Florence Given's Women Don't Owe You Pretty Has Some Truths You Need To Hear

Nothing will ever prepare you for the hard truths that this book serves. I ate it up in one day and it’s been a long time since I’ve managed that!

If you don’t know who Florence Given is, get to know. She’s a 21-year-old Londoner who shouts about everything queer, feminist, white privilege, sex and of course, hetrifying (terrifying things heterosexual people do, e.g lounging around in matching pyjamas judging the sorry lives of single people).

Women Don’t Owe You Pretty is a masterpiece. Given debunks the patriarchy and asks all the important questions: Why do women feel pressure to wear makeup and dress nicely in such a performative way? Why do we tear each other down out of jealousy? Why do we fake orgasms? Why do we have the dream wedding scenario already planned out? Why do we continue dating him despite the fact his Tinder bio states he wants ‘a good girl to keep him warm at night.’ Go buy a blanket, mate. Given tells you why, because we’ve been conditioned to desire all of this since the day the women in our lives taught us how to shave and apply mascara. In effect, the idea of what we look like to men has become so important that we’ve forgotten how to enjoy ourselves without fear of our hair being out of place.

I knew I could never write a review that so eloquently sums up female, trans, queer and marginalised lives like Given does, but I want people to know that this book is so very genuine and honest. Not to mention, Given’s illustrations are bloody fantastic and the cover is a work of art in itself.

I consider myself a pretty strong person, someone who can recognise red flags and unjust behaviour, but I’ve come away from this book two weeks later and I’m still processing why I continue to act as if I owe prettiness and compliance to someone somewhere. Every page of this book comes with a new truth, and these truths will undoubtedly stir within me for a while yet.

‘. . . whatever it is that society has brainwashed you into believing, you are no-one’s fucking doormat. You are not a source of energy for others to take. This is your table, you set the standards and you choose who gets a seat.’