International Women's Day is one of my favourite days of the year. It's a day that gifts us that much needed prompt when we are stalling, to remember how wonderful and important we are, how far we have come, and most importantly how far we have to go.... We need each other. More than ever before. While the smoke is much appreciated, we need a full on fire in order to make a substantial change to the billions of women being held back by the chains of tradition and lack of effect.
In this digital age of social media, selfies and smartphones, how realistic is it to expect to see a true and un-retouched representation of natural female beauty?
You can tweet, blog, bitch and bore people senseless at dinner parties on how to improve the world but really in my opinion, what has to change first, is our thinking. The conflict is in our minds and we project onto the world as if something out there is making us feel demented.
Look, as much as it distresses me to draw any kind of attention to Katie Hopkins, and her ongoing quest to lodge herself at the forefront of our consciousness, I'm beginning to notice an alarmingly increasing number of people on my Twitter feed, who should really know better, singing her praises, or hailing her as some class of camp icon.
Arquette confirms my fear of becoming a mother. A fear that has led to my non-normative decision in not having children; a decision that is constantly contested by society, my mother every time we Skype, and none the least by myself.
We switched off our head torches and allowed our eyes to adjust. This was the Arctic region of the mountain, a barren, lifeless area covered in ice and rock. At this altitude the oxygen is half that of sea level. And we would feel the effect of that greater tonight than any other night.
The clouds had dropped away again revealing the surrounding mountainside, enormous trees called giant scenacios, dotted the landscape, strange exotic shapes that made you feel like you were on the set of Jurassic Park.
It's an industry where diversity means Denzel Washington. It's not news that a disproportionate number of directors are male, resulting in an inevitable plethora of egotistical, navel-gazing, cock-yanking films like Birdman, Boyhood and Whiplash, that feature women as little more than glorified set design.
Cyber thrillers can fall flat if they slip into the realms of cliche, but thankfully Blackhat gets the cardinal sin out the way early: assorted close up tracking shots of data transfer through chips and microscopic tech landscapes.
First up, was toilet roll seller Vanessa Hunt, who started off slowly but very quickly got better and better. I really can't knock her vocal, it was brilliant but at this stage, it just wasn't enough for me to turn. Vanessa ended with Team Rita.
With the greatest of respect, TV fiction is like other fiction types. It is escapism. It suspends the boundaries of reality. That is, after all the only possible reason the writers on Eastenders get away with entire families living in large houses in London, whilst earning no money for themselves.
They are simply the only award show that really matters. It is the first date A-listers put in their diary, the one awards where everyone turns up. Jack Nicholson will wear sunglasses and sit in the front row just to be the butt of the jokes.
I don't want to live in a world where Robert Downey Jr going grocery shopping is news, and I'm pretty sure Robert Downey Jr doesn't either. In fact I know he doesn't because he openly mocked the story on his own Facebook page, thus ensuring the story was reposted 1500 times in less than an hour. It's now over the 6,600 mark in shares
Julia Stiles took two major gambles when she took on the role of Blue. First was the challenge of the part itself: an escort and working mother with a troubled past. Second was the method of delivery, with Blue initially released on YouTube by pioneering online production company WIGS (standing for 'Where It Gets...').
We all held our breath, dug fingers into palms, hoping, urging, and willing his tongue to let him talk. Every last bit of me wanted to leap over, create a distraction and save him from the torture of silence - and make it all better.
It would be easy for me to say that I wish I had a smaller nose, no lines on my face, and a thinner torso. But if I had all those things, would my life be suddenly improved? No. Because those things don't define me. They don't affect the way I live.