Strung out: a group of German girls out walking, with musical accompaniment from mandolin and guitars, 1930s. Photo: Getty
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For folk’s sake, I was supposed to be a mandolin virtuoso by now

When you approach 25, it suddenly hits you that you’re never going to be an astronaut. Or an architect. Or a folk sensation. 

The mandolin is in Wolverhampton now. I sent it there when I realised, once and for all, that I’m about as musical as a Nickelback tribute band.

Before I eBayed it, the mandolin would sit in the corner of my room, gathering dust while I gathered guilt. It dates back to my 19-year-old douchebag Mumford and Sons phase. I decided I was going to be a folk sensation, learned three chords, noticed (after about a week) that my skill had peaked at a naive rendition of “You Are My Sunshine”, and gave up.

I’m 25 this year. When you approach a quarter-century, with no skills other than the ability to put words in order, it suddenly hits you that you’re never going to be an astronaut. Or an architect. Or a condiment magnate. The phrase “too late” assumes a certain new gravitas.

My first ever aspiration was to be a policeman-doctor-pirate – with a gun. My parents were fully supportive of my three-year-old self’s chosen career path and I was indulged: presented with a policeman’s helmet, a pirate’s eyepatch, a toy stethoscope and a cap gun, and sent forth into the world. The “you can do anything” ethos imparted to children by middle-class parents is intoxicating. When I wanted to be Batman, I got a Batman costume for my birthday. When I wanted to become a cartoonist, I was told that my doodles were masterpieces. When I wanted to become an archaeologist, I was taken on trips to the British Museum and was even given a metal detector for Christmas. When I failed to detect anything more interesting than a rusty nail, I gave up on that, too.

At 25, you realise the world is no longer your oyster. It’s more like one of those mussels that won’t open – the ones you’re told to ignore unless you fancy a bout of explosive diarrhoea. When there are about seven proper jobs to share between hundreds of thousands of graduates, whimsy and capriciousness are your worst enemy. And when you’re on to even a slightly good thing, career-wise, giving it up to become a flautist or a cult leader is a decidedly dense move.

I was supposed to be a mandolin virtuoso by now. I’m not. But while I was bubble-wrapping my mandolin, I realised that most of life’s dreams are incredibly stupid. That’s why they’re dreams.

In the X Factor age, there’s so much unnecessary stigma attached to giving up on dreams. We are constantly told that if we try hard enough, we can go from obese agoraphobes to Olympic triathletes. It’s bullshit – give up on that dream today. Remember, though, it’s never too late for politics, or porn.

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.

This article first appeared in the 14 April 2014 issue of the New Statesman, Easter Double

Photo: Getty Images
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Why are boundary changes bad for Labour?

New boundaries, a smaller House of Commons and the shift to individual electoral registration all tilt the electoral battlefield further towards the Conservatives. Why?

The government has confirmed it will push ahead with plans to reduce the House of Commons to 600 seats from 650.  Why is that such bad news for the Labour Party? 

The damage is twofold. The switch to individual electoral registration will hurt Labour more than its rivals. . Constituency boundaries in Britain are drawn on registered electors, not by population - the average seat has around 70,000 voters but a population of 90,000, although there are significant variations within that. On the whole, at present, Labour MPs tend to have seats with fewer voters than their Conservative counterparts. These changes were halted by the Liberal Democrats in the coalition years but are now back on course.

The new, 600-member constituencies will all but eliminate those variations on mainland Britain, although the Isle of Wight, and the Scottish island constituencies will remain special cases. The net effect will be to reduce the number of Labour seats - and to make the remaining seats more marginal. (Of the 50 seats that would have been eradicated had the 2013 review taken place, 35 were held by Labour, including deputy leader Tom Watson's seat of West Bromwich East.)

Why will Labour seats become more marginal? For the most part, as seats expand, they will take on increasing numbers of suburban and rural voters, who tend to vote Conservative. The city of Leicester is a good example: currently the city sends three Labour MPs to Westminster, each with large majorities. Under boundary changes, all three could become more marginal as they take on more wards from the surrounding county. Liz Kendall's Leicester West seat is likely to have a particularly large influx of Tory voters, turning the seat - a Labour stronghold since 1945 - into a marginal. 

The pattern is fairly consistent throughout the United Kingdom - Labour safe seats either vanishing or becoming marginal or even Tory seats. On Merseyside, three seats - Frank Field's Birkenhead, a Labour seat since 1950, and two marginal Labour held seats, Wirral South and Wirral West - will become two: a safe Labour seat, and a safe Conservative seat on the Wirral. Lillian Greenwood, the Shadow Transport Secretary, would see her Nottingham seat take more of the Nottinghamshire countryside, becoming a Conservative-held marginal. 

The traffic - at least in the 2013 review - was not entirely one-way. Jane Ellison, the Tory MP for Battersea, would find herself fighting a seat with a notional Labour majority of just under 3,000, as opposed to her current majority of close to 8,000. 

But the net effect of the boundary review and the shrinking of the size of the House of Commons would be to the advantage of the Conservatives. If the 2015 election had been held using the 2013 boundaries, the Tories would have a majority of 22 – and Labour would have just 216 seats against 232 now.

It may be, however, that Labour dodges a bullet – because while the boundary changes would have given the Conservatives a bigger majority, they would have significantly fewer MPs – down to 311 from 330, a loss of 19 members of Parliament. Although the whips are attempting to steady the nerves of backbenchers about the potential loss of their seats, that the number of Conservative MPs who face involuntary retirement due to boundary changes is bigger than the party’s parliamentary majority may force a U-Turn.

That said, Labour’s relatively weak electoral showing may calm jittery Tory MPs. Two months into Ed Miliband’s leadership, Labour averaged 39 per cent in the polls. They got 31 per cent of the vote in 2015. Two months into Tony Blair’s leadership, Labour were on 53 per cent of the vote. They got 43 per cent of the vote. A month and a half into Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership, Labour is on 31 per cent of the vote.  A Blair-style drop of ten points would see the Tories net 388 seats under the new boundaries, with Labour on 131. A smaller Miliband-style drop would give the Conservatives 364, and leave Labour with 153 MPs.  

On Labour’s current trajectory, Tory MPs who lose out due to boundary changes may feel comfortable in their chances of picking up a seat elsewhere. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog. He usually writes about politics.