Biting the Bullet.

Excuse the pun but I have finally bitten the bullet and set up another blog! Those who know me well, know that I love fashion.
Criticised in my early twenties for it (by family of course, who else?) it lost it’s significance and was put on the back burner. Then, after my dramatic weight loss in 2007, it happily returned to my life and I embraced it, confidently showcasing a style I had hidden for so long. Sadly, due to the weight gain of recent years, my love of looking good has long gone.
I want it back.
I want to feel confident again and look at myself without hate.
I want the BDD to fade away.
I should not have to justify my love of fashion.
If I could choose any style I would probably pick tailored androgyny. I’m pretty sure anyone who knows me wouldn’t have expected that! Other than David, my husband, he knows my love for fitted and tailored co-ordinates. If I could be a stylist, hands down, I’d style men. I also loving monochrome. Black and white looking sharp and crisp. Perhaps with a flash of metallics peeking through. Heels are a must for this look, it shouldn’t be manly. Lipstick wouldn’t go amiss either.

photo: socialbliss.com
This side of me is well documented by my husband, who in recent years has become my source of channelling my love of fashion. As I remain hesitant with myself, with him it is different. I feel confident to pick out pieces and style him. I know of late, that his colleagues have commented on his great dress sense. He graciously told them he had nothing to do with it and that his wife is the one with the style!
Bless him.
Shoes are my favourite. No surprise there then but with the baby on it’s way, expenses will be severely reigned in. I may even put a few items up for sale!
I hope to have the new blog up and running by the end of the summer and although it is very different to this one, I hope that my followers will continue their everlasting support and take a look. It may not be your thing, but we all need little moments of happiness.
Whatever they may be.
xx

Bad Hair Day? The Worst.

My Lord………..man alive……………yesterday was NOT what I had expected it to be. On Wednesday, I booked a long overdue hair appointment on a website that gives offers on high end salons in the city. I have done something like this before and had a very positive experience. Last September, I used another of these websites to do my hair. It was a success and one the best haircuts I’ve ever had.

Yesterday however, was an entirely different story.

On arrival, a friendly welcoming receptionist greeted me. All good. I only had to wait a few moments before my ‘stylist’ (I use this term very lightly) appeared. She ushered me over to the chair without a ‘Hello’ or ‘Pleased to meet you’. There was no introduction nor did she ask me for my name. I just sat down in my allocated chair.

“What do you want then?” she asked abruptly.

Taken aback by her rudeness and lack of decency, I showed her some printed photos I’d taken from Google of Rose Byrne – my hair idol.

 

She had no clue who this beautiful woman was which was clearly a bad start. In her broken English, she proceeded to argue and shout that my hair cannot be cut in this way.

Baring in my that my hair was to my shoulder blades and almost one length with long layers running through, her argument held no strength. It was clear that perhaps she was not capable of such a cut and I was receiving a barrage of excuses. I couldn’t believe that I was having an argument with my so-called hairdresser! I had booked this appointment, thankfully on discount, hoping for a relaxing and well deserved treatment. Instead, I felt like walking straight out of the door. Sadly, through these websites, you have to pay in advance so it was obvious that I was stuck with her.

The idiotic stylist began making exasperating looks at her fellow co-worker, like I was the problem. She particularly didn’t like it when I called her “aggressive” but that is truly what she was.

After coming to a basic agreement, the hairdresser seemed to understand my request. Well how wrong was I?

I absolutely detest the final result.

She has given me the worst haircut I’ve ever had in my life, far surpassing the time when my father gave me a lop-sided bob aged seven. Thank god I only asked for a trim and my hair grows quickly as I won’t be taking it out of a ponytail for at least a month!

Unbelievable.

Shallow as this rant may be, as a sufferer of BDD (Body Dysmorphic Disorder) my hair was the sole thing that I ever liked about myself so this is bound to knock what little confidence I have left.

Do NOT visit BURLINGTON’S BOUTIQUE in Oxford Circus, London. Unless you want someone to insult you for an hour and ruin your hair (!)

Pet peeves.

God there are some things in this world that really grate on me! Being British probably doesn’t help, we do enjoy a little moan now and again. I try not to let these annoyances get to me but it is very hard to control a reaction when I see them. My husband finds it amusing and after five and a half years together, he knows them all off by heart often looking over expecting me to complain.

Here follows my top 5 pet peeves.

In fifth place:

Impractical dressers.

I cannot stand seeing people wearing clothes that do not adhere to the seasons. I just can’t tell you how annoying it is to see someone during the British winter feel that it is appropriate to wear shorts or leave the house without a coat. It confuses me! Why do you think it is going to be hot outside just because you see sun?? If it’s raining, why are you leaving the house in sneakers or plimsolls? You know that they are not waterproof or watertight, you know that within ten minutes your feet will be soaking, so why do it?

In fourth place:

Spitting.

Aaaaarrrgghhh! Hate, hate, hate this with passion! Yes, I understand that footballers do this on the pitch, I get that, but for what reason are random people spitting in the street? I just detest it. I do not want to walk down the road and pass somebody bringing up phlegm, I mean that sound in itself is bad enough, but then to see it fly out of their mouth really takes the biscuit! Eurgh! It’s foul. Use a bloody tissue for god’s sake!

Third place goes to:

Prams. 

Okay, not prams in general, I have nothing against them but older kids in them. I have worked with children for the last seven years, I understand how they develop and what they are capable of. I can honestly tell you that a six year old child does not need to sit in a pram. So why do I see this happening all the time? They are not babies who cannot walk, they are extremely able. I suppose it deems for an easier life, for when that child kicks off, the parent can just place them in their pram. Why not put a dummy in their mouth too?? Wait – don’t get me started, I hate that too.

Another pram-related problem is watching parents overload their prams with shopping whilst their one year old babies toddle behind erratically. It is quite upsetting actually. I think it’s borderline abusive. Get a cab! Or carry your child! Just don’t downgrade them for your bags of shopping. Fine, we all need food but when the prams are filled with shopping bags from discount stores, well that’s the biggest joke!

In second place:

Never-changing celebrities.

By this I mean celebrities who have looked the same for many many years. Ones who are famed for looking a certain way and are holding onto the fact that it made them famous therefore keep that same look for the rest of their lives. God does it annoy me! Embrace the change! I find it both hilarious and sad when I witness it. I feel sorry for them that their only identity is one from thirty years ago. It is a huge pet peeve.

But not as much as my number one:

Sunglasses on the tube.

THERE IS NO SUN ON THE UNDERGROUND YOU IDIOTS!

That basically sums it up.

Hate it and have to bite my lip not to react to it.

I don’t have pet peeves; I have whole kennels of irritation.
Whoopi Goldberg