“There is freedom in grey hair and elastic waistbands. We, my sisters, are at the pointy end of a revolution. Our skills are our pitchforks, and fury is our flaming torch. We can laugh at ourselves too, but any bloke that chides us or stands in our way will find himself strung up by the goolies.’”
-The Flushed and The Furious
The Sisterhood of the Flying Fuck Fairy
As a superpower, invisibility is awesome. As a future, it sucks.
It’s just one of the non-optional extras that come with the approach of menopause. For some, it’s a biological asteroid crash, leaving a deep, smouldering impact zone.
Swimming against a tide of misogyny, ageism and medical mansplaining, a humble Book Club morphs into The Sisterhood of the Flying Fuck Fairy, an enraged cadre of menopause anarchists.
In their fight for women’s health rights at any age, the Sisterhood battles trolls, toxic masculinity, political self-interest and quite often each other. They’re angry, and no one does angry like a woman whose oestrogen has gone awol. Especially after a couple of gins.
If being seriously ticked off isn’t enough, they’ve also got their hands on a secret weapon.