Introducing Mamamia's new advice column: Dear Rosie... What would you do?

Welcome to ‘What Would You Do?’, the space on Mamamia where you can contact me with your problems about anything and everything and ask me, well, what I would do. Consider it my selfless Oprah-esque gift to all of humanity. You’re welcome.

But be warned, I’m not one to beat around the bush. I tell it like it is. I call ’em like I see ’em. I’m a straight shooter. Cliche cliche etc etc sassy advice cliche.

Let’s get into it:

Rosie, Rosie, Rosie – Please talk me out of becoming a vain idiot.

I’m (cough), a bit older than I used to be and I’m finding myself spending more moments than I should looking in the mirror and pulling my skin tight across my face, or holding my chin up with my hands, or puffing out my top lip to rid it of lines. I don’t feel old, but I look old, and I see all these women who are a similar age around me who look like they’ve been ironed on a hot setting. Help. I’m this close to taking out a loan, calling a clinic and becoming a vain fool.

– Anon

Oh anon.

Let’s be straight up here: Virtually every woman who gets Botox goes freaking bat-shit cray. We know this because virtually every woman who gets Botox walks around making a point of telling everybody that she ‘just gets a lot of sleep’ and drinks daily green vege-vomit from a mason jar.

NOBODY BELIEVES YOU CRAZY LADY.

When confronted with the dreaded Botox question, said lady will always attempt to raise her eyebrows in offended surprise. Which of course, she sadly cannot.

Botox is like the gateway drug of plastic surgery – and we all now how gateway drugs end up. One second you’re accepting a pot brownie at a party, and the next, you’re sitting on the floor of a crack den talking about existentialism in Home and Away with a purple unicorn called Jesus.

And if Botox is the pot brownie in that scenario, then the purple unicorn is getting paid by A Current Affair to talk about how you spent $79,000 trying to look like Sharon Stone in that movie where she flashes her lady-garden.

So I guess my point here Anon, is that it’s a slippery slope. In 90% of people, the Botox injection also fills your brain with some kind of ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ potion, which makes it impossible for you to tell when it’s time to back away from the needle.

If you want to do it, go for it, but keep an honest friend on speed dial who has no problem telling you that a dimple in your chin will actually just look like a bumhole on your face.

Dear Rosie,

I really want to buy these shoes:

Can you talk me out of it?

– Fashion Victim

Dearest Fashion Victim,

No. I will not talk you out of this.

Anybody who even momentarily entertains the possibility of wearing platform Birkenstocks deserves to be punished by being forced to buy and wear platform Birkenstocks.

Dear Rosie,

I’m currently studying at uni, and to make ends meet, I work in a bar seven nights a week. I don’t hate it, but it’s exhausting. I barely make enough to get by and I never get any free time. A friend of mine works as a lingerie waitress at a ‘gentleman’s club’ and she makes triple what I make, only doing two shifts a week.

I’m tempted Rosie. I’m really tempted. It’s the basically the job I have now, but in my undies and minus my shirt.

What would you do?

– Waitress

Yikes. Ok, waitress. I’m not against the concept of ladies using what they have to make a few bucks. If you’re comfortable with it, go for gold I say. Have fun smugly paying your rent while the rest of your uni friends pretend to enjoy serving people at Myer.

But here’s where I think you may possibly need to be talked out of this:

The upkeep. Oh holy Oprah the upkeep.

Let’s be honest here; the type of men who go to strip clubs aren’t exactly interested in being served drinks by a lady with a nice personality. Unless of course you’ve named your nipples ‘nice’ and ‘personality’. Working in a topless bar may mean you only have to work two shifts a week, but you’ll probably have to spend all the extra free time making sure your bod looks exactly the way those kinds of men expect your bod to look. One ounce of fat in the wrong place or a single hair anywhere other than your head will confuse and sadden them.

So, if you’re prepared for epic weekly upkeep that includes, but is not limited to, squatting on a table while a polite lady rips the hair out of your butt crack, then do it. All power to you.

I certainly couldn’t be bothered. One of my boobs is way lower than the other and I’m pretty sure the last time I shaved my legs was in 2013 (I’m single boys *sexywink*), so good for you if you’re prepared to go the distance.

Follow @RosieWaterland

If you want Rosie to talk you out of something, email her at rosie@mamamia.com.au and put ‘What would you do” in the subject line. Of course it will all be completely anonymous. And she’ll only judge you behind your back.