I’m Scottish so in my mind tartan is great & goes with everything. I will not be dissuaded from this thought process. Which, is exactly why I bought these boots & I will not apologise for them.
I spent Saturday with my sister & the cutest little monkey there ever was. It was a wet dreary day, so I went for cosy with splashes of random colour. As I said, tartan goes with everything so why waste time trying to actually match.
Skirt – Primark
Shirt – Simply Be
Hat – Primark
Boots – Primark
Despite the rain & hat combo turning my hair into a hedge, we had a really good day. A spot of lunch, snoop around the hidden lane and then we checked out the refurb at my local library. It has been transformed from 60’s dinge to retro cool (that staircase didn’t look so awesome when I was 14) and the kid’s section is fantastic. Our wee monkey enjoyed a bit of story time & a lot of exploring. Whilst his Mama & I secreted little messages amongst the books.
The only thing better than tartan is libraries, so I win at Saturday.
Last night I asked a women I thought was a waiter for our bill. From the confused look on her face I immediately realised she was not staff. In my embarrassment it occurred to me that my brain (& body) makes daft mistakes like this all the time. Also, ridiculous things just seem to happen to me. I have no idea why I am so bloody silly, but it certainly makes for some entertaining stories. Provided you give me a few years to recover from the humiliation that is.
For starters there was the time I was in hospital and one of junior surgeons who appeared on rounds was a guy I had dated. I didn’t recognise him right away. To be fair I was full of morphine and we’d only gone out for about 2 months 15years previously. Also, at that time he was a bus driver. Thus I didn’t expect to see him amongst my surgeons. Anyway, I was lying there, knickers exposed having my stomach felt when I thought a face in the crowd looked familiar. Skip to him returning to take blood and asking if I was ok with him being on my team. Then me slowly dying as he (re) introduced himself & it dawned on me that this man had seen me naked. Worse still that everyone clearly thought I was the kind of woman who slept with hot drs and then promptly forgot them. I mean, obviously I am precisely such as hussy, but I could have done without a barrow load of medical professionals being privy to that information.
Next was the time I turned up at work wearing odd shoes. They were the same shoe, but in different colours. I had done my standard fling clothes on & rush out the door morning routine. It was a dark winter morning & I didn’t notice I had on one red & one pale nude ballet pump. I didn’t notice all day long either. It wasn’t until I was on the bus home that my mismatching foot wear became apparent. What’s worse is when I asked my colleagues the next day how no one had noticed, it turned out they all had. They just assumed it was fashion choice I had purposely made & left me to it. Which probably sums up how I was viewed in that office fairly well.
There was the time I went on a date with a work mate without realising it was a date, which I suppose could happen to anyone. However, I suspect most folk wouldn’t have gone on the second date still oblivious that they were dating. Or the time I emitted the loudest, foulest fart seconds after concluding some of the hottest sex I’d ever had. Completely ruining my reputation as a sex kitten. I fell asleep during a lecture once and slept talked so loudly the professor thought I was asking a question. Oh & that time I burnt cookies in the Haagen Dazs kitchen, set off the fire alarm and caused an entire 12 screen to be evacuated.
Finally, my crowning glory of embarrassing moments. I was Christmas shopping in a fancy department store (if you’re local, it was Frasers). This place is an old building with a grand staircase which leads down into a beauty hall. They go all out at Xmas. Twinkly lights & decorations galore. This particular year they had a lush potted poinsettia at either side of each step. Step forward a sweaty & harassed me, carrying a million bags. I fainted at the top and rolled down the entire staircase. As I tumbled I knocked over every poinsettia one side, shedding items from bags & red petals as I went. I landed in a soil covered, tight laddering heap in front of the Chanel counter. My knees were grazed, but my pride took the real battering. The lovely staff wanted to fetch me a seat and maybe call an ambulance. I was so mortified that even if i’d broken both legs I’d have been out of there in flash.
There are of course a million other occasions of misspeaking & farting & generally falling around. Laughing uproariously at myself is definitely the only way to go. So, I offer these stories for your enjoyment. If i’m going to me be a clumsy mess I might as well entertain folk.
I like the colder seasons. Autumn is my favourite and I’m into a bit of winter too (until I’m stuck outside in the freezing rain). I get cold really easily, but I do love the opportunity to do a bit of layering to stay cosy.
Wrapping up warm doesn’t mean you have to have ditch flare. Every layer is a chance to add interest. I look at it as creating multiple outfits in one. Case in point this Fashion World ensemble*.
I’ve been dying to get my hands on some red leopard print. I’m not usually one for following trends, but this season’s big hit is so up my street. This plisse skirt is just so cool. The blunt hem & wide waist band make it strides ahead of your standard maxi skirt. Worn with a super fitted denim shirt it’s the perfect trundling though burnished leaves get up. Unbutton that shirt (or whip it off altogether), the rubberesque body suit is fully revealed and the ante has been upped considerably. This baby is very ready to hit the town.
Skirt – Fashion World
Body Suit – Simply Be Edited by Amber (via Fashion World)
Shirt – Fashion World
Both the body & maxi are perfectly sized. You’re going to want to size up on the shirt, though. Also, please note, the denim & body suit is a toasty combination.
Of course I had to get the autumn/winter palette on my fingers too. This week’s nails are a coppery dream
*Items were gifted, but all opinions remain my own.
Are you respectful? Do you try not to hurt other people’s feelings? How often do you reassure friends that they have done a great job, tell them not to be so hard on themselves? Almost everyone manages these things & more. Most of us know how treat others kindly. We’re all delighted to be our loved one’s cheer leaders. So why do we find it so hard to be in our own corners?
For a long time I thought my negative self talk was a rare thing. I was battling severe mental illness & I assumed the cruel way I addressed myself was justified. I didn’t really speak about that abusive voice in my head outside of therapy. I did CBT, compassionate mind training, EMDR and a variety of other therapy techniques. Regardless, I still talk to myself in a manner that I would not dream of confronting others. Yes, this is part of my mental health problems, but I’m realising it’s also really common.
I am not alone in berating myself. In fact, I think to some degree or another, we all do it. My problem is keeping it under control. I can spiral from ‘that was daft’ to ‘I’m utterly useless in a flash’. I am aware that haranguing myself in this way is damaging. I know it plays into other aspects of my poor mental health; it lowers my self esteem, leads to second guessing & most dangerously makes me feel like I should punish my incompetence.
Lately, I have noticed a lot of public discussion on this topic. It has become clear that women in particular fall prey to negative self talk. We undermine ourselves. We judge ourselves not good enough. I’m wondering why.
Is it a side effect of our culture? There’s a constant onslaught of just keep grinding messages. Everyone has a side gig. Many women are trying to juggle careers & motherhood. We’re all trying to fulfil multiple roles. All the while being bombarded by media images of perfection. Is this why we fall short in our own estimations?
I’m not superwoman. None of us are. I have learned to cope with lots of aspects of mental & physical illness. This one I cannot seem to conquer. My first thought in the face of almost every problem is ‘this is my fault’. Although not in such polite terms. I can take a part the situation logically and prove that I am not always to blame. Intellectually I can believe that I’m not the cause of every misfortune, but I can’t feel it.
As I’ve said I have received significant psychological intervention. I know all theory behind the skills that are supposed to combat these thoughts. Somehow, I remain immune to the entirety of it. So, I ask you, what do you when that horrid internal voice pipes up? I’m really asking & I am absolutely open to suggestions.
Every once in a while I find that dream garment that makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. I bloody love that feeling. I’m even more enamoured with it when the item in question is a surprise win, which is absolutely the case with this beauty.
I was perusing the boohoo sale section when I spotted this slinky number & slung it in my basket. I didn’t hold out much hope for it, the fabric looked like it might cling & had the potential to be too much on the shiny side. However, I have been after a button up dress and at £6 it’s always worth the chance. I’m so delighted I clicked buy.
Dress – Boohoo
Tights – Asos Curve
Flats – Primark
I am besotted with dress. Everything about it is perfect. Awesome wintery green & deliciously soft fabric. The split is just high enough to be sexy without making it tricky not to flash. I’d say size up if you have substantial boobs, but otherwise fits well. It’s such a simple piece, but I felt super hot it in. All hail my new bargain bin sex kitten ensemble.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Extra illness, extra stress & very little sleep have taken a toll. My mood has taken a nose dive. I’m battling a fairly substantial wave of anxiety & the urge to just hole up at home.
I am fighting, though. One of the things keeping me going is how far I’ve come. These lows will probably always hit, but it helps to know things are not as bad as they once were. On days like this reading my own dark words shine a tiny light through today’s depressive fog.
I’m hoping some sleep & resolving some of the stress inducers will alleviate this bout of blue. In the mean time I’ll be digging deep in my chest of resources to keep myself focused on the light.
Rest assured this boy is always looking after me.
Nothing cheers up a dreary Monday than running off to a peaceful country hotel. A couple of days immersed in gorgeous grounds, yummy food & a relaxing spa definitely puts a positive spin on your week.
Houstoun House is set an historic building with great services. Set in pretty countryside with some lovely formal gardens it is a great spot for a soothing escape. After dealing with another kidney infection & heavy bought of insomnia I was eager for small break. My super mummy sister was equally in need of a rest. Our tiny companion is pretty happy exploring any new place, but he was particularly delighted with Houstoun House.
A delicious three course meal followed by a good old carry on with the baba got us off to a good start. A huge comfy bed & top notch breakfast eased us into the next day. Then it was time for deep tissue massages & lots of splashing around in the pool with the boy.
What else to wear when being a luxury bitch, but velvet? Oh & some leopard print too.
Dress – Bonmarche
Tights – Asos Curve
Belt – Asos Curve
Pumps – Primark
Glasses – Where.light