Flaps is this scummy little, plain nobody, living on a new build estate, doing nothing with her unimportant, irrelevant life. Yet she has the audacity to try & give herself some hyped up knowledgeable status. Like a tragic finger on the button of all things fashionable & beautifying.
The way she addresses the camera as if she actually thinks there are 1000s of girlies, lovelies, guuuuys hanging onto her every dire word. That what she has to say is of any interest. Her soulless, dead eyes darting around under old men eyebrows, nervously wondering how she ever gets away with such spoken shite.
That truly awful 'vocal fry' she tries out to make herself sound more 'in & now.' The endless hand flapping and finger pointing to enunciate every bit of drivel. Tripping over her words, her fat, cow like tongue struggling with basic phonics. The rubbery lips, misshapen, over injected, under kissed, struggling to show a hint of a smile.
The over emphasis on certain words such as 'so amazing' - 'the best ever' - so that she can sound genuine & heartfelt. The under nourished, skinny little boys body she shows off in shapeless grey clothes. If she didn't have the bolt ons you'd be hard pressed to guess her sex.
She's living in some weird world, where she doesn't know any better than the next like or follow from a few strangers. Her husband does not love her in any shape or form. Her eldest son is seemingly choosing to live away from her. Her youngest has obvious problems which she is ignoring and letting him down badly. Who in God's name would want to be 'influenced' by her? Not me.