The Manifesto

Welcome to the world of Terrace Bint. The only (to our knowledge at least) football fanzine (or fanny-zine as one of my ever so witty male friends has dubbed it…) aimed squarely at a female audience. A word of warning: it doesn’t contain photos of “fit footie babes” in Brazil bikinis. Hopeful pervs can put it down now. It also doesn’t contain WAG gossip, any articles called “Who is the BIGGEST ENGLAND HUNK?” or similar, or an interview with Delia Smith. It also doesn’t contain tedious trainer fetishism, hooliespeak, or self indulgent pseudo Gonzo ramblings.

So what does it contain? Good question. A lot of ranting, a bit of moaning, plenty of crap jokes, and an attempt to address some of the issues that girls and women who go to football, to discuss ideas and share stories and hear our own realities represented. Because that generally doesn’t happen in most football fanzines. When women write about football they are generally expected to do serious pieces to demonstrate they deserve to be taken seriously. But they’re written from a certain viewpoint of what “serious” is. This fanzine aims, amongst other things, to give women and girls the chance to write about what they personally find important or interesting without worrying about the “NWAF, fuck off to Marie Claire” brigade getting on their case.

It also aims to do the opposite – provide the chance to be totally un-serious, daft, and even downright ridiculous. We’re here to take the piss. Out of those who think every article a woman writes needs to be some uberworthy “I get football, honest” type thing, out of the moody sub-casual cliched wank that gets aired all over the place these days, and, of course, not forgetting, out of ourselves for being, like, right on, yeah?

We aren’t arsed if the self appointed cool brigades don’t like it, we aren’t arsed about potential backlash from the NWAF crew, we aren’t arsed if it’s ridiculed, ignored or dismissed as the hormonal ramblings of a bunch of uppity whiney probably hairy legged man hating etc etc bitches who should stop going to the football and get back in the fucking kitchen rather than moaning about things that don’t concern them.

We aren’t arsed because we know that whenever someone tries to assert a cultural identity that differs from the norm, those who hold the cultural power in their hands feel uneasy with it. Terrace culture at present has been created by young white able bodied men and so that culture naturally values young white able bodied men and puts them at the top of the pecking order, the ideal to be adhered to. Anything that tries to create it’s own little space within the same arena but outside that mould is bound to be seen as a threat to the power held by those within it and so will be criticised, belittled, or dismissed. So we won’t be too surprised or bothered if certain people who fit that mould get a bit disturbed by our presence.

Anyway enough of the recycled cultural theory for now, there’s plenty of that coming in the rest of the blog, don’t worry… Enjoy it, and PLEASE send us feedback, letters, and contributions. We need your input, in any way, shape or form. Get scribbling, get snapping, get angry, GET INVOLVED.

Carly