JWIT all grown up (well almost)…

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

With the smell of freshly baked honey cakes in the air it can only mean one thing… Rosh Hashanah. I don’t know about you but Rosh Hashanah is one of my favourite times of year. Not only is it the perfect opportunity for a new wardrobe, not to mention a highlight on the social calendar for the majority of citizens of North London…but it is also marks the beginning of a new year and therefore a new chapter. And lets be honest, once in a while we could all use one of those. Its’ not that JWITs have much to repent (because we’re pretty much perfect 98% of the time -obvs) but in the words of Cady Heron:

‘when you get bit by a snake you are supposed to suck out the poison. Well that’s what I had to do. I had to suck all of the poison out of my life.’

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Mean Girls can usually be relied on to have an answer for everything but who knew Mean Girls and the Torah had so much in common! Anyways…. my point being that with the start of a new year it’s time to accept your mistakes, learn from them, and prepare yourself to face the new challenges that lie ahead. Rosh Hashanah is also a sign that summer is officially over. And with this there does indeed come a few depressing realisations…. For example, your days of going to Bodos Schloss on Thursday nights are now distant memories (although to be honest its’ not like you really remember much of them anyway)… and as you say goodbye to your summer romance its’ easy to catch a case of those depressing post holiday blues…whether you’ve left your heart in Bodos or LA…there is always a silver lining. On the bright side soon it will be cold enough to wear your new Kooples leather jacket (which is beyond fab if I do say myself).

Although, perhaps your post summer depression is not really a result of you missing the freedom to stay out all night, or your ridiculously amazing tan (well in this case maybe it is a little bit)…but rather it’s the fear of starting this new phase of your life. After all there is nothing like the harsh reality check of the expiration of your 10% student discount at Topshop to remind you that you’re all grown up… (well almost) #panic.

If like myself, you were naïve enough to think that by doing a masters you are in fact preserving your student identity for at least one more year, than its time to think again. Because sooner or later (if you haven’t done already) the fact that you are actually doing ANOTHER DEGREE, and not only a degree, but an MA will eventually sink in…. and when it does it could potentially result in you suffering what I like to refer to as a CND (casual nervous break-down) – just a warning. If you happen to be like me than this is likely to manifest itself in three ways. Firstly, googling whether memory loss from too much alcohol is ever long term as I clearly have forgotten the tears, anxiety and misery suffered at the hands of degree number 1. Secondly, buying a ridiculously expensive leather jacket…and thirdly… doing the only logical thing and booking spontaneous transatlantic flights #genius. An MBA…I mean REALLY?! The extent to which I ever considered myself to be an academic was when I dressed up as a slutty lecturer for Halloween…

In this case it only seems appropriate to invoke wisdom and inspiration from the probably most notorious and perhaps the original JWIT herself, Joan Rivers. Therefore, I would like to thank Joan for my Rosh Hashanah resolutions:

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1) ‘I was smart enough to go through any door that opened.’

2) ‘Never be afraid to laugh at yourself, after all, you could be missing out on the joke of the century.’

3) ‘I succeed by saying what everyone else is thinking.’

After all if we have made in 5,775 years, JWITs must be tougher than we look. So in this new year of new challenges, new degrees, new jobs and maybe even new JHs….I suggest get yourself a kick ass leather jacket and we’ll fake it until we make it together… SHANA TOVA!

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xoxo

JWIT and some words of wisdom….

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

In the life of a JWIT there will along the way be potential JHs that unfortunately just don’t make the cut. Despite our painfully irresistible desirability, on rare occasions a potential JH suddenly becomes the dreaded ‘ex.’ Although, these situations are rare…they do occur. And just in case this may happen to you, I feel it is my responsibility as a fellow JWIT, to give you some guidance on your new found path to single town….OK so this may not have been the fairy tale ending that you envisaged, but you know what they say…as one door closes, another one opens…and when they do the possibilities are endless…

I don’t know about you but personally I find reading about other people’s misery and cringingly embarrassing experiences somewhat therapeutic. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that you are not alone in your pathetic pool of self-pity, nor the only person who has ever been dumped. Well, if your anything like me then its lucky for you that you have my mistakes to learn from…Even if I can’t remember all of their names! (Only joking #maybenot #sorrymum). From my experiences I have gained the most important life skill that any JWIT/JWIT wannabe could ever possess and definitely one that I will never forget: Regardless of how hopeless, miserable and heartbroken you may feel, there is ALWAYS something funny about the situation. Sorry if that seems like an anti-climax, and you were expecting something highly poetical or profound (By the way if you were thinking this then I’m flattered by your faith in my intelligence); but I promise you, its ’true. If you don’t believe me, or just think that I’m being a cold-hearted bitch, then hopefully by reading some of my break up faux pas I will be able to convince you otherwise….

First of all instead of thinking of your situation as a ‘break up’ I prefer to think of it as if you were on an over-extended holiday from the best city in the world… Single Ville. It’s kind of similar to when New Yorkers need a break from the excitement and demands of the big apple so they escape to a quite retreat in Vermont that although, at first, it may seem luxurious with its’ big fluffy bed and cosy fireplace… it isn’t long before they are craving the noise and adrenalin of the city that never sleeps… So its time to wipe those tears and man-up, because in Single Ville sleep is definitely NOT an option…so lets the adventures begin…

If you are recently going through a break up then you’re probably experiencing some of these initial side effects:

1.  Lack of appetite (unusual for a JWIT, but always welcomed)

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2. A new appreciation of horror films consisting of A LOT of torture scenes (Hobo with a shotgun is a personal fave…yes this is a real movie…the plot is basically summed up in the title)

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#truestory

 

3. Vodka tastes like water

 

4.  A reversion to soap (babe. just because your watching Hobo with a Shotgun doesn’t mean you need to look like one…)

 

5.  Shameless neglect of self-dignity

Don’t worry we’ve all been there, and as we all know there is nothing more annoying than people telling you that ‘time’ is the best healer…. Whoever invented this myth obviously doesn’t realise that patience is not in a JWIT’s vocabulary. So if you’re getting bored of:

A) Playing game after game of ‘library roulette’ (This is a thrilling yet sadistic game-it’s pretty simple: You basically go into every library on the University campus and with each library you enter the fatal risk of encountering your ex increases)

B) Torturing yourself about how painfully uncool you played it that last time you ran into your ex and went psycho JWIT on their ass and sort of, maybe, hit them (not your proudest moment, but in hindsight admittedly kind of funny).

C) Spending too many depressing hours on tinder analysing whether someone’s last name is Israeli or Indian origin-not as obvious as one would think.

Then don’t threat because I am about to come to your rescue and enlighten you once again with some of my highly valuable and sacred wisdom: The best cure for broken heart is not ‘time’ OR Ben and Jerry’s….  it is, in fact, just having fun! As I road my Boris Bike through Regent’s Park on a sunny Sunday morning on the best walk of shame, perhaps ever in the history of walks of shame (or should I say ‘ride of shame’), in the same outfit that I wore the night before (heels and a glittered playsuit), it occurred to me that maybe heartbreak brings out the best in us. Shocking, I know, but just hear me out…. Put it this way if it wasn’t for that shmuck dumping you then you probably would have never discovered your full, and undeniably impressive, capability to dance all night, or had the courage to go after your dream job abroad… and remember at the end of the day all JHs are replaceable anyway #totheleft (If you don’t get this Beyonce reference, then yes, you should be ashamed).

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I am not denying the fact that there is nothing more painful than losing the person that you love and there is no doubt that after having your heart broken that you will never be the same person again; so open and willing to invest your heart in someone else. However, one day you will wake up and realise that you love the person that you have become more. This is because heartbreak makes us fearless….

So finally on that note here are some top break up tips from one JWIT to another:

 

1. Remember pool parties are always more fun than pity parties…

 

2.  Its’ true that the harder you cry, the harder you will eventually laugh.

 

3. Always be slutty but NEVER the sluttiest.

 

4. Never turn down a cocktail date (even if you can’t understand their Russian accent)

 

5. Not only do the hard times make you stronger, but they also give you hilarious stories (and blogs).

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xoxo

JWIT and the hidden talent…

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

There are certain things that as a born and bred JWIT from North West London that I have come to take for granted… My Jewdar, for example, being high up on this list. If you are unaware of what a ‘Jewdar’ is its probably because you are either:

a) Always surrounded by Jews, and probably should consider expanding your circle…

OR

b) Have never been out to a Mayfair club on the hunt for a JH (in which a Jewdar is essential…trust me!)

Regardless of your pathetic excuses for being unashamedly unaware of your G-d given talent its time for me to enlighten you. A Jewdar is the inbuilt and highly acute ability of a JWIT to be able to determine whether a complete stranger is Jewish or not. This is a skill that has been perfected and passed down generation to generation…it is not only how we have managed to maintain our exclusivity as a race, but it has also allowed us to find potential JH material even in places where all hope was nearly lost (yes David Beckham’s grandfather was Jewish #totallycounts). Have you ever sat in a restaurant and after about thirty seconds of eaves dropping on the table next to yours complaining to the waiter you, your mum and grandmother simultaneously turn to one another and declare ‘definitely Jewish?’ if you have, then this is a simple, yet classic example of the Jewdar in action. On the other hand, if you have yet to tap into this skill and have always wondered why you ended up with the Greek boys instead of the Jewish ones (easy mistake, we’ve all been there) then girl its probably time you get that thing fixed before your broken Jewdar lets another JH bites the dust…

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Although, as a student at the University of Bristol I have to admit that my own Jewdar has become slightly rusty due to lack of use. Because lets be honest, despite my wishful thinking you don’ t have to be the Chief Rabbi, let alone have a Jewdar at all, to realise that the blond, devilishly good looking rugby boy from a village in Wales is neither Jewish, nor interested in converting…therefore, as a result my Jewdar has been ashamedly out of practice and as a result it is far from the standard of precision and technique that will be required if I ever intend to use it effectively in a Mayfair club ever again.

However, all JWITs are guilty of perhaps using the Jewdar too much…to the extent that it becomes a subconscious reflex; and before you know it not only are all your friends Jewish but you have also kissed the whole of North London. Suddenly, going man scouting on a sunny day in Primrose Hill has not only become slightly awkward, but also, admittedly boring. Basically what I am trying to say is that although I am wholly appreciative of my ability to detect a fellow JWIT amongst a crowd of complete strangers I also have come to realise that sometimes the unknown can be more fun….

Recently I have discovered that the Jewdar has a new untouched power that I have come to value perhaps more highly than its’ ability to tell me whether his curly brown hair is proof of Judaism or Greek Orthodoxy (or perhaps both, in that case…L’-chaim!) The Jewdar, if used correctly, can detect the JWIT wannabes. Yes, they do exist. The JWIT wannabes are girls that are not technically Jewish but wish that they were. I mean who wouldn’t want to be a JWIT? After all we are the domestic goddesses with the sharpest wit and best tans due to our time spent on the beach in Tel Aviv opposed to the grassy shores of Henley Regatta (To be fair, however, I was pleasantly surprised at how satisfying it can be to lay on the grass and drink champagne whilst watching a few Exeter boys painfully squirm at the mercy of their cox- p.s. this is not a typo with a pun intended, it is rowing slang for the person that sits on the front of the boat and is in charge of the other rowers).

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If you have not encountered a JWIT wannabe then it may be time to turn your Jewdar down a notch, because from my experience they can be a blessing in disguise. Who else is going to show you how to pull off a hat at the races or explain to you what pheasant tastes like? Ok so these may not be the most practical life lessons…but its a known fact that hats are fab and the Kate look is totally in right now.

 

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As I have said before we have come to take many things for granted. There is  certainly a time and a place where your Jewdar is an essential accessory, but sometimes I have to admit that it takes breaking an outsider’s challah virginity to remind us of how lucky we are to be born and bred JWITs.

And after all everyone loves a Jewish girl…so if you can’t spot them… convert them.

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xoxox

@OriginalJWIT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

JWIT and ‘The Fall’

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

Long time no speak. There’s been a lot going down and it feels good to be finally reunited with my fellow JWITs. After receiving some not so good press for my article in the JC (check it out: http://www.thejc.com/campus/campus-comment/112389/introducing-jwit) I decided that it’s time to show those haters what they’re really missing. First of all let’s just get one thing straight: I never stopped being a JWIT. No one can change who I am, nor can they shame me into giving up what I love (even though the guy who works in the fro yo shop has tried on many occasions with his disapproving looks). Ultimately the bottom line is I will always be me; so let the haters hate, and keep the fro yos coming.

JWIT’s are the queens of passing judgement. The problem is we don’t know that we’re doing it (OK, so we do know a lot of the time) but I swear often it just happens…in the same way one minute your holding a full tub of Ben and Jerry’s then you blackout for like literally a second…and its empty! Shit happens.  But this is my point. Sometimes there are things that we can’t control, and in typical JWIT fashion your biggest critic is often yourself. I have learnt an important lesson recently…and that is that you can’t control how other people perceive you. I know this is difficult to believe considering we all secretly know that we spent hours choosing this outfit. It is too easy to fall into the trap of feeling a constant need to please others and gain their approval. However, believe me this always ends in tears…

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So if you can’t control it then beat it. We all want to be like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and tell those bitchy girls what a huge mistake they made by judging us too soon. But at the end of the day worrying about what others think about you is not only a waste of your energy that could be better spent with those who value you, but it also lets the haters win. And why should they win? If Taylor Swift let the haters win do you think she would be worth $55 million? Absolutely not. Success is the best revenge, and Taylor is, no doubt, the master of revenge.

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Part of being a JWIT is being able to stand by yourself…not only in your words, as I stand by my own; but also in having the confidence in the knowledge that you are still fabulous with or without the perfect outfit (or boy). There will always be the person who thinks that your chicken soup is too salty…well don’t change it…just think…more for you.

After watching the recently released movie 12 Years a Slave I can’t seem to get one line from this film out of my head (by the way unless you feel like two hours of sobbing and wishing you would just choke on your popcorn so you could leave the cinema without looking like a pussy, I suggest you skip this and opt for a large dose of Bradley Cooper in American Hustle). Anyways…back to my point. Despite the dehumanising depressiveness of this film, you couldn’t help but to feel inspired by the protagonist as he denounces: ‘I will not fall into despair.’ Obviously being kidnapped and sold into slavery is presumably a lot more traumatic than being dumped by your boyfriend or being attacked on face book for an article you wrote; however, this line has stuck with me and become my new mantra. Yes my mantra. Just try it and you’ll see it works. Next time you’re feeling a little weak or depro just say this line in your head and I promise it will inspire the fighter in you. A JWIT wouldn’t be a true JWIT if she wasn’t a little bit melodramatic…so relating our daily problems of break ups, too many essays and not enough sun to years of suffering as a slave seems somewhat appropriate.

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I have said it before and I will say it again…JWITs are stronger than we look, and although there will always be people in your life who will doubt this and try to bring you down…we will NOT fall into despair…because the only thing a JWIT will fall into is… love.

xoxox

The Shabbat Hangover

Originally posted on Jewish Wife in Training..and many other fabulous things..:

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

So I have some beyond fabulous news to share with you all..last night I made my very first home made (completely from scratch) Challah…

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Now for all you challah making virgins out there who are at this moment beyond jel and questioning your prospects of becoming a Jewish domestic goddess.. DON’T STRESS! Next Friday night is only 6 nights away..so this time pause that episode of the Kardashians, take a break from instagraming pictures of your ‘huncal’ froyo and get your self some dry yeast, flour, honey and eggs. Remember carbs are even better when you work for them…and not going to lie the life of a JWIT takes hard work! You will know this if, like me, today you are suffering from a ‘Shabbat hangover.’ If not only are you having guilt about stuffing your face with an exorbitant amount of challah, chopped liver and drinking your…

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The JM (Jewish Mother)

Hello my fabulous JWITs,

 An odd thing happened to me the other day…my father gave me a present. Ok, so as all JWITs know your dad giving you a present isn’t that surprising nor that rare, however, this time it wasn’t a Mulberry wallet or his credit card. It was this:

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 Two things immediately came into my head. Firstly, a book doesn’t count as a present. Secondly, is my dad suggesting I look pregnant?! I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that second cupcake at that 21st this weekend! However, when the immediate panic of gaining weight, and the disappointment of a book as my present finally wore off, I wondered why such a book even exists? Obviously this present was meant to be an endearing attempt by my Dad to make a joke about my self declared JWIT identity (and to be fair it is kind of sweet), but being a Jewish male what he fails to understand is I won’t need a book to tell me how to be a Jewish mother. Not only do I have a Jewish mother of my own who is always keen to provide me with her version of life coaching and endless words of advice to help me along the way; but like being a JWIT being a JM is not learnt or taught…it is a natural gift, or as I like to say talent.

 A JWIT’s relationship with her mother is incredibly important. JM’s are not just our mothers but also our therapists, gossiping/lunching companions, stylists, personal chefs, nurses and at times our worst enemies. People who think Kris Jenner’s role as ‘momager’ to the Kardashian clan is pervasive and interfering have obviously not encountered a JM. The symptoms of the ‘Jewish mother syndrome’ include:

 1. Endless worrying.

2. A constant need for contact (always achievable-many thanks to skype).

3. Determination to know absolutely everything about what your  children/husband/siblings/parents/friends are up to.

4. Always over cooking.

5. The guilt trip.

6. Overtly opionated and is willing to offer her judgement on anything or anyone when given the slightest chance.

 Admittedly these characteristics at times can be beyond irritating. A JWIT has probably spent more times in her life than most people googling Macaulay Culkin’s legal battle for emancipation, and wondering whether if she followed in his foot steps she could still occasionally borrow her mother’s Chanel purse. For some reason there is nothing more annoying than when your mum tells you that she ‘loves you with your hair up,’ or passes judgement on your choice of outfit for your first date with the boy who she claims is a total shmuck. Don’t worry you are not alone! Generation after generation of Jewish mothers have engaged in what are largely over dramatic battles of will power with their daughters.

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 #NEWSFLASH!!

The causes of these frequent disagreements occur because a JWIT and her mother are actually the same. It often takes a JWIT a long period of time to come to terms with the fact that some day (once our JH charming is found) we will become a JM ourselves. One day you could be sitting flicking through the pictures from the night before and realise your skin actually did look a funny colour, or the boy who you’ve been seeing does turns out to be a complete schmuck, when those three little words dawn on you: ‘she was right.’

 Because that’s the unique thing about Jewish mothers, despite their at times over bearing interest in your life, or their habit of passing a judgement on every single fashion choice you make they’re the only one’s who you can truly count on to be patient enough to listen to your hypochondriac complaints, or have the guts to tell you that isn’t your colour. JM’s have the ability to simultaneously be our best friends and our worst enemies. But most importantly they always want what’s best for you, and more importantly they always KNOW what’s best for you.

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 It’s time to appreciate the JM because lets admit it: without her not only would you lack a full understanding of the importance of beauty maintenance as well as a flawless recipe for chicken soup… but they’re also one step ahead of you in finding a JH… Therefore, maybe next time they tell you to wear your hair up you should take their advice..

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#Thanksmum

 So next time your jealously stalking Macaulay Culkin and imagining a world of parental free bliss…remind yourself that behind every great JWIT is an even greater JM.

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JWIT turns 21

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Hello my fabulous JWITs,

Firstly, I would like to apologise for being totally MIA. However, let’s be honest, most of you were probably too busy strutting around in your heels and bikini in Marbella to notice my absence. Don’t worry I’m not going to interrupt your sunbathing for too long, because I, myself, like any other JWIT value the importance of a good tan, but something very exciting has happened to me that I HAVE to tell you about…I turned 21!! Ok so I know I’m from North London and that means I’ve been basically downing shots of grey goose since I was twelve and really turning 21 shouldn’t be that big of a deal…but if like me you’ve always lived vicariously through The Hills then you’ll understand how turning 21 has made your dreams of hailing down a yellow taxi seem that much more tangible.

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JWITs love birthdays. We basically live for that one day every year when all the attention is on us…we get showered with presents and praise without having to feel guilty about it. Birthdays also provide the perfect opportunity for us to cry for no apparent reason. Not to mention the special birthday secret that on your birthday all food magically becomes calorie free. The only day that is perhaps more coveted by the JWIT is our wedding… but until we find the perfect JH being the ‘birthday girl’ will have to suffice. Even though every birthday for a JWIT is considered a milestone (with all the stress we sometimes wonder how we made it another year) and require the same about of attention, preparation, anticipation and equally fabulous presents. Turning 21 is somehow different…it is not until then that we finally become liberated from or transatlantic partying limitations; but I also found that I acquired new founded sense of womanhood. There was a sudden realization that my adult life was real and ahead of me and a new chapter in my life as a JWIT was about to begin. #FML.

Not only were graduation pictures starting to appear on my newsfeed faster than I could stalk them myself but people scrambling around for internships and graduate schemes was beginning to make me hyperventilate. By this point in my life I should have already been a) famous (I mean seriously what does Miley have that I don’t?) or b) winning cases for the Supreme Court like Elle Woods. But here I am an average university student with no internship in the city, no record of volunteering with starving children and no obvious talent worth documenting on YouTube. #Fail.

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Sipping Mojitos at a pool party in Vegas somehow hasn’t given me the sense of achievement and self-fulfilment that I imagined it would as my thirteen-year old self. So I guess what I’m trying to say is if I want to live up to my true JWIT potential its time to get real. Of course this doesn’t mean giving up everything I love, like reality TV, and of course I’ll never forget the importance of homemade Friday night dinner! So I have devised a 10 step plan to making the transition to the new me:

1. Accept that it’s too late to be a child star.

2. Limit one’s intake of shots of Grey Goose.

3. Start reading real books (US Weekly doesn’t count)

4. Be able to make informed political opinions.

5. Call my mother crying less.

6. Cry less

7. Make classier fashion choices.

8. Acquire a talent.

9. Stop spending all my money on over-priced frozen yoghurt.

10. Take full advantage of being free, independent and 21 #YOLO

It’s only natural that as a JWIT one should have high ambitions for one’s self. With the recent graduation of many of peers and fellow JWITs, I don’t know about you, but I have felt a significant increase in the pressure to snag myself a respectable (and in other words boring) internship. Of course we want to be able to support ourselves in the life style to which we have become accustomed (giving up the over-priced frozen yoghurt is, after all, only a temporary measure…girls gotta eat) but this doesn’t mean subjecting myself to a life filled with day after day of rush hours, offices and suits (unless it’s Chanel obvs).

JWIT’s are known for being sometimes high maintenance, often a little bit cray and always fabulous…but it’s time to reveal our rebellious side. Beyonce didn’t get to where she was today by completing a graduate scheme for Goldman Sachs, so why should I? Since when has success become defined within a narrow spectrum of convention and as having a complete lack of imagination? Because that’s the special thing about a JWIT we may all seem the same but really we’re all individuals, with different interests and who want different things. And we all know that JWIT’s always get what they want! So… whether you want to experiment with a pixie hair cut like Miley or you want to become the first JWIT to go to space…there’s no time like the present…because what do you have to lose? Remember your only 21 once!

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