"Great LezBritian" is a fortnightly stroll through the very best of British lesbo-centric entertainment and culture. Plus there will be some jolly good interviews with the top ladies who are waving the flag for gay UK.
So here we are finally watching Lip Service after months and months of full on c–k-teasing by the BBC. It’s like we’ve been having a long-term online relationship with Lip Service and we’re finally meeting for the first time. We’ve dressed up and we’re a little bit drunk.
While we waited, we watched Anne Lister — which was really very good — but we’ll be glad of some modern day action. We also watched bits of The Real L Word so we’ll be glad of something that doesn’t make us feel violently sick.
The first scene opens on a sunny street.
Lee: But this doesn’t look like Glasgow? It looks like New York?
So Frankie is in New York, being a photographer and being a lesbian with her tattoos, chain on her jeans, short tousled hair and of course vest-top-with-no-bra. One minute in and we’re already seeing the absence of bra *joint fist pump*.
She’s taking photos of a model or a singer or something who checks Frankie out at every opportunity – and Frankie has the smirky face of someone that knows in a few moments she’s going to be having sex against a wall. The model keeps blah blah blahing about her boyfriend but stops when Frankie says:
In the blink of an eye Frankie moves in for the kill, two minutes in and we’ve already got a hand down some pants *second joint fist pump*
Just then a woman named Karen calls and ruins the party. Bugger you, Karen, and your ill-timing.
Frankie’s aunt has died and when she gets off the phone, Frankie tells the model that her uncle and aunt brought her up when her parents died. The model says she’s sorry, but Frankie’s acts like she is not sorry at all.
Takes top off and resumes position with model.
Frankie is dark.