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Happy 21st: Dear 15 year old Rebecca...

Dear 15-year-old Rebecca (or Beckie as you oddly insisted on being called),

Well, you made it. You've finally reached the age were you swore you'd be a fully fledged and responsible adult; you'd sit out on the balcony of your bohemian Soho apartment and draft articles for your career as a totally cool and understated music journalist.

Well... yeah, you've got none of that, soz.

In fact, from a 15-year-old wannabe anarchist perspective - I've probably proved quite a disappointment. I've died my hair a relatively normal shade (save a few pink dip dye's every now and then), the leopard print fur coat has been shoved into the back of the wardrobe and I've delved blissfully into middle-class mediocrity by doing a Classics degree at a Russel Group university.

You still love a good red lipstick, though, if that helps.

So, I know you're struggling to find your place in the world right now, but don't worry. You'll come to realise there's never one place you can be. You'll grow and evolve with each new chapter (the funniest chapter is sixth form; you meet some absolute weirdoes who end up being your soulmates). Here are some tips to help you make it through those chapters a lot smoother than I did.

1. The Smiths no longer call to you - if anything, you've come to realise Morrisey is actually a bit of a knob rather than the insight into your soul. Trust me when I say this is a good thing, you were becoming far too melancholic for your own good.

2. Dad was totally right to accompany you to your first ever festival. You were 14, trust me, you could not have handled that. In fact, when you were finally let loose by yourself, you were so wrecked you thought you were Voldemort and had single-handedly killed Pete Doherty. If we learned anything, just get dad to supervise you at all times - you're well embarrassing on your own.

3. Turning eighteen will not be the pinnacle of your life. In fact, all that real ID does is make you a greedy and consistent, somewhat functioning alcoholic.That's what you get for going to sixth form in Leeds I guess.

4. You're about to discover Classics and you're going to fall in love. Word of advice: don't even attempt to learn Ancient Greek - you are shit at languages.

5. If mum ever tells you that you don't suit something: YOU DONT SUIT IT. You may think your edgy, but you just look tragic. Take it off, you'll regret it when the Facebook pictures come up.

6. Yes, you have actually seen the Libertines live. Yes, you did cry. Yes, it was fucking awesome.

7. You have a banging figure, embrace it. Yeah you're on the skinny side, but you're about to have the belated growth spurt of your life and you will hate it. Trust me, your hips do not lie come aged 21, they don't even whisper a fib. (PS. those stretch marks you think show you're getting taller? Yep, those badboy's are due to your fat arse, soz. It's not about to go away any time soon - we still like chips)

8. You're doing good. You may be worried about how everything's going to turn out, and I can't tell you we've figured it out yet, but it's okay. We're making progress. Everything will be fantastic.

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