When "Skins" first aired I was 8 years old. The first time I watched it was six years later, the summer leading up to my freshman year of high school. I’d heard it talked about for years, from friends and older sisters alike. When I first started watching it, I didn't know just how strongly the themes would translate into my own life for the next four years.
For those of you who don’t know, "Skins" is a British TV show that ran for seven seasons and six years on E4. Every two years the cast would change, making way for a new group of teenagers to fall in love or f*ck something up. The final season was almost like a movie, three two-part episodes for three of the fan favorite characters. Those final episodes were by far the most beautiful, cinematic things I’ve ever seen on television to date.
I’m 14, sitting in my bedroom rewatching "Skins" for what must be the 18th time. I could probably quote the show to you if you let me. I’m sitting in my ripped up denim jeans, combat boots, and oversized flannel. My makeup is smeared across my face and my hair is falling out of the fishtail it was in the day before. While I may look like a copy of many of Effy Stonem’s famous looks, in terms of my actual life, I’m far from it.
Fourteen was a hell hole of betrayals, eating disorders, depression, anxiety, and self harm. Fourteen was the year when I lived more through "Skins" than I did through my own life. It felt easier to watch them suffer than to watch myself. Plus, when I rewatched the show, I already knew how the episode would end—nothing could catch me off guard like it did in real life.
Three high schools later, I’ve graduated and made my way to college. I haven’t watched "Skins" since the final episode in August of 2013. But recently something inspired me to go back and watch it again. And I’ll admit, at times it was scary how much their lives mimicked what I’ve been doing for the past few years. I forgot how much I’d learned from the show. It was the first time people had discussed eating disorders, self harm, and mental health in a way that made me feel human instead of batshit crazy. It was the first time I looked at love as something outside of a romantic relationship. It was the first genuine example of a lesbian couple I’d ever seen on TV that wasn’t just sexualized or stereotyped. This show was a breakthrough for television in so many realms.
Let’s start with the characters I wanted to be when I was 14. Cassie, Effy and Mini were all these odd sort of idols of decrepit, broken heroines that I couldn’t help but look up to. They were just as fucked up as I was and let’s face it, who doesn’t want someone to be their partner in crime? Through Cassie I saw my eating disorder spiral out of control. Effy was my partner in all things mental even when neither of us wanted to admit it. Mini was the control freak, the one who needed everything to go perfectly all the time or so help us God. These were the girls who guided me through the next few years.
Effy’s in the middle of the street: I’m not scared I’m not scared! I want to be scared! I want to be hurt! She is my self harm, my partying, my overactive need to please.
When Cassie talks about loving Sid: Don't you wish you could go back to when you hadn't lost anything? Everything's in the future. More shit to happen, that's all. She is my trust issues, my fragility, my fear of everything new and changing.
Alo talking about Mini: I don’t think you know how to love anything. She is the reason I don’t date, the reason I don’t get attached and the reason I always seem to hold myself back.
While the show taught me about the dangerous aspects of life, these characters were also the ones who showed me how to let my guard down later on. The ones who told me it was OK to kiss the stranger and not be afraid of the party down the street. And while this doesn’t seem like the best advice, I think it was the advice I needed. I needed someone to show me how to let myself feel something for a change.
Some of the most beautiful, heart wrenchingly desperate storylines I’ve ever seen have come out of this show. This was the show that inspired me to write, the show that made me want to create characters as complex and powerful as they were to me. Because none of them fell into tropes—there wasn’t a manic, pixie dream girl and a bad boy. There weren’t any jocks or nerds. No one was categorized and that was the beauty in it—they were just people who liked to be together because they were people too.
The guys in this show have, in many ways, turned into examples of what I think I need in my own life. And maybe I’ve got it wrong, but there’s something to say for that too. I’ve dated the JJ, the Tony, the Nick. And maybe the reason they didn’t work out was because I was dating the wrong kinds of character—everyone wants a Chris in their life, a Cook and even an Alo. It’s been guys like them who let me actually embrace life in a way that I was far too scared to in the past.
Cook has been my favorite character since he first came on the show. Sure, he’s a trashy kid from Bristol who’s far too into womanizing and gets in trouble with the law more than most. But he’s charismatic, deeply caring, and ultimately one of the most complex characters I’ve ever seen. He’s unrelentingly watchful of Effy even though she’ll always be tied to Freddie. He protects his little brother in the best way he knows how. His loyalty to his friends not only makes him “give up the one person he’s ever loved,” but leads him to very dark places as the 4th season, and 7th season's conclusion (no spoilers here!). As Naomi said, he just “lives a little bit harder than everybody.”
Cook is a symbol of all that is fucked up and all that is special about people. His character development is astounding and the way he transforms from a seemingly worthless kid into a hero is a difficult feat for any writer, even Bryan Elsley and Jamie Brittain.
When Cook might go to jail: I just... He just... Freddie, man. I just couldn't stand the way she was fucking looking at him... And I was thinking, 'Why does everybody always get to piss on me?' Everybody always fucking pisses on me... My fucking mum. My fucking dad is a fucking tosser, and no one gives a shit. Everyone's just in it for them fucking selves.
Chris and Jal were the two characters who reflected everything I’d ever wanted in a friendship, a relationship, or a love. I related to Jal more than I wanted to admit—afraid of commitment, hatred of cheating, overly focused, ambitious and often times too careful. Chris was the opposite, the “fuck it” guy of the group. He wasn’t afraid to party, to let loose, to admit he wasn’t the person everyone wanted him to be. And that’s why they worked so well.
When Jal is mad at Chris: I don't know what I'm meant to say. I was perfectly happy killing myself, but then you asked me to try. And for the first time in my life it felt like someone actually gave a shit, and that that person was worth trying for. And... and now... I'd make the world record biggest sandwich if you asked me to. I'd kick old grannies in the tits. I'd fill the rivers with Panda Pops. I fucked up big time. I'm more than sorry. I love you Jal. You're my whole world.
I’m not sure how to credit "Skins" in the way it deserves. But these were the characters who taught me how to grow up, how to laugh and how to cry. There was something deeper in the final scene of Cook’s episode in Season 7. It wasn’t your typical TV show ending. It felt like someone was giving me their last pieces of advice, their last shreds of hope and blind sadness. This was the last time I’d get to see these characters as examples of not only how to live, but how to survive.
