The crisp chilly peak autumn weather hasn’t lasted long this year. We’re only half way through October and it’s already freezing rain most days. What’s a girl to do on dreary dark night? Spooky nails of course!
It’s not Halloween without a cobweb or two. Add some sparkle & it’s creepy chic.
Black cats are supposed to be bad luck, but I felt blessed with these cheeky darlings on my finger tips.
As a 90’s bitch I can never resist paying homage to my favourite scary movie. Blood & ghost face are a striking look.
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‘I wish I had the guts to wear that’ is a phrase I’ve been hearing in one form or another since I started picking my own clothes. It’s not a sentiment I’ve ever properly understood. Putting on the clothes I like has never struck me as a particularly brave act.
To begin with I felt a bit sorry for people who said it. They would admire whatever item I was wearing before enviously making the proclamation. I pitied that they didn’t know they could wear whatever they liked. There was very little at risk. I’ve been called weird for as long as I can remember, but with very little negative impact. There really isn’t much people can do if you own the label the give you. You say I’m weird, I say I’m proud of it. There’s nowhere for that conversation to go. It’s hard to mock someone who isn’t ashamed of the thing you find laughable. I felt sorry for people who didn’t know that. Who worried too much about what other people thought to spread their wings & give it a try.
I got older, experienced more of life & understood their fear a little more. I never felt the need to conform in my life decisions or even my sartorial tastes. I did however learn the weight of societal judgement. Getting fatter proved just how much the world wanted us all to live up to it’s expectations. I spent too many miserable years feeling the need to hide my too large body. I added scars to the mix & the pressure to keep it all under wraps increased. I finally got what all those people meant when they said they lacked the courage to wear an eccentric outfit. They were just trying to fit in, trying to be good enough. They were simply straight jacketed by a different societal standard. That’s when those comments started to make me mad.
I wasn’t angry at the person saying it (well sometimes I was, occasionally it’s just a bitchy back handed compliment.). No, I was pissed off at all the ridiculous standards we place on each other. Moreso, I was angry at myself for falling for it. You see, I had been right. My original theory of pleasing myself & laughing in the face of judgement was spot on. Having since applied that approach to the areas of my life (& body) that I was taught to dislike, I realise it works. Just as I didn’t have to be ashamed of being the only vegetarian in class or the only kid who wanted to wear tartan tights, I also don’t have to feel bad about my flabby bits. I can wear what I find beautiful & be who makes me happy. Those who seek to bully me still have little impact because I don’t think their idea of beauty is more valid than mine.
This realisation bought my freedom back. With it, an even greater desire to break the stupid limits society places on us. Fitting in is not they key to happiness. Being authentically you, is. I have never lacked friends or adventures. You will always find your people if you hold tight & refuse to compromise the important parts of yourself. Some people will try to attack your willingness to be different. As I already said, it’s really difficult to tear you down when you stand on rock solid ground.
All of which has brought me full circle. I don’t understand why so many people squeeze themselves into boxes that don’t fit. I’m angry that we continue to be taught to conform. I’m desperate to create & consume anything that crushes the idea of rigid norms. And, yes, I still feel sorry for anyone I hear doubting they are brave enough to wear really big glasses or a crop top or head to toe sequins because it really doesn’t require bravery. Nothing very bad will happen if you wear the thing you love. The worst you can expect is a double take from a stranger or an online idiot leaving a comment. Trust me, the joy of having the stunning thing on your body is very much worth it.
So, next time you catch yourself thinking I love it, but I can’t pull it off. Stop. You can. You’ll look amazing. You’ll feel fantastic. You will learn to laugh at fools who try to deride you. Life is too short & the world is too full to limit yourself. Screw the trends. Forget what’s cool. Fuck flattering. Wear what you love & be who you are. You’ll thank me when you feel free.
They say you should never meet your heroes, but increasingly it seems like you probably shouldn’t even read the interviews they give. If Jessica Fletcher isn’t giving sexual harassment the ok, then Stephen fry is telling abuse victims to get over it. I’m running out of favourites. Then there’s the ultimate let down king, Morrissey. That racist old bastard just will not keep his mouth shut.
Let’s face it, it would probably have been better if he’d just had the grace to die young. Then at least we could still enjoy the old tunes. I’m gutted that Morrissey has ended up an ignorant, xenophobic knobber. I have long adored his music & of course his veganism. Now he’s just an embarrassment to the cause & a generally revolting person. What’s worse is what his latest outburst is part of. Namely a pervasive anti immigrant sentiment that has grown in strength since the brexit referendum. An atmosphere of hostility that has emboldened racists throughout the uk. Who can be surprised when our actual government is engaged in it’s own vile immigrant purge.
The Windrush scandal has been increasing my nausea this week. If you’re not familiar with the details, the jist is that our government is deporting people who have lived in the UK for most of their lives ( in many cases over 50yrs) despite the fact that they have a legal right to continue here. The Windrush generation came to the UK in the aftermath of WW2 to fill labour shortages & help rebuild the country. Anyone who arrived before 1973 from a commonwealth country was granted indefinite leave to remain. These are people who have lived in the UK longer than they resided in their countries of birth. They have built lives & families here. Paid taxes & contributed to society. Disregarding all of this our government is demanding they provide extensive & often impossible to find evidence of their arrival date, plus continued residence in the uk. A task made even more difficult by the home office destroying landing cards even though they were warned by staff that it may be the only recorded evidence of some people’s arrival date.
It is despicable that the conservative government’s anti immigration agenda has caused the deportation (or threat of it ) to people who have a right to live in the place they call home. It is unconscionable that elderly people should be separated from their families & sent to countries they no longer know. If you are as disgusted as I am please sign this petition calling for the government to stop all deportations, change the burden of proof & establish an amnesty for anyone who was a minor at time of entry.
The Windrush generation were invited to UK because we needed their help to rebuild our country. Similarly many immigrants today hold positions that keep the UK running. We cannot do without them. Immigrants are not a burden, they contribute far more to our economy than they take. Beyond that they have given the UK a rich multi cultural society that we should cherish. I recently overheard someone say that an immigrant is just a person who used to be somewhere else. When put like that you cannot help but see how ridiculous all this hate is.
** this amazing tote is currently sold out, but you can order here.
Yesterday I spent the afternoon with my lovely friend Hayley who was visiting Scotland for a few days. I wanted to look good,which led to some serious wardrobe scouring. Buried at the back I found this dress. It’s quite old, but I’ve always rated it. However it was a very tight squeeze the last time i tried to wear it, hence it’s languishing behind the coats. My recent shrinkage meant that it now fits rather well & so, i donned it.
Leopard print in this shade of green is a dream for me. I love the button details & the sheer fabric. In winter I tend to teem it with a black vest & leggings, but as you can see from the picture this still allows a nice silhoutte. I paired my feminine floaty dress with the tough dm type boots for practical reasons & also because i like the contrast. I added the yellow batwing cardi for a pop of colour.
I don’t wear a lot of jewellery, but I do like a ring with a big stone. I have quite the collection of what I refer to as faux enagagement rings. This is one of my favourites. The stone is a gorgeous unusual amber. If someone offered me it whilst down on one knee, I’d probably day yes!