Unpretty

Recently I've been really wrapped up in appearances, mainly my own, worrying about the way that I look and being generally dissatisfied with what I've got to work with. Like it or not, appearance matters. And I truly believe that if you are attractive, doors will open for you that would otherwise be slammed in your face. Plus, you'd have less villagers chasing you back to the swamp with lit torches held aloft in a fiery condemnation of your sheer ugliness. The confidence you'd have must in itself make a major difference to the way you live your life. So, despite what I am about to say, I do realise the way the world works.

I've been placing far too much emphasis on looks, particularly in the demise of my brief brush with Alfie. I have been kind of working on the belief that if I was prettier, he'd want me. Alfie is oft surrounded by beautiful women, and I couldn't help thinking that people were looking at us when we went out, wondering what the blazes he was doing with me. But then I thought, well, Alfie isn't the best looking guy in the world, there are plenty of guys hotter than him, and I'd still choose him over Jake Gyllenhaal's doppelganger any day of the week. It's not all about looks. Take this girl.

Former Miss England, fellow scouser, model, and Celeb Big Brother contestant Danielle Lloyd. She's bloody gorgeous. I would kill to look like her. But the girl, if we judge her solely on her behaviour in the house, which is all I have to go on, is a complete bitch and alleged racist. She may be stunning on the outside, but her actions in the house so far have been hateful and ugly.

I guess it all depends on how superficial you are. But it takes more than a pretty face or a hot little bod to build a relationship. I saw something special in Alfie and for whatever reason, he was irresistably attractive to me (as my sister said, somewhat bemusedly, "It must be his personality.") And I'm sure that Alfie did look at other women and think they were way more gorgeous than me. But that doesn't necessarily mean he'd prefer to be with them. It probably meant it, since y'know... it's turned to dust. But I wasn't looking at better looking guys thinking I'd rather be with them, and that's enough to prove something to me!

So, in conclusion. Yes, I'd love to look like Danielle Lloyd. But I would rather be wanted for being me. (This does not mean I will stop bemoaning the fact that I am Ugly Betty without the brains or the promising magazine publishing career. Sorry 'Muffin.)