The masterpiece of flemish culture may not be the Jan Van Eyck altarpiece or Pieter Bruegel’s babel tower but in fact the recent television series that has streamed its way into the malleable consciences of our generation; Temptation Island. Who could have thought that putting a bunch of bust jiggling Barbies and G.I Joes that can barely speak on a beach together could provide so much entertainment? I am no better than anyone else on this planet and let myself be reeled in by this form of popular culture on a Friday night on the sofa.

I grimace as we see a girl stepping onto a boat, the close up camera angle lets her butt fill the screen, her bikini shows, but barely. It is apparently legal to walk around with a piece of fabric smaller than a hairband up your arse crack and call it a bikini. I’m stuck between two polarised positions; I believe on the one hand that women have been told enough already in history what to wear and at this point in time we should be free to wear dental floss as a pant if we wish and not be judged for it. On the other I’d rather just see a naked person than have someone pretend that the thong they are wearing has an actual purpose. But who knows, if I had a body like that perhaps I’d wear the same (I wouldn’t). For now I tend to have more respect for a burkini (a full body swimsuit designed to respect Islamic traditions), it’s functional, protects you from the sun and from men trying oggle you (we don’t all enjoy that as much as the women on Temptation by the way). I don’t know why it even took the prompt of religion to make that design happen; I’d be wearing it with or without the religious connotations.

Let’s begin the show instead with all the women in burkinis and a reading of Wollstonecraft’s ‘Vindication of the Rights of Woman’ and see where the night takes us. I doubt the producers of Temptation Island would hire me.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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