contouring work I see underground at 9am – and I still don’t quite believe it. Instead, I’m inclined to think there’s something darker at play...Well, of course you do. You only have a hammer, why wouldn't you see only nails?
This week, my favourite MP, Stella Creasy, persuaded the government to fund a review by the Law Commission into hate crimes – it’s the first time misogyny has been recognised as a form of hate requiring a legislative framework to address. And while the public transport issue she was talking about was harassment, such as taking photos up a person’s skirt, I feel there’s a thread between the two, a fine rope of disdain for women.Newsflash, love: I don't want to see a man putting on makeup on the Tube either!
...on my way to a meeting in town last week, I bought a jambon beurre from Pret a Manger, the most elegant of its offerings I’d argue, and indeed have, many times. It was around 2pm I think, and waiting on the train platform I propped myself against a wall and prepared to unwrap it. I was feeling slightly light-headed at this point, my body being one of those that requires a relentless routine of watering and refuelling, and while it’s not my regular choice of lunch spot, I needed to eat. I had the sandwich about an inch from my mouth when I was filled suddenly with a chalky kind of doom. I’d remembered the Facebook group Women Who Eat on Tubes, full of creep shots of unsuspecting women with their own frantic lunches, and then gently returned it to my bag.Oh! I get it now. You're mad.