Emily in Paris is the perfect antidote for the horror real women are facing

Women are all too aware of the threat that men pose to them. From an early age we are conditioned to have our guard up, to learn self-defence tactics and take on the burden of protecting ourselves. And with good reason.

Between April 2022 and March 2023, 35 per cent of women killed in England and Wales were murdered by a partner or ex-partner, and a further 10 per cent were killed by a family member. In the same period, an estimated 1.4 million women aged 16 and over also experienced domestic abuse, and 93 victims of domestic abuse turned to suicide last year.

The onus shouldn’t be on women and girls to protect themselves, of course. But when faced with the alternative, there is very little choice.

Although many cases don’t make the headlines and other names that once dominated the news agenda fall into obscurity, we are reminded on a near-daily basis that our safety isn’t a given – that at any moment we, too, may end up in the news for similar reasons.

This week, we heard how in February, 38-year-old Miss Switzerland finalist Kristina Joksimovic was allegedly strangled, dismembered and then “pureed” in a blender by her husband.

Days after her Olympic debut in Paris this summer, Ugandan long-distance runner Rebecca Cheptegei was doused in petrol and set on fire by her ex-boyfriend in Kenya. She died after suffering 80 per cent burns on her body.

Currently, 72-year-old Gisele Pelicot is testifying against her suspected abusers in France, after she was allegedly raped by 72 men while unconcious – the assaults facilitated and filmed by her ex-husband.

And earlier in July, three women – mum Carol, 61, and her two daughters Hannah, 28, and Louise Hunt, 25 – were killed in a crossbow attack in their home in Bushey, Hertfordshire.

These are just a few recent examples, but they speak volumes to the violent reality most women face.

It’s why, when shows like Emily in Paris get a lot of hate for being too “girly”, too ridiculous or too basic, it makes me mad. Yes, it’s utterly absurd and completely suspended from reality, but that’s exactly why it’s so special – and needed.

In a world where we literally have to forego the most basic of rights and are constantly scared for our safety, why should we also sacrifice these small crumbs of joy? Why must everything be a reminder of the bleak times we live in?

For me, Emily in Paris is a comfort show. I watch it when I am sick, during gloomy, winter days, or when I’m feeling low. The storylines are predictable and highly improbable, but there’s something about it that provides solace. I love the over-the-top outfits, the will-they-won’t-they love triangles and the ever-glamorous backdrops of the City of Light.

What’s more, I love how Emily Cooper and Mindy Chen pretty much coast by in life. Getting promotions every other week for posting a few Instagram pics and coming up with a catchy strapline? Going semi-viral after singing in the streets of Rome? While many take this as an affront (especially professional marketers and singers), I find pleasure in the ease with which they rise the ranks and dominate in their respective fields – because, let’s face it, that doesn’t happen at all in real life.

I witnessed similar, negative reactions to Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour this summer, with lots of people online taking the p*** out of Swifties for, well, existing. How dare they buy beads and thread and make friendship bracelets. How dare they dress up in cowboy boots and rainbow-coloured, sequinned dresses.

But again, for me, this signalled something beautiful: women and girls coming together to celebrate their mutual love for Taylor and her music.

I was fortunate enough to get tickets to one of the Wembley dates, but even in the days leading up to my turn, it was a pure delight to see so many fans on the streets, making their way there. There’s something comforting in the exchange of knowing looks, as if to say, “I know where you’re headed. Have fun!”.

When it was finally my turn and I witnessed the Eras Tour for myself, it really cemented things for me. I saw hundreds of thousands of fans belting out her songs, exchanging bracelets and taking care of one another – and it was a much-needed antidote for the horror going on in the world, a reminder that, actually, there is still some good in it.

There was an attempt to thwart that good itself in due course, with the terrorist threat posed to fans in Vienna. And you know what they did? Swifties took to the streets anyway and sang their way through her discography to prove that love is stronger than hate.

Women and girls face everyday horrors. And if we aren’t experiencing those horrors ourselves, we are reading about them in the news and wondering, “when will it be me?”.

So, if for a few hours in the day we can escape that reality and the ever-present threat looming over us to indulge in some lighthearted entertainment; why shouldn’t we be allowed to do that without criticism?