The Crossroads.......

If we are lucky ladies, we can travel through our lives, happy with our lot, feeling we are reaching all our dreams. But often when we least expect it we are suddenly bought to a screeching holt at an unexpected cross road. Maybe it's a redundancy from a dream job, maybe it’s the man of your dreams ending your relationship, a bereavement or a friendship being broken, but whatever the event it causes our lives to grind to a stop. As we sit dazed, reeling from the heart ache and upset we have been hit by, we find ourselves perched on the side lines of our own lives, and it can be hard to imagine how all your dreams went so very wrong. Sometimes we give too much, sometimes too much is taken from us and sometimes with all the best will in the world we just didn't see it coming.
This week, my life having unexpectedly slammed on at a new cross roads, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. As I gazed around looking for any signs of life I realised that I had inadvertently taken life's runaway train that had landed me and my Louboutins at the corner of Heartbroken Avenue and Lost Lane. As I gazed around trying to get my bearings I swiftly realised I was a long way from happiness and home. Like any girl worth her weight in vino, I started by dusting down my Whistles skirt, dabbing on the Touche Eclat, running the GHD's through my hair and adding a chic coat of Chanels long lasting lipstick in 'boy' (oh the irony!). Any girl in this position knows this is often the only way forward through a heartbreak. And forward we must go.....

Top Tips For Your Cross Road Arrival and Survival.

·         You are going to cry. A lot. Some times in public places. Always carry a clean kleenex and lay off the eye liner, panda eyes are just plain scary and your fab friends will not thank you for MAC's finest staining their new GAP basic white tee.

·         Tell people and talk. It genuinely helps and stops people spouting the most irritating line 'smile love, it might not happen' and it saves you from having to grit your teeth whilst mumbling through your tears that it already has.

·         Make like a diva and work those giant shades. Hey, if it works for Anna Wintour it can work for you. No one needs to see your giant bags under your eyes from all the crying and sleepless nights so keep 'em covered!

·         Despite what Bridget Jones says vodka and Chaka Khan are not a dignified answer.

·         The most important thing is to be kind to you. In time this pain will heal and in time you will laugh again. Sleep when you can, eat well and do things you enjoy.

·         Ivana Trump may have been onto something here. Gorgeous hair is the best revenge. No other revenge is ever needed, the karma bus will always come. Hopefully you will have a good seat for that particular show!

·         It’s hard to forget something that has given you so much remember, give those memories time to find a place in your heart but don’t live your life through them.

·         As Beyonce wisely sang – ‘after all the darkness and sadness still comes happiness, if I surround myself with positive things I gain prosperity.’

As we reflect on difficult times and the new challenges ahead of us it is important that we realise that we are often lucky enough to be surrounded by some of the most beautiful inspirational people in this world. It’s these people who hold us up when we fall, make us dinner when we are too upset to eat and make us strong when we feel we can’t take another step. So as I stand at my crossroads, older, wiser and in better shoes, trying to work the Sat Nav of life, I find myself taking a deep breath and humming a bit of old school Green Day – ‘It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life’.

Is it a girls world?: Under Wear?

Is it a girls world?: Under Wear?: "Ladies – this week I have been thinking about two things, honesty and shopping. Now these are 2 things I value highly, both for myself and f..."

Under Wear?

Ladies – this week I have been thinking about two things, honesty and shopping. Now these are 2 things I value highly, both for myself and from others. I really believe that they should go hand in hand together, merrily skipping down the high street of life, laughing and joking like Thelma and Louise. Yet I find it a strange concept that in our own realities they rarely get on. Honesty and shopping are, to me, the Brad and Jen of the cosmopolitan universe in that they seem such a perfect couple but for some reason it just doesn’t work. So in the name of being honest about shopping I have to let you into a little secret. You may want to sit down for this one ladies. I hate bra shopping. There. I have said it, talk about the confessions of a shopaholic! I could happily shop all day for shoes (feet never have ‘fat’ days), make up (those clever cosmetic girls make us truly believe that we just cannot have the lipstick without the lip liner for a mere £24 extra, please don’t say it’s only me who buys into that?!) and bags (a Mulberry is a true investment that will go with everything. Amen.) But bra’s, they just stress me out, so when I looked down the other day, I realised with some horror that the time was upon me once more. I needed to go bra shopping. So with a heavy heart, I decided to bite the bullet, get measured, buy a bra and cross my fingers that I survive. It was at this point I realised all my normal bra’s were in the wash so I headed off to town in AllSaints jeans and an Abercrombie vest covering up this seasons latest Agent Provocateur. Not the greatest look and for those of you who have worn Miss P will fully understand the seat belt trauma that ensued!

The thing is, if we start at the beginning and look at it objectively the whole process is a lot less than female friendly. Debenhams have recently commissioned a survey that loudly announces to the world that a massive 80% of all us women are wearing the wrong size bra and are we women really that surprised? First there is the tedious and somewhat humiliating process of being measured. For most of us being trapped in a fitting room is some kind of bizarre torture, then add into the mix having to stand there in your bra whilst a women you have never met before whips out a tape measure to find out your vitals and this is all while she shouts your bra size (in her opinion) to her colleague who, by the loudness of the holler, could possibly be on a different floor, or maybe a different shop. By now, you, the measuring women, half of the store and your next door neighbour know your bra size. Being measured appealing yet to any one? So then comes the array of bra’s in your size for you to try on and this leads me to the next issue. Do you want a semi cup, demi cup, booster cup, padding, adjustable padding? The list and choice is endless, overwhelming and often impossible. Finally peace arrives when the lady and her tape measure wander off to harass some other poor women and your left with a pile of lingerie to try on most of which doesn’t fit/ looks like something your Nan would wear/ not practical for every day wear. After what feels like hours a winner is selected to be purchased and, if you anything like me, you purchase it in every colour available to avoid the inevitable trip back to buy subsequent bra’s. A quick wizz by the tills to pay and you have succeeded! A well fitting bra is all yours for just a few soul destroying hours, a kick in the old self esteem and a large wodge of cash (when did bra’s get so expensive?).

As I grabbed some sushi for lunch in the sun I reflected on this cringe worthy experience. It feels so out dated that in the 21^st century we have not found a better, slightly more reliable way of being measured and yet really, apart from the poor customer service, I have the whole experience much easier than some. I haven’t had to have a mastectomy (as 1 in every 10 women who have a breast cancer diagnosis do), I don’t have tubular breasts (as 1 in every 700 women do) and I do not have breast asymmetry. But I have people who I am close to in my life who do. So this blog is for all you gorgeous and very brave ladies who fight your breast battle every day of your lives. Let’s hope for your brighter boob day and a better way of being measure.

xX

Is it a girls world?: The Age Debate

Is it a girls world?: The Age Debate: "A terrifying thing happened this week, something that I thought I was still years off but it was real and it happened to me. I was wondering..."

The Age Debate

A terrifying thing happened this week, something that I thought I was still years off but it was real and it happened to me. I was wondering around Topshop, looking for Hen Weekend outfit inspiration incidentally and I overheard 3 assistants chatting excitedly to each other about one of their impending birthdays. I smiled inside at their excitement and gossip as they planned what they were wearing and which boys would be there, until one said ‘I just can’t imagine being 20, it’s so old.’ I literally stopped in my tracks, my blood went cold and I’m sure 2 new wrinkles appeared around my left eye. As I looked over at these girls who were barely 16 I decided to drag my nearly 30 yr old ass outta there! I sat in the car (one advantage of being over 16, I can drive and own my own car!), my head spinning I began to think about this numbers game us ladies play. Whether it’s our age, dress size, weight, the amount of emails we have to respond to at work or our bank balance we all trap ourselves in this numbers game. It’s strange how we develop fears of these little symbols and it’s something we are all guilty of at some point.

The thing about numbers is that they impart some structure in our life. We all live in a world where we are constantly given so much choice and society expects so much from us, sometimes these numbers give us the security and control we crave. The thing is ladies, there are certain goals (numerically speaking) that we are programmed to achieve. These are the goals we set ourselves. From a young age we set goals such as by which age we will have achieved certain dreams and our twenties do feel a life time away. As adults there is the numbers goal on the scale or in our dress, the fear of not being the ideal number that we want sets up for failure and upset. Trying on birthday dresses this week I played the breath holding game whilst I poured myself into my ‘ideal number’ size dress, hoping I didn’t have to go up another dress size because I really don’t like that number. As it happens the dress fitted and I was elated but it’s the roller coaster of emotions that occur when it doesn’t. It mirrors the elation felt when the scales tip in our favour (or don’t as the case maybe!) and the log in to internet banking that dictates if its steak or beans on toast for dinner.

Whilst numbers can give us a sense of calm in a busy and stressful world I just wonder if they are also holding us back a little bit. How would life be different for us if we weren’t controlled by them? What if we got up and didn’t weigh ourselves before leaving the house? Would we have a better day, be less stressed about what we ate and just enjoyed what are plans are? What if we were just happy because the dressed looked great and made us feel amazing despite a little number on the washing label? Would we have more fun, laugh more and just dance? How many of us could just look at our emails as a chance to be great at our job, instead of feeling that growing sense of gloom when the red inbox number seems sky high? Who would dare to try?

But bigger than our weight, labels, emails and bank balances is our age. Is age a state of mind or does it define who we are and where we should be in life? As I reflect on the girls’ in Topshop’s comments I could easily count a hundred things that worry me about being 30 or 40 or 50 years old so instead I defied those pesky numbers and counted all the things these ages will bring. Maybe marriage and children, hopefully success at work and of course my lifelong goal of a walk in wardrobe. Surely our main hope as we travel through our journey should be that we continue to gain a deeper sense of self and with that an acceptance of whom we are. I know I will never be the girl with the perfect hair, or be able to wear white without spilling anything on it, but that’s okay. For me age is undoubtedly a state of mind as Coco Chanel famously said ‘A woman should be 2 things, classy and fabulous’ and there is certainly no age limit to that!

xX

Is it a girls world?: Face (less) Book......

Is it a girls world?: Face (less) Book......: "Ladies – what’s the one material thing you couldn’t live without? Your favourite pair of Abercrombie slouchy jogging bottoms? YSL Touche Ecl..."

Face (less) Book......

Ladies – what’s the one material thing you couldn’t live without? Your favourite pair of Abercrombie slouchy jogging bottoms? YSL Touche Eclat for covering your bin liner size bags? Or maybe the Jimmy Choo’s you worked so hard for? Or is it Facebook? Be honest with yourself now ladies, how many of us can’t get through the day without logging on, status updating and checking in and I should know, I’m very guilty of every charge! The problem is its quick, it’s easy and it fills those 10 minutes at the end of your working day. It seems a life time ago we even had to go to the effort of using a lap top or computer for our daily dose, now we can down load an app and why hey Facebook is on our phone as a constant tease.

Essentially Facebook can be a great thing. The rush of excitement when you find a friend from school, the giggles as people post pictures of your happy memories on line and shared jokes on status updates. There is something strangely comforting about knowing your ‘friends’ are but an app, click and ‘like’ away at any time you would like. How many of us wake up and immediately reach for our phones to peruse the Facebook news feed like it’s the daily paper? Knowing our friends are well and happy all over the world make us smile, feel closer to them and all without having to make any effort of emailing or phoning. And in that lies the problem. Facebook makes us lazy. Why bother to call or email or heaven forbid meet up with your friends when you can check their profile from the comfort of your Chesterfield sofa whilst your face mask sets? Why bother with the effort of words to express your happiness at their success when you can merely press the ‘like’ button? It seems so sad that in these technological times of greatness we are forgetting, what is now becoming, the ancient art of conversation.

 To me it seems that Facebook is a cruel mistress. Initially charming and inviting but ultimately leaving you cold, lonely and wondering how the world really works. Facebook could be renamed ‘Fakebook’.  I mean, who actually 400 friends in real life? It seems to me that Facebook quickly becomes a popularity contest to see who has the most friends, the most tagged pictures and the most ‘likes’ on their status updates. I imagine Facebook as the shop windows of people’s lives, where they put the best bits on display for us all to see and hide the rest out of sight in the stock room of their existence. But who can blame them, with all that competition, who wouldn’t want to look their best to passersby. The problem occurs when people over share and on Facebook that is easy to do. How many times have you caught people out on a lie on there, or been driven to the edge of insanity with their endless updates about how rubbish life is, or how much they have drunk or how much weight they have lost? Ask any group of women of any age and 90% will be on a diet, we are all doing it, we just don’t need to know how much you have lost, how many points you have left that day or be exposed to pictures of the skinnier you in your underwear on an hourly basis!! The other seriously negative side to Facebook is its entanglement with cyber bulling. Whilst policies are in place to stop this, tragically it’s still happening. In 2009 the first criminal charge was brought against a girl for cyber bulling, a stark reminder that if we can’t type anything nice, don’t type anything at all. When I expressed my frustration at this endless stream of drivel from some people to the boy, he kindly directed me to Lamebook (www.lamebook.com). Now I’m not one to use a blog to advertise but if you get a minute, check it out!

Chatting with the girls this week we all admitted to needing to Facebook detox, just a week or two off from the constant up dates, friend requests and the draining temptation of logging on every few hours. But what keeps us coming back to Facebook? We all know that an addiction can be viewed as a continued involvement with an activity despite the negative consequences associated with it and whilst Facebook has many of those negative consequences it often has hundreds more positive ones. Friendships have been rekindled, old memories laughed at again and at our lowest times finding that people are there for you. Maybe in future we should apply the same approach to Facebook as we do with Chanel No 5, as any style savvy girl knows, less is definitely more.