Evening all. Bit nippy out so I hope you’re all cosied up this evening. I recommend a big dose of onesie, stylish no, snug – absolutely.
In a way I suppose this should have been my first blog, but I never got around to writing it.
The term WAG is something of a controversial one when it comes to the wives and girlfriends of the Armed Forces.
WAG conjures up images of Coleen Rooney, Cheryl Cole and Victoria Beckham swanning around Baden Baden in the summer of 2006, dressed in their matching hot pants, lugging a Louis Vuitton handbag and providing the nation with a distraction from the football we were supposed to be watching.
It’s about as far removed from my life as possible. My boyfriend does not give me free reign with his credit card to buy the latest Louboutins and my eyelashes, boobs, hair and nails are well and truly my own (unfortunately).
But post football WAG phenomenon the word was used to describe the better halves of England cricketers during the 2007 Ashes and soon became a part of the public lexicon.
Girls Aloud told magazines how they toured with their HABs in tow, Westlife had WABs.
The first time I was referred to as a WAG was when I attended my first Mess function, as a joke I was happy to laugh along with.
Since then I’ve heard it used in a pejorative way, in an ironic way, and occasionally in a celebratory way.
Myself and fellow wives/girlfriends have joked about setting up “Alternative Wags Club” where we would replace the book clubs and smart dinner parties we were invited to during The Boy’s first tour with all-nighters and kebabs.
But apart from that I’ve never, in general day to day life, referred to myself as an “Army Wag”, and neither has my boyfriend.
However, when I first started writing my blog I decided to use the phrase “Army wag” because it was punchy, pithy, and explained who I was, and by extension what I was writing about and why.
It was simple and it was also future proof. Right now I’m a G but hopefully, in the not too distant future, I will be a W.
Likewise when I started tweeting back in June I kept the moniker as I felt like I’d established my own tiny little brand and decided to stick with it.
I don’t use my name out of respect for my boyfriend, or in case I let anything slip that could put him at risk. And I wasn’t clever enough to come up with anything better.
WAG is a term not all are comfortable with. Some ladies love it, some loathe it. Some find it funny, some think it’s dismissive. Some identify with it, some don’t. It’s up to you.
And it’s not the only word or phrase which has this effect. Essex Girl, Rah, Chav, Hack, even Squaddie to name but a few.
Personally I don’t see myself as an “Army wag”, yes my other half is in the Army but that’s not all I’m about by any stretch of the imagination.
I’m an educated, professional woman. I have hobbies, I have interests, I consider myself a feminist, and what my boyfriend does for a living is only a teeny tiny part, and we’re talking molecular, of who I am.
But when I’m blogging on here I generally write about my experiences as an Army girlfriend (currently) so I feel that naming my blog “Army Wag” works for me, and I hope that you, as my readers, can relate to it.
It’s tongue very firmly in cheek of course, laden with a heavy dose of irony – likewise the picture of the sparkly shoes I use as my Twitter avatar. Take the WAG image, spin it on it’s head.
Life as an Army wife or/and girlfriend is tough. Poking a little fun at it won’t hurt.
Army WAG 