Why do we read style magazines like this? We read magazines like this because they give us access to a glamorous world that doesn’t actually exist, not even in the wildest dreams of P-Diddy. We’d all love to live our lives as thought they were part of one long, extended fashion shoot, surrounded by beautiful objects and beautiful people, but life isn’t like that. We like magazines like this because they let us dream; they fuel our aspirations, but they also fuel our frustrations. And with that in mind, I’m going to tell you exactly what frustrates me. I’m sick of writing about how great it is to live here, about the great steps forward, about the possibilities for change. So I’m going to tell you exactly why I hate Romania.

I’m sick of listening to intelligent young people who are stupid enough to claim that they “aren’t racist but don’t like gypsies”. I’m sick of hearing anecdotes about how gypsies eat swans in other counties and give Romanians a bad name abroad. I’m sick of people failing to appreciate that poverty, not race, makes people anti-social, badly behaved, or criminal. I’m sick of people telling me that they’d never employ a gypsy, when my gypsy friends with university degrees can’t find jobs. I’m sick of people telling me that I need to live here longer to properly ‘understand’ the gypsy problem, as though supporting basic human rights is something adolescent, something that you grow out of. I’m sick of people saying the same things about gypsies that were said in 1950s America about black people. In fact, I’m sick of people who think that they can make sweeping generalisations about blacks when everything they know about black culture is learned from MTV and the Discovery Channel.

I’m sick of wondering to myself exactly what other peoples parents do, or did, to get their money in such a poor country. I’m sick of the shadow of the ex-Securitate looming over everything that happens here. I’m sick of knowing the children of people who did terrible things in the past. I’m sick of the fact that the people who can afford to appreciate art and music and culture, and who can go out to clubs, and watch western films, and dress in fashionable clothes, generally do so thanks to compromises made by their parents. I’m sick of the Romanian nouveaux riche, who think that termopan windows are a sign of good taste, and who would rather build horrendous villas in the North of Bucharest than help to rehabilitate the beautiful buildings in the city centre.

I’m sick of the way Romanians talk. I’m sick of the word ‘civilisat’ – “e mult mai civilisat acolo’. It’s the kind of language that should have died out along with colonialism, which the word was used to justify. I’m sick of people believing that Romanians are somehow ‘less civilised’ than other people, as though holes in the road were a sign of national stupidity, rather than rampant corruption. You want to see uncivilised? I’ll show you uncivilised. Uncivilised is the richest country on earth also having one of the highest levels of child poverty (the USA ). Uncivilised is a country where there are far more homeless people on the streets than you’ll ever see in Bucharest ( Britain ). Uncivilised is a country which executes people, even for crimes committed when they were under 18 (the USA again).

In fact, I’m sick of people who idolise the west. I’m sick of people who think that copying western habits, western clothes, stupid western traditions like Halloween or Valentines day, makes them a better person – the kind of people who pretend not to like Sarmale because they want to show how occidental they are. The one thing I’m sick of is people who are ashamed of being Romanian.

I hope that you’ve been offended by this. Please feel free to write to Elle and complain. Because one thing I’m sick of is never getting any letters…