Posts Tagged ‘Fashion’

je-2In a shocking turn of events, I have not written any more of my novel since last week. My idea now seems very slight and unimportant in light of world events. Instead, we have moved back into our house after the renovation, and I have spent most of my time dealing with an existential crisis that has taken root in the rich compost of all the stuff in our house.

I need to cull our belongings. This is a truth universally known. But I am also a sentimentalist at heart. I know how you’re meant to get rid of things: ask do I wear them/use them/need them? Could someone else benefit from them? One or two yeses and out they go. Well, that’s all fine in theory. But in reality? There are more questions than that.

Here are but two of the quandaries I have been wrestling with. Multiply this by a few hundred and you have an idea of why I am not achieving a lot.  (more…)

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sadcatA few days ago May Blossom and I were listening to Buddy Holly (because the main perk of parenthood of toddlers and younger is controlling the music they can choose from). ‘Why is it raining in that man’s heart, Mummy?’ she asked me. ‘Why isn’t the sun there?’

‘It means he’s sad,’ I told her. ‘It’s a metaphor. Why do you think he’s sad?’ (more…)

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It turned out that the sparkly dress I bought online and wore to the wedding yesterday was just a dress with glitter glued to it. Not glued to it very well, either. (more…)

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Must dust cat.

To our dear friends whose hen’s and buck’s nights we failed to attend last night, the following conversation is what we were doing instead. Probably for the best we didn’t come, eh? (more…)

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Approximately how many candles I will need for my birthday cake this year.

It’s my birthday soon. I’ll be older than ever before. There are lots of signs of this, beyond the creeping crow’s feet beside my eyes.

Sign 1. On the weekend H bought me a copy of InStyle magazine (don’t even get me started on that title. Whither the space bar, InStyle?). There was a coat featured that I can’t stop thinking about. It was designed by Max Mara, and it is basically a giant checked picnic blanket held on with buckles. It even has fringe. It is a ridiculous piece of clothing, but what made me snort with derision (young people roll their eyes, old people snort) was the editorial comment that the ‘scarf coat’ was a ‘great choice for a woman who might need an easier, less body-conscious fit’. The coat made the skinny young model look a bit hefty; a ‘woman who might need an easier, less body-conscious fit’ (magazine-talk for fat) would look like someone was hastily trying to hide a stolen refrigerator. All this is a long way of telling you that I now get pissed off at fashion magazines, like a grumpy old lady. (more…)

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This rainy week, I have liked: (more…)

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This past week I have liked: (more…)

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