All the reasons I love Fleabag and Phoebe Waller-Bridge

I don’t know how many times I’ve watched both seasons of Fleabag. It seems like countless times, as if it’s on a loop in my head.

Whether I’m agonising over the undercurrent of heartbreak from Season 1 , or getting hot for the priest in Season 2 (those holy overalls, am I right?). I can even get past the whole he’s terrified of foxes thing...

I think what’s so captivating about Fleabag, its ability to portray scenes that are emotionally charged, yet have a realness that brings it back down to Earth. It’s these traits that makes it seem less of a TV show that we are watching on a screen, and more like something that could happen in real life, outside the screen. Whether that realness takes the form of a snide remark from a character, a chastising look from Fleabag to the camera to say ‘yes this is really happening’, or an awkward scene that is so realistic, it’s practically impossible that it didn’t happen to Waller-Bridge in her own life.

Another of the many reason I adore Fleabag, is of course, Phoebe Waller-Bridge herself. The way that she manages to write charming, narcissistic, heartbreaking, witty, powerful content all at once, shows the kaleidoscopic dimensions of the female mind and condition. She writes strong, three-dimensional, flawed female characters, something which is sadly often lacking in TV shows and films.

Fleabag is so beloved by women all over the world because of this, and Phoebe’s writing in Killing Eve has also demonstrated the same way in which she as a writer, can make women take centre stage, without having to be doused head to toe in lingerie or acting in a mildly pornographic suggestive way with a banana (or other phallic everyday object).

So maybe we are all Fleabag, in our own individual ways.

And maybe that’s the whole point.

My all time favourite Fleabag quotes:

“‘Chic’ means boring. Don’t tell the French.”

“Either everyone feels like this a little bit, and they’re just not talking about it, or I’m completely fucking alone.”

“Love is awful. It’s painful. It’s frightening. It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life.”

“It’s like having sex with a protractor.” 

“I want someone to tell me what to believe in, who to vote for, who to love and how to tell them.”

“Sometimes I worry, I wouldn’t be such a feminist if I had bigger tits.”

“Hair is everything, Anthony!”