you’d never know unless i told you, but these photos were taken a few hours following a rather extreme and out of the blue anxiety attack. those of you familiar know it doesn’t just go away after the ‘height’ of it and i can reluctantly confirm that i definitely cried and freaked out both prior to and (quite) a few times after this little photo break. and i’d definitely just done a full face of cute make up before the former ... #goals
you see, it’s funny because i look back at these images and whilst i adore the location (hometowns will always be special), the colours, the compositions, the ‘couldn’t-be-more-me-if-it-tried’ ensemble (if i’m not wearing knitwear and trainers i do not feel my true form); they will forever evoke that memory of how i felt that day. and the aftermath thereafter
and you might think that this would make me hate them but personally? i think maybe that’s why i like them so much
[ the aforementioned gola classics which provided a sense of comfort amongst the chaos. i've worn these non stop since i got them and love the little, green accent on the back ~ reminiscent of an old school tennis shoe ]
SHOP MY LOOK
to an outsider, they’re just another load of street style photos, shot (beautifully, might i add, thank you @bethanyevisuals) by another fashion blogger, in front of another aesthetically pleasing building. but to me, they’re so much more
they’re proof. proof of me feeling hopeless yet still managing to stand in front of a camera and shoot. proof of me feeling like the world is against me yet still producing content i’m more proud to share with it than i’ve been in a while. proof that although i feel weak, i actually did a damn good job at being strong, willing myself to smile and carrying on. and proof that yeah, whilst that was a bloody horrible day, it was also a bloody lovely one. and i completed it. with a sea view and the sun shining, in one of my favourite cities. oh, and there was a surplus of gin to boot (not the answer, kids ~ i just like it anyway. you do you hun)
so next time you try to judge yourself for being ‘crap’ or ‘useless’, how about reminding yourself of the things you managed to achieve that day? next time you see a picture of yourself, taken during a period you weren’t at your peak, how about reminding yourself of how you felt and look at where you are now. it may even be much of the same but hey, i guess that means you got through it the first time, amirite ??
this all works for how we view other people too
pictures don’t need to be surface level ‘curated fakery’ ... they often hold things we might, at first, not even notice about ourselves, let alone our peers
i’ve been trying to focus recently on accepting certain things as part of me. it doesn’t mean they have to take control, it just means i’ve acknowledged their existence and i’m subsequently better equipped to cope with them
there’s this maverick sabre lyric which forever floats around in my head:
“my insecurities don’t pay rent, but they’re living with me”
and if there was ever a perfect time to whip that reference out, i reckon it’s now (won’t be rapping it though so you can envisage that one for yourselves) ...
rounding off, following the talks of my 'comfort blanket' ~ the 'inca' trainers are my current, vintage inspired go-to's for those daily run arounds, with a timeless feel that's been taken straight from the courts. you'll be happy to hear that they feature in both the men's and women's collections, in a range of colours if you fancy a stray away from the classic!
am i the only one who finds a surprising amount of solace in wearing things where i feel most at home?
*this post was sponsored by gola, however all opinions, anecdotes and rambles belong to yours truly
highly aware i'm starting to sound like a bit of a broken record but look who's back on the blog again!
now if you're after a profound think piece about where i've been, what i've learnt and how i've found myself, then i'm afraid you're gunna have to wait 'til i have some sort of epiphany and life becomes a little more settled and certain because right now i'm only sure of two things:
one - adulting sucks.
two - travelling is a treat for the soul.
i'm not gunna go into grave detail on the former because quite frankly, if you're reading this, i know you get it (i still look at my demographics from time to time - i see ya!)
being honest, this year has been tough. dealing with heartbreak (anyone got any remedies which don't involve sugar because my sweet tooth seems to no longer be a thing and my dentist may hate me); house moves; mental and physical health issues; stress, plus having withdrawal symptoms from my world-travelling sister whom i miss dearly, has certainly taken its toll
but the latter?
i think i've been away more in twenty-eighteen than i have in my entire twenty-four years (okay maybe a slight exaggeration but i'm rolling with it) and whilst, admittedly, packing is no longer filled with the sheer excitement it once projected during childhood, and has somewhat been replaced with an overly-procrastinated chore, i've fallen in love with travelling. the freedom. the escapism. bonding with those who accompany you and just generally being in new environments and seeing different sights has helped abundantly.
being a homebody through and through (won't bore you with my birth chart but just know that i'm as 'cancer' as they come), i've even surprised myself. sure, i still crave my own company and comfort but there's also this new lust to be somewhere new. to keep refreshing my mind during this time where it's all over the place and remember the familiarity i get to come back to once it's done (there's definitely been some jokes from mum on getting a revolving door fitted because i'm in one day and gone the next).
twenty-eighteen has been the year of independence. on learning to rely less on others but knowing who's there when you're in need. on doing things alone which were once impossible without being accompanied by someone you know. on learning how to be single (and watching the film more times than you care to admit). on realising that your happiness is not measured on how somebody else has made you feel but how you make you feel. on preparing to live alone ... although, not fully alone because as of next week, i'll officially be a kitten mum! that's right, i'm full on ready to embrace the crazy cat lady lifestyle and i really can't wait to share my sweet, baby angel with you.
so whilst i say this isn't really a profound, self-discovery piece, i guess ikinda have learned a lot about myself, even if things aren't currently as smooth-sailing as i'd have hoped. the hardest times teach you the greatest lessons. (not sure if i made that up or subconsciously stole it but let me have it, pls)
and whilst we're on the topic of travelling - if you haven't yet noticed my new luggage companions, where ya been? the most stylish carry-on you ever did see (also doubles up well for multiple-shoot-clothing-cart-around-erer) and the 'fanny pack' trend i thought i'd never get on board with ... brought to you via Lipault's limited edition collab with Jean Paul Gaultier. the pieces are lightweight, feature multiple compartments (which have actually begun to reignite my joy for packing, i won't lie) and take inspiration from two of JPG's faves : the pinstripe suit and Madonna's famous, conical corset.
you can view the full, twelve piece collection here or pop into one of Lipault's four, brand new stores across london to grab twenty percent off with #JPG20
~ this post was sponsored by Lipault, however all opinions, anecdotes and rambles belong to yours truly
and no matter how often i say it out loud, write it down, type it out ... i still end up leaving this space alone for far too long. never forgetting, but more ignoring. procrastinating. neither of which i’m proud to admit.
my old pal, chlo, wrote a post recently about blogging, in its traditional form (or the lack thereof in our modern and ever-evolving industry) and it really struck a chord with me. hit home.
for the past week, i’ve been feeling extremely overwhelmed, uncertain and despondent. and to be quite honest, when it comes to that, there’s only one thing for it ~ again ... home. i remember how much upset and resentment we felt when my parents (mum & step dad, for those who are new here!) decided to uproot and sell our family house. i say ‘house’ because whilst, yes, we grew up there, made memories, shared so much love and laughter, learned lessons which have shaped entire fragments of ourselves today; those four walls were just that. walls. beautiful walls at that, but still merely bricks, nonetheless. and the rest of that stuff i mentioned? the good, profound shit which makes us feel warm and fuzzy? well, that all comes from the people inside them.
in a few weeks, my best friend (otherwise known as my big, baby-faced and A* sister) moves away. travelling the world and learning invaluable lessons amongst unfamiliar cultures. in a few weeks we’ll be leaving our little, could-be-hoovered-more-but-that’s-how-we-like-it hovel and taking our next steps ...
her? back to brighton for a pit stop until the inevitable journey begins.
me? well, to be honest i’m not really sure. in the unlikely scenario i find a place by then, i’ll be up in london for the foreseeable. and if not? back to brighton, and mum’s welcoming arms with sis, until the right one comes up.
but even then, i’ll be living alone. don’t forget working alone since i took the plunge into full-time freelancing back in march. this, to me, is pretty scary. i’m not gunna lie by saying i’m the *most* emotionally stable human on the planet and my mood swings leave a lot to be desired as well. the idea of having an entire place to myself, on one hand, fills me with excitement and enthusiasm, whilst simultaneously spiralling my being into a pit of anxiety and despair.
i like being alone, but nobody wants to be lonely. and my gosh, is there a difference.
lately, loneliness has manifested itself whilst being alone and that’s where the worry sets in when the relocation finally does happen. living with a stranger is just not an option and living with a friend has not really worked out in terms of timings. do i go back to a more ‘traditional’ job, involving physical, human interaction? get a pet? (animals are far superior to humans, no offence) or, as my inner-conscience keeps yelling, suck it up and stop crying ... the latter being easier said than done.
change is amazing. but also emotionally draining. as is losing your sister to exotic countries across the world, but that’s just coming from a selfish POV. for a while i’ve been suppressing these uncertainties and sadnesses, so as to not fall behind and become unproductive. i’ve been letting stuff slide, which has actually upset me; focusing myself on work, other people and their problems, all the while ignoring my own. i’m now realising that probably wasn’t the best idea, since it’s all releasing itself in one, giant flood and what was once ‘liv’ has been replaced by a withered and energy-less puddle, who mainly thinks about bed and gin (the best things in life, alongside animals tbh).
the reason i’m back here releasing all my feels to those of you who have patiently stuck around throughout my absence, is exactly because of what chlo’s post reminded me ~ why i started. this blog began as a creative and emotional outlet during the peak of my battle with anxiety. a safe place of self-expression, honesty, sanctuary and usually some sort of badly told anecdote.
my online home.
and aside from spending time with my family and receiving all the tlc from mumma ~ there’s no other place i’d rather be right now.