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Sep 10, 2024 | 
reallygoodtomatoes.substack.com | Franki Cookney
Really Good Tomatoes is a newsletter about culture, behaviour, food, art, relationships, pleasure, politics, work, environment, identity, and society. In short, it is a newsletter about life, and the things that give it meaning. It is written by me - Franki - a freelance writer and Tired Person™️. So if you’re enjoying it, now would be a really good time to consider upgrading to a paid subscription. It costs £4/month or £40/year.
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Aug 14, 2024 | 
theguardian.com | Franki Cookney
The things that happen with lips and tongues and hands are completely discounted in the latest misguided sex study, says host of The Second Circle podcast Franki Cookney
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Jan 22, 2024 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
“I’m physical affection, my wife is words of affirmation,” my friend texts me. Over Instagram, a colleague tells me, “I used to be a quality-time girl but lately I’ve been moving towards acts of service.” “Oh my god my boyfriend is such a gift-giver,” laughs my cousin. I’ve sent out a load of messages to my friends, colleagues and family, asking them if they know what their love languages are. That so many are able to ping me back instantly is not surprising.
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Jan 17, 2024 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
“For the past year I feel like all we’ve talked about, all anyone’s asked us about, is if and when we’re going to move in together,” my friend Holly* tells me. “And at some point, we sat down and went ‘Wait a minute… do either of us actually want to live together?’”Holly and her boyfriend are in their thirties and have been dating for a few years, so moving in together seemed like the obvious next step.
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Jan 7, 2024 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
About a third of the way into Barbie, Ryan Gosling’s Ken tries to persuade Barbie to let him come along on her adventure. He has, he explains, made a bet with (another) Ken and the thought of losing face is panic-inducing. “You can’t make me look uncool in front of Ken,” he pleads. When Barbie replies, exasperated, “Ken’s not cool!” he turns his head away.
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Dec 23, 2023 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
Two weeks before Christmas, I had a hair appointment. As I sat before the wall of mirrors, eavesdropping on other people’s tales of festive stress, I was treated to some sage wisdom. “What you want to do,” my stylist said, as he pasted dye onto a section of hair, foil crackling with each brush stroke, “is at some point you’ve got to take yourself out for like a 40-minute walk.
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Dec 18, 2023 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
If you meet someone on a night out, do you ask for their number? If you match with someone on a dating app, do you move the chat to WhatsApp? If the answer is yes, I’m sorry to say you’re out of touch. These days, the slickest move is to follow each other on Instagram. According to Instagram’s 2024 trends report, over a quarter of Gen Zs globally make the first move by swapping Instagrams. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken them so long to notice.
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Dec 11, 2023 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
A few years ago I met a man. He slid into my DMs one day and we got chatting. After a while, I suggested we go for a drink. I was enjoying flirting and the logical thing to do, I thought, was to meet up in person. So I was baffled when, while not exactly turning me down, he just sort of… ignored the question. This went on for several months. He would text me, I would reply, and at some point I’d say “Shall we get that drink then?” He’d express interest but trying to make a plan was like pulling teeth.
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Dec 6, 2023 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
What do you think of when you imagine the “perfect relationship”? Maybe you picture amicability; the promise of being “best friends” as well as lovers. Maybe it’s fidelity; a couple so committed that nothing could turn their heads. Or, maybe it looks like longevity; an older couple raising a toast on their 50th wedding anniversary, still in love “after all these years”.
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Dec 4, 2023 | 
independent.co.uk | Franki Cookney
When my youngest child was about seven months old, I was sitting on the sofa, half-watching whatever was on the telly, half-debating whether 8:30pm was too early to go to bed, when my husband, who was sitting next to me, went to stroke my hair. Far from welcoming it as an expression of care, I did something I don’t think I’d ever done before. I flinched. To him, it was merely a gesture of affection, but to me at that moment, it felt like an unspoken request for sex.
