Skip to main content

Peer Pressure - Loose Blogging Consortium Post

I apologize to my fellow LBC bloggers for posting late on this one.

When I discovered the title for this week's post, I was flooded with ideas.  But if I used those ideas, the post would be extremely long.  Long blog posts are not desirable nowadays for a variety of reasons.  We live in a fast moving world and no-one has much time.  So I'll write about how peer pressure affected me.

Firstly, I wasn't really accepted by my peers initially.  I was an odd sort of kid.  I didn't fit in.  I wasn't a young one who played much on the streets.  I was always at home, nose stuck in a book.  I even talked like the people in books (usually Enid Blyton English kids).  So it took me a while to fit in.  I went through the usual agonies of self-consciousness and the longing to be like everyone else.  It wasn't much fun being the girl who nobody wanted to sit beside on the school bus trip.  It wasn't because I wasn't liked, more that I didn't belong to any gang or have a best friend.   The years went by.  I got to the stage where I didn't mind not having someone to sit beside me on the school bus trip.  I could read my book in peace.  But slowly, gradually, I made friends and had quite a few nice ones I must say.  Some of the friends I made in my schooldays are still friends today (Pauline, are  you reading this?).

But the question is, did I experience peer pressure?  Well, sort of.  Some of my peers were going out dancing and all of that while we were all still at school.  I wasn't really cool or fashionable that way.  So I didn't even try to be.  I grew up in the punk/disco era in the seventies.  One of the girls in my class even came to school with pink hair one day.  She wasn't noticed though because all the teachers were at a meeting.  It must have been a wash out colour because her hair was back to normal the next day.   Well, even though I liked the punk and ska music, I happened to like disco too.  And rock.  And everything.  So I didn't go for the pink hair and safety pin look.  No!  I was more into the flower power era and wore long caftans.  Denim jackets and tons of eyeliner(sometimes).  Of course I thought I was gorgeous.  The fact that I wasn't a fashionable girl didn't even occur to me. I had to dress up for the office sometimes in imitation Chanel (the style suited my build, but I couldn't afford the real thing).  I rather liked those collarless jackets with the gold buttons.  I thought they were quite unfussy and nice.   I liked myself no end. Especially when I was dressed up in my off duty gear.  When I was, completing the look, there was usually this huge bag containing all the books I was reading and all the magazines and all the newspapers.  I was still mad into reading.  I like music, so I used to drag a Walkman around.

It's so strange that I ended up marrying a man who doesn't like to see me carrying a handbag.  An Irish woman's handbag is one of her most valued accessories. It's a great weapon too.   'Leave all that rubbish at home,' he says, when we go out together.  Well, when we go out together, which admittedly isn't often, I usually do what he says.  Keep him happy, that's the secret.

Peer pressure?  Well, it's a useful barometer to find out how cool and up to date you are.  But I never let it bother me much.  I've always done my own thing.  Whatever that is!

This turned out to be quite a long post.  Sorry about that and if you've continued reading until the end, thanks!


  1. Did you have one shoulder lower than the other from all that weight in your bag? ;)

    Welcome back.

  2. That is an amazing story. I have of course known some kids like that, with their noses in books and living in a dream world, but to the best of my knowledge, none of them took such a leap of faith and married outside the country and that too in the equivalent of the boondocks. I could not put any pressure on any of them to do the wild things that I did!

  3. I was shy as a child, and had difficulty making friends too. I didn't wear stylish clothing, and I really think that affected whether or not the other children accepted me. Lucky for me, I found two girls who lived near me, and we became friends. That was enough for me, and they never put any pressure on me to dress a certain way, or act a certain way. Maybe that helped me, because I learned to ignore what the other kids wanted.

  4. Presumably tou do what other Irish women do when they discard their handbags - give the contents to their partner to carry...
    Just take these keys for me, and these keys, and this money, and... and...
    And, you really shouldn't carry so much in your pockets because they make you look an odd shape.

  5. I also felt much the same as you did but my school years were in the fifties. By the time I was a teenager, I was influenced by my peers and I had bouffant hair, winkle picker shoes (which ruined my feet to this day) and a hoop in my skirt. Frilly net underskirts that were dipped in sugar water to keep them crisp.
    Apart from that, I was very shy.

    I would never give up taking a handbag out for any guy!
    Maggie X

    Nuts in May

  6. @Grannymar - I must have!

    @Rummuser - That's the way I am.

    Delirious - It's great when you meet friends to whom you can really relate!

    @blackwatertown - He rarely carries my stuff!

    @MaggieMay - would love to see a photo!

  7. Read it right to the end so yes, the post was interesting!


Post a Comment

Thanks for visiting me. Please let me know you were here

Popular posts from this blog

Good Intentions

I had great intentions for this week.  I'd write a thousand words every day, review six books, get my Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC) post up well in advance.  And did I?  No, no, no.  I wrote about two hundred words per day and have been trying to read and review two books and still not finished reading.  My target of 19,000 words until today by now is around 15,000 on my 100kWords in 100 Days Challenge.  It seems I'm just not cutting the mustard.

I have the intentions.  I just don't seem to have the mojo to carry out the things I want to do. So many intentions, not enough time.  I've not been sleeping well lately.  Probably very tired.

So - my intention now is to try to get more sleep.  Then carry out the original intentions.That' what I intend to do.  As of now.  Meanwhile, my post is up one day late.

I had to go out to the bank this morning to get some pending work finished.  I clicked the above picture en route.  It seems that after a three week winter, we're…

Global Peace - Is It Possible? LBC Post

I can't believe it's Friday already and time for another LBC post.  The Loose Blogger's Consortium (LBC) is a blogging group consisting of about half a dozen of us who blog together every Friday on the same topic.  We are indebted to Ramana (aka blogger Rummuser) for this week's topic.  Instead of just giving a straightforward topic like anyone else would, he posed a question instead.  Is global peace possible? he asked.  I decided to answer his question in a Tweet sized sentence.

Is global peace possible?  Of course it is. If everyone gets in harmony with each other.   But will it happen?  How on earth would I know?

As we say in Ireland (well, as they used to say when I lived there two decades ago), that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Thanks to All-Free-Download for the photo.  Thanks to Lettercount for their character counting facilities.  And thanks to my LBC group for being there every Friday in blogging solidarity.

The Curse of Poverty - Short Story

As the dawn light spread its fingers across the early morning, Rajji stirred uneasily.  She tended to sleep like a street dog - ever alert, with one ear open.  But she'd been tired the previous night and as a consequence had slept rather heavily. Her life was a constant struggle, filled with tasks and responsibilities. If she hadn't been careful, she might have been robbed!  She sprang into alert mode and clutched about her person.  No, everything was in place, the precious money was undisturbed.  Thanks to her employment with the bank, cleaning for one hour every morning, six days a week, she even had a bank account which one of the bank employees had helped her to set up.  What little money she had saved up was safe.....

She looked over her children.  Babu, her son lay sleeping still.  Muniya, her daughter, stirred, close to waking up.  But where was Gudiya, her youngest child?  Might have woken up early and gone to wander around.  Gudiya knew everyone around here and every…