Letters, Photos and Other Random Oddments......

As spring starts to tentatively poke its head round the corner of our lives, it teases us with day light as we leave work, clear blue skies and the promise of our favourite fashion houses spring/summer collections becoming available to buy, not just drool over in Vogue. With winter just about out of sight and out of mind, it’s a natural time for new starts, new dreams and new goals. It’s a time when it’s out with old drab greyness and in with the light, bright, shiny newness that only a new start can bring. And sometimes that start needs to be where it all begins, at home.

I’m not sure if it was the early morning sunshine dazzling my brain or maybe some freak organization gene from the mothership had, after nearly thirty years, chosen to surface but I decided this week I would sort through my memory box(es) and it would appear I am a little bit of a secret hoarder.

Sorting through the piles of letters, photos and random oddments, I couldn’t help but smile. I saw before me a life filled with adventures, friendships and dreams achieved, that I didn’t always fully appreciate. Endless wrist bands from summers spent at festivals, air line ticket stubs from flights I had long since been on, along with faded receipts and past birthday cards. I had kept them all, shoved into boxes and bags, it was a life, in memories, laid on the floor like a Jackson Pollock collage attempt. Tears and laughter filled me as I read nearly twenty five years worth of letter writing to my oldest friend. These hand written letters (often with pictures!) detail our childhood dreams in scarily graphic detail. The nick names we had for each other, the jokes we shared and boys we fancied were all documented. Clearly mini feminists, neither of us wanted a boyfriend. Instead we were felt adoption was the way forward.  This was of course once we had returned from travelling the world together. In a caravenette. Funny how turning into teenagers changed those plans somewhat! 

There was, as every memory box has, the last scraps of old relationships. Flicking briefly through scrap books of memories ex boyfriends had made me, piles of hand written cards containing long ago broken promises and travel books for all the places we talked of going but never made it to. I realised the tears had long since dried from the disappointments these relationships had left me with, so why do we hold on to these things? Looking at faded receipts of restaurants we had been to, cinema tickets from my first date (that would have been Independence Day then) and the chewing gum wrapper I had kept my from when my first crush had given me a piece from his packet, I realised that some memories were fine in your head or shared over vino with girls. They no longer really had a place in my memory box.

Moving on to flicking through piles of photographs (yep paper photos that were developed from disposable cameras!!), giggling at my University days and somewhat astounded at how composed and glamorous we looked at 21 years old. Whilst most of the pictures aren’t the sort you would show your mother, the memories and giggles were fantastic.  Looking at our  21 years old self’s , fresh from full time education, all you really have to go into the real world with is idealistic dreams, hope and (if you’re lucky) good skin. Without a real sense of style, class or who you are, it’s like being a teenager in an adult body - full time work, adult relationships and really growing up is all part of the next 10 years journey.

As I looked at all the memories that I had saved over the years, all the things that had changed and all the things that had been learnt from were staring straight back at me. Every card and picture told a story of which we were so certain that these were our concrete plans, totally unaware that life had other ideas for us. But what surprised me the most was what hasn’t changed over all these years. Who we are doesn’t ever really change, as in the true essence of us. Yes we move goals, achieve dreams and aim higher in the next dream but the person we are remains the same. With my memory box cleared out , space has been created for new memories to be made.As I sorted through what to send to the recycling and what to keep I can only hope the next thirty years are as amazing, laughter filled, fun times as these first thirty have been xX

Women should be two things, classy and fabulous.........

Surviving a break up in style is a mission that we are all on at some point. Sometimes it is totally our choice and sometimes it’s the path we are pushed down but either way learning to do it in style is an essential life skill. The thing is, being totally honest, it is a hard challenge to walk to moral high ground, let alone do it in five inch heels, but walk it we should and to do with style is a must. We have all been there, when a relationship ends and your emotions decide it is time to take some time out to ride an emotional roller coaster. Irrelevant of who ended it, the forth coming weeks are going to be somewhat interesting emotionally and physically. As human beings we have around 3000 thoughts a day and for a while most of them will be hurt / anger/ sadness filled ones but there will come a time when the past won’t even feature in one of them. So ladies grab your tissues, delete his number and be kind to yourself ...........

Have you time and watch a film – Funny and/or feel good are the way to go. Recommended viewing for those who are feeling a little emotionally raw include Eat, Love, Pray (be warned you will want to grab your passport, pack your bags and head off into a beautiful sunset asap), Sex and the City (hell, if Carrie can be stood up at New York Central Library in Vivienne Westwood, it can happen to any of us. She remained stylish and classy, watch and learn) and He’s Just Not That In To You (harsh but truthful lessons to be learnt, view it as a future prevention method). Simply put the DVD in, switch off your phone, grab a duvet, make a cuppa and get ready to feel better.

Do not, under any circumstance, watch The Break Up (are you insane?! Far too real and raw at this time), Disney’s Up (after the first 15 minutes you will inconsolable. Grown men have been known to cry at this and a word of warning from personal experience do not watch on a flight to New York, in full view of random strangers, slightly awkward) and Blue Valentine (heart breakingly sad, tear inducing and scarily relatable. However this is a little softened by the presence of the lovely Ryan Gosling, but still should probably be saved until you are feeling a little less delicate).

Keep in line with social etiquette – This is hugely important one to adhere to. Yes of course you are very hurt by his lies / cheating / vulgar/ draining/ demanding behaviour and yes you have every right to want to stamp on his head with a stiletto. But it is not dignified or respectful yourself or to what you had to be running around town calling him every name under the sun as tempting as that might be. This is what your house is for, those wonderful four walls will listen and never repeat you wails of ‘how dare he?’, unlike your local gossip girls. Ditto goes for his new girlfriend, yes everyone can see her bum is clearly twice the size of yours, yes we can all see her behaviour is cheap, yes its well known she is clearly desperate and/or pathetic to be mopping up your discarded emotional rubbish (even if his friends are laughing at that too) and yes it is very clear she has no style, but whatever you do, don’t join in. You will only come across as bitter and upset, even if you (and the world) know that what you think is just the simple truth. Do not sink to that level under any circumstances. Say nothing, not a peep. Instead, and this can be the hardest part, take a deep breath, slap on your lippy (age old advise from the mother ship, always given in the time of crisis), grab your gorgeous girls and in your highest heels walk the moral high ground.

You Are What You Eat – As tempting as it is to sob into a giant family size pizza, wipe your tears on Green & Blacks finest and consume the vino at a rate that would make a rugby boy blush, feeling fat on top of everything else is not the way forward. As the calorific high wears off you will just be left feeling a million times worse. So before your cellulite starts laughing at you, grab the carrot sticks, diet coke and your running shoes. Buy new clothes, new shoes, new makeup and feel fabulous about you. After all when you hit the town with the girls you want to look your best for any future prince charmings.  

Coco Chanel famously once said – ‘Women should be two things, classy and fabulous.’ Wise words from the twentieth century’s most iconic and stylish woman, and ones we should, as adults, live by. Of course we will fall apart, cry, get drunk and feel eternally grateful for our beautiful friends for the endless chats and texts of support. We will feel regret, sadness and wish we could turn back time, but this needs to be done in a private not on every social network site we can get on. So keep your heels and standards high as you take the moral high ground, what we leave behind is nothing compared to what’s ahead of us xX

Is it a girls world?: Valentines - Are you giving or receiving........?

Is it a girls world?: Valentines - Are you giving or receiving........?: Each and every one of us have skills that we develop over time, these are the things we get know, love, use and enjoy. We journey through li...

Valentines - Are you giving or receiving........?

Each and every one of us have skills that we develop over time, these are the things we get know, love, use and enjoy. We journey through life learning, experiencing and developing our knowledge base for these skills. Sometimes this is a conscience choice, a new qualification to change or progress our carers, it could be the decision to explore a new religious enlightenment or maybe to learn a new skill with friends. But we also develop skills without any intention such as coping mechanisms for broken hearts, shopping and the love of beautiful shoes. Some skills we are born with, some we develop over time and some are simply learning curves thrust upon us but however we get them we should try and use them. For me my skill set is a developed knowledge base made up of shoes, vintage, make up, friendship, yoga, shopping and writing down my procrastinating thoughts in to a weekly readable format. My skill set does not really feature a knowledge of filo faxes, cars, the concept of ironing or Valentine’s day. So it is with some in trepidation that I start scribbling and babbling about Valentine’s day.

Racking my brains and trying to rouse as much knowledge as possible about Valentines my thoughts turned to my own previous (and very limited experience). As I pondered the ghosts of boyfriends past and raked through the faded memories they had given me, I realised that Valentines was something I had never really done. Don’t get me wrong, I have been given flowers, been wined and dined in restaurants and had professions of love from some of those men - but all of those things happened on the other 364 days of the year. None of them ever felt the need to save these adventures until the 14^th Feb. Does that mean they didn’t care? Did their lack (or indeed my own lack) of arranging tables, buying pressies and avoiding the persistent adverts from Interflora mean they didn’t have feelings for me? Should they have dug deep, paid for expensive spa treatments and had huge bouquets of flowers delivered to work on the 14^th February just to prove they did?

What’s interesting about Valentine’s Day is this almost unspoken, very quiet excitement that bubbles away at the opportunity to disclose you inner most feelings to someone. For all the single girls it is a time of excitement, the consideration of sending a card and the scary anticipation that you may be receiving one. For loved up couples it is a guilt free opportunity to spend some romantic time together away from the everyday commitments of work, children and life. But what do we girls actually want from the big day? From both personal experience and from what friends have shared, the general rule is that the grander the gesture, the less it means. For all the hearts, flowers and OTT gestures, they mean nothing when they swiftly followed by ‘I’m sorry – I have.................’ Nothing quite like a bombshell to watch the flowers swiftly wilt and the chocolate to magically just stick themselves on your hips. For us girls it really is the simple things, a card, breakfast in bed, to be wanted by the person we care about the most, and lots of cuddles. As my oldest, most beautiful (and wisest) friends said, you shouldn’t need Hallmark to remind you to show your love.

Always keen to add to a skill set, I feel Valentines is something that, whilst I still have a lot to learn, it is something that I am learning about. The big surprise from all this learning was from the men who talked about Valentine’s Day. I have text, facebooked, tweeted, emailed and, when needed, stalked my male friends up and down the country in search of answers as to what Valentines actually means to them. Is it something they really cared about or is it just a hassle they daren’t avoid for fear of a teary eyed girl, sobbing to her friends that he forgot? Each of them answered me and then asked the same two things to my questions  –

1.    My answer won’t be published in anyway will it?

2.    What would your perfect Valentines be?

So, as promised fella’s, rest assured, your secrets are safe with me. But what I will say is that out of all the men I spoke to (and I spoke to lots!), only 3 mentioned wanting anything materialistic. None were bothered by big gestures or going out for meals. It appears ladies, as with us, simplicity and thought are the way forward. And as for my perfect Valentines? Well that’s easy, but that is also my secret! xX

Valentines - The Prequel........ xX

‘Romance is dead. It was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece.’ Matt Greoning. The Simpsons.

It was few weeks ago, back in the middle of a cold, windy and wet January that I first felt the cold trickle of dread wash over me. Mid January, mid diet, mid detox and subsequently mid way through losing my sanity, I was snuggled in bed reading Vogue. Enjoying the voyeurism and escapism of such delights as Dior, Prada and Chanel, I sipped my boiled water with lemon (gotta love a detox!) and was thinking skinny thoughts.  As I turned the page my heart sunk at the sight of the next article. Copenhagen V Paris for Valentine’s Day. What?! How did we go from couture to car crash in the flick of a page? One minute I’m in shoe lusting heaven, the next I’ve been kicked into advertising hell. My initial reaction was where have all the beautiful things I can’t afford but aspire too gone, swiftly followed by how about neither is an option?! Silently cursing the beloved Anna Wintour, her style, her perfection and now her love life, it was now apparent that she now had the monopoly on Valentine’s Day too. Feeling fat, frumpy and depressingly style less I needed to take action before I ended up in my pj's (the really comfy, 10 year old ones, not the Anna Wintour, Agent Provocateur type) , on the vino singing 'All by Myself'. Yes ladies we all know that slippery slope. Before you could say Bridget Jones I had made up my mind drastic action was needed. Something involving champagne, fashion and cynics of the cursed St Valentines sprung to mind.

Now before all the single girls raise their arms in the air, pop open some bubbles and meaningfully start a cats chorus of Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’ to any ex you can think off and the loved up ladies, roll their eyes, clutch their man even tighter and declare all Valentine’s non lovers bitter, twisted souls I must point out this isn’t a single v taken debate. This is really more of an objective look at the materialism of such a celebration with attempted minimal cynicism. Or maybe it’s a contest to see how many ‘isms’ one can get in to ones blog!! The confusion, at least for me, comes from the exploitation of an emotion that is one of life’s greatest freebies. To me falling in love will be a totally unique experience and I am not convinced Hallmark will be able to conjure up a card that conveys the complexity of those emotions to my chosen beloved. There are also 364 other perfectly good days in the year to express your feelings in any way you want and does not involve the tacky red heart brigade.  
 
The next day as I read the New York Times on line, attempting to absorb the culture, I was a little stunned to see that some brilliant journalist had kindly submitted an article (that was published!!) selecting the best Valentine’s Day shoes?! Now I’m a shoe lover, in fact the word obsessive may have been bantered around on occasions and yes I have had to hide the true extent of my collection from friends and family but I have never once thought, Oh, Valentine’s! I need new shoes.....’ And for the record, I don’t have an addiction. Just a strong and very deep love!  But it’s not just The New York Times who are using anything to sell us the dream of St Valentines. Ebay have emailed selling elegant and classic dresses for Valentine’s day, Agent Provocateur are urging us to ‘lie back and think of knickers’, Net A Porter feel the key to an excellent romance is in the correct mix of accessories and Apple feel an iPad 2 is a great Valentine’s day pressie, just a token gesture then.... Even MTV are in on the action, for just £1 a text you can vote for your favourite love song of all time.

With all the pressure of such eloquent and persistent advertising being thrust upon thick and fast only time will tell what St Valentines will bring us and which way we will go. Whether we succumb to Interflora’s finest, keep it low key and personal or boycott the entire thing one thing is for sure  as the day its self looms ever closer I can’t help but find myself asking, if you’re doing it, are you are giver or a receiver?

TBC xX