Week 8… Copping out with a Cliché Conclusion

As mentioned on one of my Insta posts of late, this week has been a toughy. Both babes have been poorly and in need of liquid paracetamol. The big one has been acting a little rotten as a result and the small one was moving further into his plan to be a total sleep thief. I am shattered. I have been a bit shouty. And I have cried.

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The sleep thief. Cute as a button. Good job.

And the effect of this little set of circumstances has spilled into my attitude towards getting dressed. I made less effort because quite simply hands free time has been extremely sparse. I made less effort because I couldn’t really be bothered to think about it. Also? I’ve wanted to hide.

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Hiding. Albeit with fairy wings on, so not all that inconspicuously….

I’ve felt quite sad at times this week, mainly due to losing any sense of perspective in my sleep deprived haze. But when you feel sad, you don’t feel as much like going ‘ta da!’ to the world. And that means ensuring your clothes don’t draw attention. Not to say that on a good week I dress specifically to invite attention and that’s why I look so darn good, it’s just that when you want to go unnoticed, red lipstick and leopard print aren’t the way to go…

When I did feel like throwing on the leopard coat for the sling nap-come-stroll-to-get-bread, I’m sure I had a couple of funny looks. It could have been the pairing of the coat with the activewear. It could have been the way the baby in the carrier underneath made the coat sit funny on my shoulders – who knows? Another week I may not have even noticed. Or if I did, not take it to be negative. But that time, those looks made me feel uneasy. And for a brief moment I wished I had worn my mum coat. Much more inconspicuous.

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A ‘mum coat’. Waterproof, warm, wipeable…

 

And so I’m coming to the conclusion that the relationship anyone has with their clothes is unlikely to be totally straight forward, whether one likes to make an effort or not. A tension is emerging – 

  • I know people who, although they wouldn’t admit it, don’t make an effort to avoid running the risk of ‘failing’. Of not being considered to look ‘nice’. Or beautiful…
  • And beauty. Is it not OK to want enhance outward beauty whilst also placing a whole lot of importance on your inner beauty?
  • Is it wrong to want to make the most of yourself in order to catch the gaze of your man?
  • Is it wrong to prioritise other things and be loved to quote Bridget Jones’ Mark Darcy, ‘just as you are’.
  • Why can you sometimes feel too much when you go for it with your look? Is this just me?!

I don’t think I really can conclude these musings properly so I’m copping out a bit. I’m settling with a cliché – it’s all about balance. Yes it is a cliché, but I actually do think the best way could be to mindfully walk the line of enjoying beautiful things and enhancing your outward beauty (if you want), whilst not letting it master you, dictate how you fundamentally feel about yourself, or how you view others.

As for me and my non shopping pledge, this week has been OK but I’m sure trickier times will follow.  I’m still having a little inward battle about the jeans with the hole in. I don’t want to live a throw away life, but I won’t wear them if I can’t patch them up to a standard I deem to be acceptable. Then one of my major players is out and I really won’t know what to wear! 

2 thoughts on “Week 8… Copping out with a Cliché Conclusion

  1. (I didn’t mean this comment to be long so feel free to not post it!) Sorry your week has been a tough one with the kiddos, it’s hard enough to pull together clothes that work for us on a good day sometimes, so when time and energy is poor surviving is key. Maybe I’ve been a mum too long now – I do love when I get a compliment about how I look (who doesn’t?!) – but over the sleep deprived years I have come to worry less about what others think of how I look. I’ve honestly realised as long as no one points out I look haggard/dreadful (ok that might destroy me especially when on the edge), that I don’t care what they think. After all, I make internal comments about people I pass all the time, but what difference does that make to them? Nothing? They don’t know me from Adam and they don’t know my thoughts. So I’ve managed to apply the same to myself and others passing me. I won’t deny though that there are times when I wish we lived in London for the sheer fact that nobody cares because there is such a diversity of expression there. Sadly, middle class cheltenham isn’t quite the same…but then unless we don’t care and wear what we want/need/have to then we won’t break the mold. That’s why I love seeing you in normal stuff and adventurous stuff, even if you don’t feel it you do look great whatever you wear (and you so rock a pair of leggings!). Plus, being real is important, or else we risk hiding and not sharing real life with others. Keep flying the flag! X

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  2. Anna I find you so inspiring. I forgot to say to you on Sunday that I decided last month to do the rest of the year with you. Love you x x

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