Mangoes World

Welcome to the world of Ms M Mango

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Valentine’s Day is not about a picture upload.

A few years ago I wrote a post about the commericalisation of the Christmas and how the fundamental context has evolved significantly over the past decade to a marketing scheme targeted at the hip pockets of believers. I argued that primarily most of us have forgotten entirely the pure meaning of Christmas and paid into the thriving economical force of retail. (See more)

Last night as I scrolled through my Facebook/Instagram/Twitter feeds I came to a conclusion – Valentine’s Day has also fallen into this niche. Update after update, post after post, all I was viewing were pictures of Valentine’s Day gifts and dates.

The central problem that I have with this is based around the intercontextual meaning of the posts. If I were to deconstruct these posts into meaning then I would arrive at something like this: #MyBoyfriendIsBetterThanYours #LuckyGirl #Haha. And I actually do not like it.

Further analysis of Valentine’s Day inspired posts reveal that they are almost entirely created by women. Because the 21st Century purpose of Valentine’s Day is for your partner or secret admirer to send you a gift or roses as a symbol of their admiration. 

What exactly is the message here? I believe that it is really summed up by my own Facebook post:



Is my relationship still going well if I don’t upload my picture of the flowers that I got for Valentine’s Day? [Tweet this!]

The worst part about these jealously provoking posts is what they do consequentially to those outside of the initial couple. Not surprisingly single women would be the most affected by the continual uploads of #ImSpoilt posts. As these uploads do nothing else but help to create insecurity for women about still being single. #NaNaNaNA!

On the other hand, men in relationships now feel the pressure to compete with their mates in showing their appreciation for their partner. If they don’t buy flowers and gifts, they look like they don’t love their partner as much as ‘her friend’s boyfriends do.’ 

Whatever happened to just calling your girlfriend to tell them that you love them? [Tweet this!]

Let’s be honest, Valentine’s Day is just another day on the calendar. The commercial world makes it a marketable event where bookings for restaurants and cost of flowers significantly increase. So much so that you could almost mistake it for Christmas.

Do not get me wrong I am not the Valentine’s Day Grinch. I actually enjoy the day myself and as my birthday is two days prior, I like to use it as an opportunity to take my Valentine out. As a result, I end up being the gift giver thus taking in the traditional role of the 21st Century Valentine’s male.


As yesterdays posting of Valentine’s Day gifts and flowers were increasing online, I was left thinking about my girlfriends who were feeling quite deflated by the enormous exhibitionists on Social Media. This resulted in me sending 23 text messages to Telstra’s Billboard of Love to receive a picture, so my friends without Valentines wouldn’t feel unloved.

I believe that the increase in broadcasted Valentine’s Day is in part due to the development of useable Social Media and the response of the Millennials. Millennials are supporters of foreign celebrations and fear of being left out far outweighs the traditional meaning of the events. We want to be involved, at any cost.

When I was a teenager, the thought of getting a secret Valentine was some of the happiest memories of the high school year. I would argue that at this point in life, it was the girls that are much more involved in the creation and production of Valentine gifts. Teenage boys tend not to care either way.

So how did it all change from the cute cards with hearts and bubble writing to the over commericalised Social Media postings of the current day?


I believe we create the world in which we exist. And Valentine’s Day is just another example of the competitive nature of man. And without this competition the world would become laxidasical. But then again, this is a direct conflict with the objective behind handing out participation medals in school. 

“Develop yourself by your own set of morals, not by comparison of those around you.” [Tweet this!]


You cannot depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus

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Being Clueless is not just a movie about females..

Thank goodness for the Internet! It has provided men with copious amounts of material to write love letters with!

However, love letters can do just as much damage as they can do good.

Upon chatting with my girlfriend, I stumbled across this email that she had been sent from a clueless male after two face to face meetings.

Lets just say it went down like a lead ballon. It wasn’t worthy of a reply because a reply would require an email with some substance so that the respondent could formulate a response. There is no response necessary.

Considering these factors, I thought it was worthy of an inclusion to Mangoes World blog.

Feel free to comment.. I’d love to know what the male population out there think.


Dear Tiffany,

Quick note to say, among a few other ramblings, that I hope this week is proving at least slightly more relaxing for you than the past couple.

I’d also like to take a moment to make a couple of points blatantly obvious…just in case my measured “say the right thing in a suit” demeanour has resulted in any misrepresentation:

Nervous energy, it’s a net positive.
It may not be immediately apparent, however I’ve had a measured level of nervous energy during our catch ups…although potentially awkward, this state of hyper-care is a compliment, or a slightly anxious sign of respect, whichever you prefer… Thinking now, it’s also partially attributable to being on the back foot after learning in the early stages that I best be a gentleman or face prompt disconnection… Given a little relaxed face time and a few laughs I should warm up, considerably.

I find you VERY attractive.
This fact stands firm both physically (no pun intended) and mentally. Apart from a taxi riddled mid-week street corner and drenched car park rooftop I haven’t had an opportunity to express this. Your confidence and accomplished self-assurance is v hot indeed, in fact I’d go so far as to say I’ve well & truly met my match in this regard. I could digress and go into lengthy detail on all things attraction, however should one eventuate this is best left for another occasion. In short the information I’ve had the pleasure of processing to date has been near on overwhelmingly impressive, including that initial shut-down – respect.

You’ve missed out on much of my bravado.

Lucky you, most of it is at best mildly entertaining and a shallow facade for the genuine heart on sleeve character I couldn’t mask if I tried.

I’d like to see you again.
This much by now is almost certainly obvious, but worthy of noting nonetheless. Why is a reasonable question:

See above;
I have hamstring issues (kidding)
You have phenomenal teeth (seriously..)

In closing…

Have a lovely evening.


No clue, from Melbourne


What are we waiting for?

Several events of the last week have led me to think more laterally about my own life. Nothing more notable that the passing of the Melbourne Legend : Jimmy Stynes.

His life consisted of a number of selfless acts that helped to change the life of 1000s of people. He was a winner off and on the field. In the words of Charlie Sheen : “#winning”, except for Charlie, Jimmy actually was.

I grew up supporting Melbourne. Spending my weekends in the stands screaming the names of Stynes, Neitz and Lyon. Although I was never a true convert, the worship and commitment of my Brother and his mates, brought me to the forefront. We spent our weekends at the Bentleigh Club, dancing and getting the players to sign my brother’s jumper. So it is this foundation that leads me to be saddened by the passing of a great.

We live our lives so selfishly and we indulge in past times that can consume us. We can save every penny to buy a house that worth more than what most of us will ever earn. Or we travel to our hearts content. But is most important?

I live my life, surrounded by cancer. Every person you meet can tell you a story where they have been directly exposed to the cancer that is killing us. Some of us bear the scars visually and others emotionally. The silent killer.

Yet we live our lives planning for the future. What is the future? My Mum is a Breast Cancer Survivor. We were lucky. A hereditary disease that scares the absolute shit out of me. Because it is so is stalks the streets at night. I wear the Pink Ribbon permanently on my wrist.

So what are we waiting for? What stops me from having children tomorrow and living everyday as my last?

First World Problems. The bills, the work, the constraints. Everyday we have something to complain and worry about. So what did Jimmy worry about?

His remaining days were spent in the eye of the public. Making sure that he used every last ounce of energy. I feel for his children and his poor wife. Comments from your ‘everyday hero’ Aker, are unnecessary. His State Funeral gives the people he touched, a chance to say goodbye.

I know that whatever I do from here I need to think about how lucky I am to be fit and healthy. I need to stop waiting for the future, because we never reach it.

Tomorrow never comes…