I am trying something a little different. It seems this year is at least a little bit about the new.
If you know me at all you know I am a lover of clothes. To me what you wear says something about you. Something about your mood, where you are heading to, where you have been.
I tend to spend my fair share of time obsessing over pinterest and the clothing on there. As well as a number of other sites. I have just about perfected online shopping for myself, and am finding it more and more the place I go to.
That’s not to say I don’t also go into actual stores. That would be crazy talk.
So then, without further yabbering and needless justification, here are my latest lusts.
Alternate title: Things your daughter didn’t think she’d be photographing today. Bless her.
Confession. I love harem pants. Slouch pants, low crotch (google at you own risk) pants, happy pants. Call them what you will, call me what you will, I love them.
My absolute favourite pair are over two years old now. They have a small hole in a side pocket, but I am prepared to obtain and use needle and thread to fix them. Such is my love for this cotton garment.
I read an interview with an up and coming Melbourne designer a few weekends ago, in which he spoke of his love for this baggy arsed attire. He argued he loved the gender neutrality of them. I could not agree more. (I have searched high and low for the interview and can not find it – nor remember his name, if anyone knows, I’d love to know.)
I know this makes me tragic, and I am aware I am all kinds of hammer time wrong. But I just don’t care. My love of these pants began in the late eighties. I was a teenager, I went to a uniform free school for years 11 and 12. It was all baggy pants and big hair. MC Hammer – he may have made them famous, but I wore them first.*
What clothing item are you overly attached to?
*This may or may not be an entirely accurate statement.
As I scheduled this post last night I saw a flurry of activity on Twitter. One of our own is in crisis. Lori form Random Ramblings of a Stay At Home Mum posted this. Her husband is in intensive care. Together they have two small children. She is asking for our prayers. Asking us to keep her and her family foremost in our thoughts. This weeks FYB is a special one dedicated to Lori.
Everything old is new again.
So, here I am with a thought that just will not go away. It’s been brewing for some time, and I have managed to ignore it for the most part.
But, here it is, tap, tap, tapping away at my head from the inside, and finally it’s coming out. For better or worse.
I have a lot of stuff. Clothes mainly. I love them. A lot. Too much to be honest.
Over the past few years Hubby and I have been conscious of the furniture we buy, and try to buy second hand when ever we can, as opposed to always buying brand new form perhaps less than equitable suppliers or resource users.
We have purchased furniture from local second hand stores and by scouring eBay. We have also bought from Ikea, and I really need to look into how they source their woods, factories they use, how responsible they are locally and globally.
It’s no secret that I vote Green. It’s no secret that I sometimes use plastic bags because I forget my shopper bags. It’s no secret that I commute to work in a car by myself. Often I don’t check the carbon offset when I book flights. But, you see being green, being environmentally aware, loudly asking for coffee that is fair trade is simply not enough. Sure all these things are important. But there are bigger issues here. Being responsible for the planet means being responsible for the people already on it, and for the way we purchase and throw away.
My sister has a rule about electrical goods. Her rule is that she does not buy new ones. Some items in her home have been given to her, others have been bought second hand. Recently she was asked at a dinner party (for no apparent reason) what size her TV was. Seriously. As if this would have some baring on the way she was thought of and judged. Really, is that what makes you successful? The size of your TV?
And that, brings me to my conundrum. While I am trying my best to ensure our house hold items are local, ethical, small footprinted as possible, I am less so with my clothing.
Clothes and I have a long relationship. I was born loving them. I have always loved them. I covet them on other people, I see a top and immediately my head whurs into action thinking of ways to wear it, what to wear it with, where to wear it, what accessories to go with it… on and on and on.
I’m not brave enough to say I will not buy any new clothes because I know I will not be able to do that. But I am brave enough to say this year I will try to source clothing from a range of places that mean I am not contributing to mass production as much. I will try to recycle the clothes I have that are worn out, by reusing them in new ways. I will remind myself that while those jeans I am eyeing off are fantastic, I already have too many pairs at home, and I am not a big wearer of them usually anyway. I will make more of an effort to visit places like Vinies and the Salvos. I will get off my arse and attend at least one clothes swap event. I will keep eBaying and I will use Made it and Etsy more.
I will not buy for the sake of it. I will get creative with what I have, thinking about new ways to wear the dresses, tops, skirts, leggings, boots, shoes, jackets, and accessories I have. I will challenge myself. I will layer like no bodies business. I will. I will. I will.
And you, lovely readers will hold me accountable.
This is the hardest thing I have ever decided to do. That may make me shallow. But there you have it. Even now as I type I am thinking of my Country Road card and all the lovely offers it provides me with. But I don’t like to think about just how much money I have spent in their stores to be given such offers, and that it is a marketing ploy that I have willingly fallen for. I am thinking of the lovely new cocktail dress I have in mind for my 40th birthday this year… while I already have perfectly decent ones in my wardrobe that have only been worn once. I am thinking of all the lovely winter clothes that will (some what obscenely) be hitting stores soon. But I need to remind myself that I can buy, swap, recycle these items without the need for brand new.
That if I really want to walk the green walk I need to do this in all areas of my life, not just the ones that I choose.
So, this is me, challenging myself to be mindful of what I wear, where it comes from, and how I come by having it. Hard? Yes. Doable? Yes.
Instant heat. Ah yes, Melbourne, four seasons in one day. Being able to flick a switch and have heat in an instant is something I try never to take for granted.
High heels. I really can not tell you how much I love to them. Wearing heels make me feel great, and makes me almost eye level with some people. I don’t wear them often, but I always feel good when I do.
My Hubby. He really is amazing. He is the love of my life, my support, my friend, and I tell him that, but really, I should tell everyone.
Higher waisted skinny jeans. I have started a new love affair with them. It’s all the new, soft fabric they are being made from, and the fact they have a higher waist line than before, so much kinder to a more *cough* mature woman.
So, that’s me for this week… have a lovely weekend
Well hello Hump Day, glad you could make it, I’m ready for the downward run to the weekend and two weeks holiday. So bring 3.30pm Friday ASAP thanks.
This is the time of the week when I look back over the past seven days and think about what made me happy. It’s a little bit of positive in the busy and somewhat stressful world we all live in. It’s easy to dwell on the bad stuff… why do we do that anyway? So on hump day I like to think about the good stuff and remember that life isn’t all bad after all. I try to think of three things from the past seven days that have brought a smile or a little sunshine into the week.
So then here are my three then it’s over to you…
Friday evening we headed to the local shopping complex (it’s become a bit of a fortnightly tradition) to do all the things we need to… new shoes for the feet of the ever growing children, pocket money spending at stationary stores and lego suppliers, books, fish food, that top I’ve been eyeing off… then we choose somewhere for a meal in the restaurant area… not the food court. I love it. Relaxing, enjoyable, family times.
A weekend with my sister, brother in law and niece… including sing star. ABBA sing star. Nuff said.
A new store find on Etsy… 3 words ~ skirts, birds, screen print. Ok, well four words.
Now over to you, what has made you happy this week? Leave a comment or do your own post, link it back and let me know so I can come see! Lets spread the happy.
1. Copy the award to your blog 2. Insert a link to the person who nominated you 3. Share seven things about yourself that you haven’t told us before 4. Nominate other bloggers for the award share the love 5. Link to their blogs 6. Tell the nominees about their award
Right then, without further ado…
I have a least three different handwriting styles. One just for work, one when I’m thinking faster than I can write (this comes with my own invented short hand) and one for writing lists and cards. Sometimes they cross over into each other, depending on my mood.
My two front teeth are not real. As a child I smashed them out. Chip is not a big enough word. So what you see is really two big fillings. They are screwed into my gum. Noice. They need to be redone every few years as they stain from tea and red wine. There is not enough original tooth for more permanent crowns.
I am (as many of you know) TERRIBLE at responding to these awards… partly because they fall into the category of something I have to do, even though it’s something I want to do! I apologise. It’s not that I don’t appreciate them, I am just slack, and well… this brings me to number four on the list.
I HATE being told what to do. It’s like fingernails on a chalk board. Even if something is good for me, even if I may actually want to do it, or have been thinking of doing it, a sure fire way of making sure I don’t do it is to tell me to. Some may see this as a personality flaw, I like to think of it as a quirky charm… Ok that may be pushing it a bit too far!
I love clothes, no big secret there. I have always loved them. They have an effect on my mood. When I was about 5 in the rocking 1970′s, my favourite outfit was a pair of purple flares, teamed with a purple ribbed T shirt with a V neck and a brown belt. Funky yes? When I was in trouble (which given my hate of being told what to do may have been a bit) I would crawl under my bed and change into said ensemble. Nothing could cheer me up like my funky purple outfit.
I stepped up my toilet roll OCD-ed-ness (is too a word) and will change the roll so it goes OVER the top (the only way it should go obviously) at work. I am sure friend’s homes are next, *ahem*
I am sarcastic. It’s a way of life. I used to explain to bewildered looking people that I was being sarcastic. But where’s the fun in that? Now I think – get with the programme or get out. Nah, only joking!… or am I?
Today is the last day of Winter. This makes me happy. Very happy.
Every year I excitedly anticipate the arrival of Winter. I lovingly look at my winter clothing and can not wait to wear it. Buy by about one month in I am craving sunshine and warmth and a lack of umpteen dozen layers. And coat. And scarf. And long boots. And the need to put on and take off said layers each time I go form outdoors to indoors and back again, which as a Kinder teacher can be a lot.
Here in the hills Winter can be beautiful. Mist and cloud rolling in enveloping the tall gum trees. The chance to rug up and walk briskly to a local cafe to sit in warmth with food and drink. The ever present glass of red wine and heart warming winter cooking.
But it also brings with it a lack of sun, and no sun means no vitamin D. I like the sun, I need the vitamin D. It makes me happy. It helps my bones to not hurt, and in monitored doses it makes me look less pasty.
There has been a definite lack of sunshine this Winter. There has been a lot of rain here in Victoria… and while I am among the first to welcome the rain and it’s reservoir filling ways, the grey clouds have been hanging heavily overhead for too long. Spring will be a very welcome addition to the year, that’s for sure.
Spring brings warmth and the promise of sun kissed days to come. I begin to lean more towards white wine. Clothes that have been tucked away come back to mind. Sandals and thongs (flip flops not underwear) come out and so do sun hats. I begin to think about outdoor gatherings with friends… and the days seem lighter.
The sun makes me happy. So does it’s warmth. It lifts my spirit. So Spring, nice to see you, put your feet up and stay a while xxx
I know this is going to come back and bite me. I know when I am running 15 5 minutes late and yelling asking where my black top is my Husband is going to remind me of this post. Â But I think I have too much black clothing. Tops in particular.
Exhibit a. My top drawer, as in the drawer I keep my tops in, (Ms Pedantic-Pants is my middle name) Â is full to over flowing with black, and remember, we’re judging me for my amount of black clothing, not the unkempt nature of said drawer… OK? Be kind.
If, in a hurry to get out the door to work I ask Hubby to get me a black top, he is in real danger of a being witness again to a full on stabby tanty pout small whine where I lament, noooo not that one! The other long sleeved one! Of which there are at least three… thousand and seventy five. No, not really, only about three. It’s the mid-length sleeved ones that I have the most of. Then there are the T-shirts, the singlet tops, the jackets, the dresses, the jeans, the skirts, the leggings and tights.
Look, I make an effort to add colour… I have grey tops too, and even some with stripes… admittedly grey and black stripes, but it’s a start.
Sometimes I even make the same mistake as Hubby and pull out the wrong top and, adding to my slight tendency to be running a bit behind schedule, put it on, only to realise just as I am heading out the door thus needing to change it. Now I know what you’re thinking… if it’s all black, what does it matter if it’s not the top you thought it was?
Did you hear that? That was the collective sigh of wearers of black lamenting this misguided rookies mistake. You see, the trick with the all black ensemble is the different textures, the different layers and characteristics of the fabric… and the black bespoke (waves to Lucy, that word’s for you) beads I bought at the NGV just do not go with the black smock top.
So, as you can see, my wardrobe problems are difficult. I am dealing with weight of fabric, texture, layering… perhaps if I added colour I wouldn’t have this problem… But then again, now I think about it, if I start introducing colour I’ll have to buy a lot of it… because black only goes with black and a bit of grey, it’s my rule for how I dress* and Hubby and I have made a pact to spend less, and that includes eBay! … so ah, scrap that. Black is back, and here to stay!
*except for very dark, indigo denim, and that black background, green leaf print sun dress…
A lovely blogging friend Jade tagged me in this. (Jade is also the one who sourced the image I have used in this post. I did look for others, but this was the best image! Call it a little but of envy & sloth mixed together… well, it is a post about the seven deadly sins after all.)
All I have to do is share with you all my seven deadly sin temptations. So here then is a little insight into me!
Gluttony. What can’t you get enough of, even though it’s bad for you?
Chips, plain chips. Really I could eat them all. the. time. Put a bowlful near me and look out. Munch, munch, munch.
Lust. What does it for you?
Forearms. Seriously underrated body part. Also, a well dressed suit man… or a scruffy dreadlocked guy. But, if I’m being really honest the thing that does it for me? A really good flirt.
Wrath. What makes you cranky?
Down right rudeness. Blatant line pushing, ignoring merging traffic, shoving past people… seriously, are you so much more important than the rest of us?
Envy. What makes you green?
People with on tap child minders.
Sloth. How do you relax?
Sitting on my bed with a good book for a whole day, ignoring everyone and everything.
Pride. What are you inordinately proud of?
My Blue Eyed Boy and my Green Eyed Girl.
Greed. What do you get greedy for?
Clothes, clothes, clothes… and shoes, shoes, shoes… and some accessories.
I have in my wardrobe a well worn black velvet blazer. I have had it since I was 18 and still wear it every year, that’s 20 years of wearing it. It was second hand when it came to me. My best friend bought it for 50 cents in Vinnies. She gave it to me, as she is tall, and it didn’t fit her lovely long, lean limbs for long.
When we were in uni, I covered the silver buttons with velvet, this is the only change I’ve made. The pockets are just the right size for lipstick, and a small credit card plastic slip cover that also fits my license – I used to need it for ID, now I take it incase I’m in an accident.
The blazer is timeless, it still fits me like a glove. It has a well worn feel, and a softness to it. When I put it on I always feel great. It’s like coming home. That’s what it feels like when I see my friend. Home. It is home. She is home.
We have been friends since primary school. We have had the same, now very cringe worthy, boy crushes. We have roller skated in disco glory, sang with hair brushes to Wham! Worn gumboots and thrown fire crackers into puddles at just the right moment for them to explode in a flurry of mud and water and smoke… we have been wearing each others clothes for what seems like forever. Say the words ‘burger rings’ and we’ll both smile. We started our teaching careers at the same school. We have been through heartbreak, relationships, pregnancy, child birth.
I know how incredibly lucky I am to have her as a friend… have her as part of my life for so long. She knows me better than I know myself most likely. Â We are separated now by a state and a sea. We have facebook, and twitter and texts and the phone. We have planes, and the ability to slip into each others houses without the need to ask if it’s convenient.
And when we are not near, I miss her. But, I have a black velvet blazer with black satin lining, material full of memories and friendship and love. I wear it for style, and warmth. But mostly I wear it for the way her life and mine are woven into the weft and the warp of the cloth.