Chronicle 4: Queen Elizabeth II

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When it comes to faces we see on a daily basis, this lady kind of trumps them all – apart from our own reflections of course.

If she’s not in your back-pocket making up the ‘head’ side of your loose change, you’re licking the reverse of her head to send post. We’re ever so familiar with Her Majesty, but we’re not ones to take such an iconic face for granted.

The only time I’m called royal is when I’m being a pain in the arse. Meaning I don’t have any first hand experience with Britain’s most prestigious family. However, when you’re reppin’ the country, handling corgi bills and have to put up with the recent moronic decisions politicians and your public have made – you’ve got to feel the pressure somewhat. Not to mention hearing your grandson has made the news – only fearing it’s for the wrong reasons. Sure Harry’s stint in Vegas was a couple of years ago now. But poor old Lizzie – she remembers it like it was yesterday.

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Let’s not forget, she’s a great-grandmother. You try accepting you’re the glue to the three generations of family beneath you. Of course it’s going to make you feel your years. And quite frankly, with all the forced smiles she’s had to pass on to the world over her reign – her face, more than anyone, deserves some down time. I can’t imagine how sore those cheeks of hers must be.

We salute your neutral expression Ma’am. And we’re well aware that whilst appearing royally peeved off, you’re probably just throwing back to the polo game in the summer of ’92. What a hoot one had. Or just wondering whether Jeffrey is going to put on a spread of quail’s eggs for breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s all relative.

On the contrary she’s got a lot to be smug about. She owns a palace, is the only person in the UK allowed to drive without a license and travel without a passport. Plus, she has a pet Jaguar she keeps at London Zoo. Casual. So when you next see our queenie looking as though little George and Charlotte have just scribbled all over her draft for this year’s Christmas speech, let’s just give her face the benefit of the doubt it so rightfully deserves.

 

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REFORMER PILATES: EPOCH FITNESS

Always one for trying out a new exercise class, Reformer Pilates at Epoch Fitness caught my attention. Probably because, in all honesty, I’d never heard of it before. For someone that’s never participated in any form of Pilates or Yoga, but a keen gym-goer, I was excited about getting stuck in. (The typical thoughts of a girl prior to forcing her body into unnatural shapes.)

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Call it doing your homework, curiosity or just plain sensible – I had a cheeky Google pre-class. ABSOLUTE ERROR. The machines looked like torture beds and Google Images kindly displayed a selection of photos that I can only describe as a contortionist’s library. Cheers Googs.

The classes are held in the Fitzrovia Centre – a little random – but you’ll know when you find the correct room, as you’ll be confronted with 8 torture beds. The instructor was friendly and explained the class to a few of us beginners, including a quick demo of the Reformer machine. Towels and bottled water were provided, which was definitely appreciated and a nice touch.

The lesson is made up of squats, lunges, press-ups and core toning – with the springs underneath the reformer machine creating the resistance. As the class is quite small, the instructor is able to observe, help and correct you when you aren’t quite nailing it. And don’t worry, they’re used to sweaty backs.

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Things not to expect:

-An easy hour

-Getting it right first time

-Flattering positions

Things to expect:

-Burning thighs

-Thinking “20 more? You’ve got to be kidding me”.

– Walking like a penguin the next day

Turns out, the only similarities that the reformer machines hold to my initial description of torture beds is that you spend the lesson lying down. They aren’t half as bad as they look. Quite the contrary, you might say, as you’ll leave having been introduced to muscles that you’ve never met before.

Did it #crackmybitchface? Well, I’m pretty sure during the class my face didn’t look that approachable. When one’s left leg is indicating South East and one’s right is pointing to South West, whilst your feet are hooked into resistance straps; I ask does anyone look cheery? (Those that are in to kinky bedroom antics need not answer that.) But after feeling the burn 24-48 hours afterward, I was certainly smiling on the inside: NO PAIN NO GAIN, right?

Chronicle 3: Kristen Stewart

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For girls of twelve or thirteen, it’s the norm to begin experimenting with facial expressions and mirrors. However when you’ve just starred alongside Jodie Foster in a hit blockbuster, things are a bit different. Kristen Stewart spent those tender ages peeved at the world’s press. How are you meant to teenage the crap out of life when your most awkward years are being documented by the media?

Sure, her big break into the world of A-list was a few years off. But her success in prior roles meant that she was never too far from privacy invasion. And I can’t imagine anyone growing up with a camera in the face is going to be best pleased. So can you really blame Kristen Stewart for falling into CBF’s pissed off gaze?

Her bitter stare into paparazzi’s evil lens just stuck. Like a maths geek and algebra – it’s the things you learn in your pubescent years that are with you through life. Thus, the struggle to smile when your face is in autopilot has become an iconic trait of Kristen Stewart – contrary to what she may be thinking or feeling on the inside.

In a bitter twist of irony, the lass struck global stardom playing Bella – the love interest of a Vampire. Until she ended up becoming one herself. I don’t know many Vampires. But none of them scream cheery. And with Miss Stewart’s demonstration of Chronic Bitch Face, you can almost hear the casting directors shout JACKPOT. It must be part of the job description. And that’s totally cool. I mean they’ve got a lot on their blood-hungry plates. Anyone that has seen the saga will know that for Bella, it was life-changing. So let’s just cut her some slack shall we?

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Who are we to assume she’s pissed off? Because the first rule of Chronic Bitch Face? Don’t jump to conclusions. For all we know she might just be thinking how she actually quite partial to the taste of blood. She may be thrilled about her new casper complexion. Heck, she may even have been LOLLING on the inside at the very moment her and Edward first realised they kinda liked each other as their alter-ego mortal selves too.

R Patz was her boyf. He saw beyond the way the press portrayed her moody demeanour. Yet with a jaw more chiselled than a renaissance sculpture, even he couldn’t shift her facial enigma. But that’s Chronic Bitch Face for you. Sadly, there is no cure.

On the other side of things, let’s not pretend that her face was screaming bitch for no reason. Perhaps he was rubbish in the sack. Perhaps he spoke about blood too much. Or perhaps she was just sick of avoiding garlic. After all, who would put up with that kind of flavour deprivation?

Regardless, since their split she’s still nailing the bitch look. And I applaud her for it. There is no such thing as the smile police. Her face should be able to express whichever mood it likes. Despite whether it holds any truth. Because if we can accept Kristen’s neutrally engaged appearance, then who knows. There’s hope for vampires everywhere.