Not Quite a Geordie by Holly Hagan

Author:Holly Hagan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781784182151
Publisher: John Blake Publishing
Published: 2014-10-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

MAGALUF MADNESS

It was the legendary Coco Chanel who once said, ‘A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life’, and she wasn’t wrong. I’d not only cut my tresses but dyed them a bright, cherry-red hue, too. Gone was the mass of black and blonde straggly extensions; now I had luscious scarlet locks. It had been an impulse decision at the hairdressers one afternoon, but ever since my mane modification, things had started to look up.

I’d also been on a diet and managed to lose a stone in four weeks, an incredible achievement for a McDonald’s addict like me. The diet was nothing special, just smaller healthier meals. Basically if you couldn’t kill it, catch it or pick it, I wouldn’t eat it. Absolutely nothing processed was passing my lips. It’s amazing what you can do with a little determination and self-motivation. And there was nothing more motivating than those two fear-inspiring words: ‘bikini season’. With that in mind, I was hell-bent on getting my ass into shape.

I was about to parade myself on TV in a two-piece while partying in Magaluf on the Majorcan isle because Geordie Shore had been commissioned for a summer special and they wanted me back in the mix.

At first I didn’t want to be part of the show again. For me the first series had been extremely heartbreaking and I wanted nothing more to do with the other housemates, but the producers were determined to persuade me to come back and give the whole thing another go. They explained the summer special could be my chance to turn it all around. I could see what they were saying, but it took me a while before I came to my decision.

For a few days I thought long and hard about it, reflecting on my behaviour and the way I came across onscreen. If I’m totally honest, I realised that maybe I was partly to blame. I hadn’t been myself in the first series; I’d been the person that I thought they wanted me to be. Vicky was right – I wasn’t being real. I was just trying to fit in, in all the wrong ways.

It was only after I bumped into Greg on a night out in Newcastle that I finally changed my mind. We had a little chat and I explained why I was dubious about going back. Greg had also felt a little left out at the beginning and understood where I was coming from. He actually rang the rest of the lads individually before we filmed in Magaluf and told them to give me a chance. He didn’t need to do it, but I’ll always be so grateful he did. I never properly thanked him… until now: Greg, thank you – you don’t know how much that meant to me.

So there I was, with my hair dyed a marvellous shade of shocking red (the kind that would be popular with Parisian tarts, I should imagine), boarding a flight to Magaluf.

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