Put your boots on…

This month in continued attempts to stop buying clothes I don’t need, I have been attempting to mine gems from the darkest reaches of my wardrobe.

I have about a million dresses and some just don’t get a look in. Example A would be this dress. It the softest, cosiest easy wear and I do not know why I neglect it. It is brutally cold here, so additional layering is essential. This wee shrug/jumper thing is ideal. Also super soft and cosy. It was a Xmas gift and I love it. I can throw it on with anything for extra warm.

Dress – Monsoon Jumper – Gift Boots – Air Cloudies

The next dress really did come from the deepest depths. I’ve had this one for close to 20yrs. It’s is a magical wrap dress that somehow fits me whatever size I am. I love the vintagey print. The only annoying thing is the tie loosens and it gets a bit heavy on the cleavage. Easily solved by popping a vest on next time.

Dress – Very old H&M. Jumper – Gift

Finally we have yesterday’s outfit. We took Dad out for an early birthday lunch. I wanted to step it up a little, but still look day time. I dug around in my drawers and found this amazing sheer t shirt. The colour is so vibrant, it was just what this jumpsuit needed to causal it down a little bit. I also broke out my jazziest glasses. I adore these specs. They are actually really heavy, so not great for wearing everyday. I do love giving them an outing.

Jumpsuit – Curve Soul* T-Shirt – Taking Shape* Glasses – Where Light

Bronan remains unfussed by my sartorial efforts. As long as I continue to pander to his every whim, he is happy.

* Gifted, but opinions remain honest.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Something to talk about…

Time to talk day has just be crept across my timeline. I’m hoping it’s a testament to how attitudes have changed towards what is needed in the mental health sphere that I’m only being alerted to it at 9.30pm. Despite my cynicism I clicked and perused the website.

Sadly, it’s the same old story. Like most other mainstream advocacy for mental illness, Time to talk fails in tackling the real barriers people with mental illness face. Of course it is important to dispel stigma around mental health problems. It is also great to encourage people to support friends, colleagues etc. The tips on how to approach such conversations are fairly helpful. My issue with this model is that I don’t believe it acknowledges the depth & breath of the problem. In fact, I would go further in saying that the offering a listening ear platitudes can even diminish the experience of many with mental illness.

I’m 43yrs old and I have managed various levels of mental Illness almost entire and life. In all of that time the NHS has been under resourced in the mental health sector. As the years have gone by funding has been slashed and the problem has grown. We have been at crisis status for a very long time. There has been an uptake in mental health awareness. Campaign after campaign successfully identified warning signs and urged us to seek help. Unfortunately, the help requested is most often not forthcoming.

At the moment just getting a Gp appointment can be an enormous struggle. From there referral to primary mental health services always results in landing in a very long waiting list. If you can survive that wait, the treatment available can be limited. The first line is usually a limited course of CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). CBT can of course be effective for some issues. It is not an answer for more complex mental illness. Alongside CBT there are a variety of helplines and websites, which can offer valuable information, but do not constitute treatment. There are of course psychiatric medications. These can be life saving and do improve the lives of millions. However, they are not magic, most often they must be used in conjunction with other therapies.

A referral beyond the intial interventions already mentioned is difficult to obtain. Infuriatingly, not everyone merits a place on their waiting lists. Those who do make it are in for another privilege wait. The quality, duration & efficacy of what is available at the end of that line is unknown. There are excellent professionals, treatments & resources, but they are stretched beyond thin. There simply aren’t beds, funding or staffing to provide the appropriate treatment & support for everyone who needs it. The result is, most people are shirt changed. Problems that could be caught early are allowed to progress. Serious problems become emergencies. In short, our population suffers more mental illness and become trapped in illness for longer. Some, forever.

Beyond the personal tragedy, the social and economic toll this takes is clear. People become unable to work, care for their families, participate in their communities, they then are laden with whole new set of problems. This of course negatively impacts their mental health and round they go. More people end up in crisis with no where to turn but emergency services, which are not equipped to render proper treatment. Again worsening the situation of the individual and eroding resources available overall. Apply this cycle across the board and it becomes obvious how vicious it is. It is an enormous widespread problem that can not be solved without massive funding, recruitment and a re evaluation of government policy.

Atop those failings is the fundamental shortcomings of the message itself. Breaking down stigma is vital. However, I think the focus of these campaigns, asking how people are feeling, actually is listening to the answer and so on, don’t go nearly far enough. It gives the impression that all mental illness can be easily solved. The adverts and literature are always about depression or anxiety. They show the palatable side of these conditions; someone who has a difficult period and with a little help from their friends gets better. Images of people crying or holding their head in their hands distort the reality of living with such conditions. When someone can’t get out of bed or in the shower for days on end, when they can’t function or find relief despite those caring chats it’s a shock. A check in with the Gp & some anti depressants won’t cure everything. Mental illness encompasses a myriad of conditions. Symptoms can be extraordinarily distressing and debilitating. Some are enduring illnesses that require complex and specialised treatment. Conditions like schizophrenia, Ptsd or Bpd are rarely discussed. Instead they’re sensationalised & misrepresented in the media. Perpetuating dangerous ideas about those living with certain conditions. The fear and shame have not been dispelled. We’ve merely carved out a tiny category of ‘acceptable’ mental illness.

The recovery narrative presented in mainstream mental health advocacy is too simple. Not everyone gets better. Lots of people instead learn to manage their mental illness. Others have recurring episodes. They are still smart, loving, valuable human beings. When all society is presented with is neat stories of struggle, seek help, return to health forever expectations are unrealistic . Those who don’t follow that template become doubted. Compassion turns to thinking they’re not trying hard enough or maybe they’re exaggerating. Stigma persists. We need an informed public. Not only on the broader experience of mental illness, but on ways to bring about change. People should know why our services are failing. The power of our voices and votes must be understood. We also need education around navigating the systems that exist. Everyone should be aware of how best to advocate for themselves and loved ones. We do need to talk, it’s just a much bigger conversation.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Humanitarian Crisis

January’s charity contribution was sadly a very obvious choice. The assault on the Palestinian people has continued despite even the intervention of the ICJ. The resulting humanitarian crisis is overwhelming.

Health care & residential infrastructure have been decimated. Most of the population are starving. Malnourished mothers are giving birth to babies who can survive only a few days. The scale of suffering is hard to comprehend. If you can please consider donating to one of these amazing organisations.

Unicef provide essential aid to combat disease, malnutrition & injury. They are focused on caring for the millions of children impacted in Gaza.

Medical Aid Palestine works for the health & dignity of Palestinians living under occupation. They desperately need help in providing urgent medical care and developing local capacity to ensure long term medical services.

Hakini is working to set up an emergency hotline for people in psychological distress. They provide specialised training for volunteers to support civilians & aid workers.

Stormy weather…

I’ve never feared storms. On the contrary, I mostly find them comforting. Thunder, gales, torrential downpour all increase my sense of safety as long as I experience their strength from behind four walls. Nothing feels quite as cosy as listening to wild weather batter around one’s secure domicile. The sounds are soothing. The gratitude of having a comfortable place to take shelter brings a warm contentment. Similarly, I enjoy rough seas. I’ve always preferred a desolate winter beach to one that is sundrenched. I find a listing vessel thrilling. I hope for a crossing choppy enough to produce that I don’t know where my foot will land when I take a step sensation. Crashing waves, howling winds, angry skies; tick, tick, tick.

There is only one niggle. If Mother Nature is unsettled in conjunction with my mind things can get rocky. Only a very particular mood presents a problem. Clear cut emotions pose no threat. If I’m sad the rain feels appropriate. Angry and my dirt is matched.However, if a storm hits when my mind is in conflict with itself, batten down the hatches. Sometimes what I want to feel clashes up against what I actually do feel. Other times I can’t decipher exactly what I think or feel. Then there are the overlapping, opposing emotions running around up there. All of which are heightened by a natural uproar. Somehow nature’s dramatics heighten my confusion. I can’t straighten out my insides & the untamed outdoors gives the mess a false significance. Querulous suppositions that might otherwise pass are given weight. Being aware of this does nothing to lessen the frustration. One can’t logic their way out of a metaphorical brick in the stomach. 

Thus tonight I am in flux. Craziness swirls beyond my bedroom window & behind my eyes. I can’t unpick the tangle. Perhaps I’ll know what I feel tomorrow

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

You can read me anything…

In keeping with my ‘24 in, today is a little run down of words I’ve been consuming lately. If you’re looking for some literary fiction to dive into, read on.

Before My Actual Heart Breaks by Tish Delaney is an extraordinary book. It follows the life of Mary growing up amidst the troubles in Northern Ireland. A girl seeking a life diametrically opposed to one she is living. Delaney deftly evokes time & place that doesn’t really exist anymore. I marvelled at strikingly different experience of woman not much older than myself. A person existing in my lifetime, but living an entirely alien life. Aptly titled as I broke my heart crying at several points. It so beautifully how badly we can misunderstand the people we should know best.

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng has had people raving forever. The hype increased when they did a big name adaptation and I finally got around to reading it. I’m pleased it made it to the top of my read pile. I loved the layering in the story, how the themes unravelled slowly. Privilege, secrets, motherhood are all so cleverly intertwined. The setting & it’s history perfectly captured elements of life in America.

Lastly a re read, After You’d Gone by Maggie O’Farrell. One of my very favourite books. I must have read a dozen times and I devour it every time. It’s both the classic love story and the unexpected. Complete with big romantic gestures, star crossed moments, but still packs surprises. I have recommended this novel to many people and every single one has fallen head over feels for it. Give yourself a treat, read this book.

Bronan has very little interest in what I’m reading. In fact he’s much rather I stopped with the books and gave him all of my attention.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Watching the clothes…

Would you like to see some things I have been wearing lately? Excellent because that’s exactly what this blog is about. It’s all everyday fashion. I spend a lot of time with little people and in Dr’s waiting rooms; so comfort is paramount.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to look cool. The keys to my winter 23/24 looks are layering & my Air Cloudies. I didn’t really want these boots, but they might be the best thing I have ever bought. Waterproof, fleece lined and cushioned soles. They are actually like walking on clouds. Also, you can fling them in the washing machine. Spoonie friends, you need these.

Dress – Primark T-Shirt – Delicious Monster Tea Cardigan – Curve Soul*

On the layering front, I like wearing my summer dresses with extras. Stick some tights on, tie up a t shirt & top with a cardi. Your ready to face the Scottish winter.

This t shirt was a Xmas gift from my sister. I felt a bit teary when I opened it because it highlights how well she knows me. If you don’t want Joni Mitchell lyrics on your chest, fear not they are custom.

T- Shirt – Delicious Monster Tea

I love little floppy mini skirts, but since I cannot gracefully sit or bend, they would definitely result in a lot of flashing. Hence, this skort is one of my fav pieces. All the cuteness of a wee a skirt, with shorts built in to save my blushes. Tights & fluffy cardi make this winter proof. When it comes to tights, it’s always snags. They fit, they don’t fall down & I don’t ladder them on the first wear.

Skort – Simply Be T-Shirt – Curated By Girls Cardigan – ASOS Curve Tights – Snag

I’m 100% an outfit repeater. I don’t really understand the point of not being. I buy clothes that I love and feel good in. Why wouldn’t I want to repeat that experience? Most weeks involve repeats. This one was no different. I swapped my cardigan for a jumper and was good to go again.

Jumper – Curve Soul* Boots – Air Cloudies

Finally, I have today’s look. I fell in love with this jumpsuit the minute I saw it. I adore the zip and contrast stitching. I bought two sizes and even the bigger feels a tiny bit short in the body. Definitely one to size up on. If you have a longer torso, it might not be a winner.

Jumpsuit – Simply Be Tote Bag – Banksy Exhibit

I slipped on another Xmas gift today. This one is from my bestie & sums me pretty well!

Badge – 2 Little Boys

* Gifted. Use Kerr25 for 25% off at Curve Soul.

Saltburn

I finally got a chance to see the film everyone is freaking out over. It would be remiss of me not to add my thoughts on the matter. Of course everyone is always just dying to know what I think.

I liked it. I enjoyed the weirdness. The attempt at class commentary was interesting, if shy of the target. I thought the cast turned in excellent performances. It is certainly worth a watch.

Now let’s get contrary. I’m at odds with most of the big talking points. Perhaps I’ve misinterpreted, but here are my thoughts.

The Bath Scene

I’m not even sure what I expected, from the furore, much more than I got. The way people have been talking, I anticipated a moral outrage. In actuality, it’s just pretty gross. Obviously there was the ‘oh my god, someone’s going to catch him’ cringe. It was the tongue near the plug hole that made me feel boaky. The rest wasn’t my idea of sexy, but hey, who hasn’t had some sort of a salty experience?

While we’re on the going nuts about sex topic; period sex is not a big deal.

Class War

I’ve seen a few takes on this. It was an attack on the upper classes, or the middle classes or social mobility in general. After a little thought I think perhaps it was meant as a critique of the privilege & absurdity of the landed gentry. Unfortunately it missed the mark because it was written by one of the ranks. The treatment of the scholarship students is suitably vile. As is the vying & back stabbing between the Saltburn residents. However when you compare the characters of Felix & Oliver you are directed to have less empathy for the plucky everyman. Instead you’re given the impression that perhaps Felix & Co are correct to guard against interlopers. Intentional or not, the last scene gives at last I’m one of them more than eat the rich.

The Confusion

I am constantly finding commentary on how confusing the film is. I even saw a review that described feeling as though they had fallen asleep and missed vital action. I do not comprehend what people didn’t comprehend. It gets really weird, but it remains clear.

Murder in the Dancefloor

Great song. Great body. Great ending. Why is everyone flipping out? Judging by tik tok discourse I thought I was in for Mark Wahlberg in Boogie Nights moment. Call me crass, all I saw was a standard big dick. Am I crazy, what is everyone losing their minds over?

In summation if you haven’t seen it, do. Don’t expect any earth shattering meaning. Just enjoy the freaky thriller.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon .

Ins & Outs…

I haven’t made New Year’s resolutions since I was a child. At first glance I thought the In & Out trend was just a rebranding. However, on further investigation I have decided that I like this less momentous approach. Instead of massive declarations, we’re just reassessing what everyday things serve us well. Less changing who you are & more smoothing life’s aggravating edges. I’m willing to give it a go.

In

Swimming

More of it. I love swimming. I feel less pain in the water. I can whizz up and down in a manner I haven’t done on land in years. I enjoy it. I don’t know why I so frequently let life get in the way, no more. I’m carving out time every week to indulge in a dip.

Do it for fun.

I am pretty useless at crafty things. I do however enjoy the process. I like pottery and painting and making my own flowery bits. I’m often put off by the fact that the finished product is not grade A. Bugger that, why relinquish pleasure because I’m not good at it? No one is good at everything. Just for the fun it is good enough reason.

Currently reading

I like seeing what others are reading & enjoying. I’m often asked which books are on my shelves. Unfortunately I forget to share as I’m reading. Then when I remember, I have dozens of books I haven’t talked about. This year I will endeavour to share my books as I devour them.

Have a little faith

In my own talent. I know I can write. People pay for my words, lots of folk read this blog, my work has been praised and published for years. I know I can write. Yet, the imposter syndrome is real. Doubt is always creeping in, I drag my feet on some opportunities because I’m not convinced I’m good enough. It has to stop. I’m 43yrs old, I can do this.

Out

Matching Socks

I have various singleton socks. Perfectly nice, soft & cosy socks. Bugger it, I’m pairing up the odd ones and wearing them. No one with any sense cares a jot.

Guilt

I have a long established guilt issue. I can & will feel guilty about almost anything. Given that I have plenty of real things to feel horribly guilty about, I am going to try my hardest to let the insignificant things slide. There are only so many hours in the day, it does no one any good for me to spend most of them worrying about what is my fault.

Explaining

It’s exhausting and most the time it’s no one’s business. I’m no longer explaining why I need to know if there are seats or stairs. Folk can just answer the question. I ask politely, it’s straightforward information, just say yes or no. Randoms don’t need to know what pill I’m taking, why I’m vegan, why I fainted or any number of other things. Curiosity killed the cat and constant explaining knackered his Mother.

Making exceptions

This is the big one. There are one or two people in my life from whom I accept less. I love them, I know them inside out & I want them in my life. As a result I tolerate certain things from them that I wouldn’t from anyone else. Mostly this is absolutely fine. I’m not talking about horrid or cruel behaviour. Just the odd less than ideal lapse. Here’s the rub, sometimes those lapses hurt. I’ve decided it’s time I shift things away from swallowing that hurt. Everyone deserves to their have effort & care reciprocated. I must stop making exceptions. When annoying becomes hurtful, it is time to speak up.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

A good man these days…

We once again find ourselves in this strange liminal time between one big day & the next. A time I spend mostly in my jammies eating whatever does not require cooking. All the while feeling somewhat discombobulated. Since I am struggling to keep track of the days or my own thoughts, I’m going to leap into a little flight of fancy.

For no apparent reason I am finishing the year with an ode to Ian Hislop. I love the man. He does occasionally rankle me with his SNP mockery, but I simply can’t help adoring him anyway.

His editorship at Private Eye makes the magazine one of life’s essentials. A fortnightly dose of punctured hypocrisy is needed more than ever. Whilst Have I got Got News for You brings weekly shot of joy.

I am drawn to his wit. I find his brand of comical judgement irresistible. A man who knows his classics & can still laugh at himself bowls me over. As does a sense of genuine decency. Mr Hislop possesses all of the above.

His cute face turning stern as he crushes a corrupt politician sets my heart a flutter. My attraction only grows as he grows older and more crumply. In 30 years of fandom I have yet to discover any truly unpleasant views. He is a shining of example of the rare ‘nice man’.

His enduring marriage both confirms my belief in his eligibility and damns my hopes of ever catching his twinkly eye. I am a sucker for a man who can maintain a happy long term relationship. It is certainly not conducive to capturing objects of my affection since their interest in me would immediately destroy the family man qualities that attracted me. Alas, I cannot help but admire a loyal husband.

Embarrassing a Tory Mp on national television will always win you my affection. So too will being a cat person evidenced by the appearance of Colin during lockdown. Hankering for men who embrace their oddities has always been my thing. Thus I cannot help be enamoured with Ian’s proud ownership of interests that others seek to mock.

Though he will never be mine, I shall forever yearn for the esteemed satirist. A slightly unusual intellectual with basic human goodness lights my fire. You can keep your hunks & rocks stars. I want the little guy with integrity and an uncanny ability to give powerful people a tongue lashing.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Blue Christmas…

I love Christmas. The focus on giving and spending time with loved ones is special. I like the way it makes strangers wish each other merry. It warms my heart to see little ones really believing in the magic of Santa Claus. Tis the season, right?

Well, yes and also a little bit no. The last few weeks have been a whirl of wrapping gifts, singing carols with excited little people, twinkly lights & festive fun. I have adored every minute of it. However, now that all the presents are delivered and prep is completed I feel a tad blue. This always happens. I needed a rest day before the main event, but as soon as I slow down it hits.

My siblings and friends are having cosy days at home with their families. My Christmas nest is empty. I can’t help but think of what could have been. All traditions I wanted to pass on; opening just one present on Xmas eve, fuzzy red stockings with their names in gold, snuggling with Santa hyped darlings as we read a new festive bed time story. Then the frantic readying of gifts whilst my babies sleep. Santa presents wouldn’t be wrapped in my house; just lain out beautifully in the living room. Ready to be enjoyed the second they wake. There wouldn’t be any Christmas morning rules. Rising before dawn, chocolate for breakfast, all out Christmas chaos would be just fine. There’s an unsung seasonal opera in my head.

I know I’m very lucky. Tomorrow I will be with family. Exchanging gifts and clinking glasses. I’ll watch my nephew tear open his gifts and be loaded with big loving squeezes. I’m safe, warm & loved. That is a lot to be grateful for. There’s still hint of sorrow for the dreams that didn’t come to pass.

I know I’m not alone in being touched by sadness at this time of year. If you’re struggling this year, I’m sending love. If joy is out reach I hope you can find some peace.