Yeah yeah, I know, right.… But I really missed writing...and recently I’ve started reading more blogs again, which, whilst I enjoy reading for the inspiration and the content I find myself eye
rolling and face palming at the blog
stereotypes that are out there that I struggle to relate to. So I guess I thought that as I was struggling to find a blogger a bit more like me, that there might be a gap
in the market for a blog written by someone who breaks the mould a wee bit…?
Which is how, exactly?
I’m not in my teens/early twenties, living
away from home for the first time, instagramming my Starbucks/Nandos/FroYo
…
I’m in my
thirties, am (newly) married, have lived away from home for 15 years. Until last year I had a "proper" corporate career in Marketing that paid extremely well with pension and health insurance and everything but I jacked it all to go and work in my husband's music management business on half the amount. I felt like a drone and everyday was I was dying inside working in such a boring and uninspiring job with people I had absolutely nothing in common with. Now I get to wear purple DMs or shorts and tights or even just bright pink lipstick to work without some middle-aged, Emmerdale watching, Clarks shoe wearer describing me as "snazzy" or "funky".
I prefer to buy my coffee from a real independent coffee shop (it tastes nicer don’t you know?!) but mostly it’s a
cup of instant Carte Noir or PG Tips.
I’m not a Mum instagramming my pregnancy
bump, my toddler’s organic homegrown pureed vegetables or describing my perfect
afternoons in the park/potty training/den building/potato printing afternoons…
I’m still
clinging on to my child-free lifestyle of party orientated
holidays with friends, festivals, spontaneous nights out and walks of shame in
sequins and feathers at 7am. Not to
mention maternity pay is now a long lost dream so as much as my parents and
parents in law are desperate to become Grandparents, it ain’t happ’nin any time
soon. Don’t get me wrong, we have our
future children’s names all picked out and everything but being in your
thirties, married and not trying for a baby doesn't make you some sort of monster....Yes Mum I do realise that my fertility is dwindling by the second...it will happen (I hope). Just not quite yet.
Oh and p.s I'm not into baking. I find the idea of a sponge cake with a mountain of buttercream icing piled on top quite revolting. Plus, I'm like, watching my figure.
I won’t be blogging my 64 different shades of
nude/pink/peach lipstick, my 863 strong nail polish collection or my 468 fake
gold plastic Primark costume rings.
That was me 4 years ago when I earned waaaay more money and was quite frankly self-medicating my depression with shopping. I have since made many friends happy by giving
away all that (expensive) crap that I was blatantly only ever going to wear once and then just pointlessly hoard. I only wear one
shade of nail varnish now (FYI, it’s OPI Lincoln Park After Dark) and I prefer
to wear jewellery that has been given as a present or that won’t make my fingers
go green.
I do not happily jump out of bed at 5.30am to
pound the pavements, survive on a diet of grapes and carrot sticks and wear a
size 24 jean.
I’m a
pretty steady, regular gym goer…Sometimes even in the morning. But it's a struggle not to hit snooze Every. Single. Time. If I can get to a couple of spin classes and go
swimming once a week I’m happy. I would
look better naked if I lost 10lb but realistically I’m always going to have the red wine/cheese/dessert rather than not. Life’s too short.
In summary:
I think
it’s cool to write about your life, I sure like reading about other people’s
but I cringe at oversharing, so I won’t be doing it.
I love
fashion but hate the expression “age
appropriate dressing”. I realize that at 32 there are some kinds of clothes
that are going to make me look like mutton dressed as lamb, especially as I’m
not a size 8. But I’m not willing to trade in my Black Milk leggings to start
dressing like Kate Middleton just yet.
I’m somewhere
in the middle of designer and disposable fashion. I cringe to see so many young
girls spend all their money in Primark week after week as I know they won’t be wearing it any
longer than one season. Where do they keep it all? I dread to think what would happen if someone sparked a
lighter near them with all that polyester and rayon…but let’s face it, who can really
afford to be buying the real Balmain jacket when the Zara copy is just as nice
at a fifth of the price?
So that’s
me. Let’s see how my third attempt at blogging goes…
Oh and by the way, if you fit any of those blog stereotypes, please know that I am only playfully mocking, no offence intended.
