I ordered a bunch of stuff from the most hyped up skincare company of 2017. The verdict is now in.
In which we consider how keeping one eye on the potential to go viral makes us all write really badly.
A post about bloggers which quotes directly from Jesus. No srsly. Actual Jesus.
In a moment of desperation, I recently issued a tweeted request to my followers to tell me what is good about having kids.
I don't spend literally all of my time holed up in my bedroom furiously typing about Dior T-shirts.
I'm not keen on gatekeeping. if someone wants to be a feminist, I'm not going to be the clipboard girl denying entry to the club because 'you're doing it wrong'. Each to their own. We have to allow people to make mistakes while exploring feminism or we'll set the bar so high no one will want to get involved. But... But.
I am reaching peak Trump. To be clear, we are not reaching peak Trump - we, sadly, are far from the apex of this particular chapter of human history - but I am. I am on constant alert. While I apply my mascara and sip my coffee I watch American news highlights on youtube.
When you're me, dressing for anything is a challenge. Suffering from a combination of sartorial OCD (no frills, no patterns, no jewellery, and absolutely no more than six separate items in any one outfit or the world will end ) and a perpetual low key dread of looking 'basic', the stakes are always high and it never quite comes out right. My overworking, accessory-and-fuss-phobic brain needs me to be normcore, but my soul she cannot take it. I cannot wear a hoody. I cannot. do it.
I'm sitting at home on a Friday night, wanting to write a post but feeling a stuck. I have some new and entirely unnecessary beauty purchases I wanted to share with you, and another post in the works with revolves primarily around a giant marshmallow from Camden (true story) but the timing just doesn't feel right.
So, I think I'm probably not alone in wanting to approach this subject with utmost caution. When discussing how other more well-known people choose to run their blogs - which in many cases have morphed swiftly into mini publishing empires in their own right - there are always a few keenly felt fears lurking in the back of my mind. Namely, 'will I come off like the world bitterest h8er, bitterer than the juice of a thousand unripe grapefruits?'
I think I’ve spoken before about the little voice in my head which pops up periodically to tell me with sudden and persuasive urgency to shut down my blog (!). I don’t like too bring it up too often because I’m aware of how spectacularly ungrateful it makes me appear to my readers, who are almost absurdly generous in the time they take to tell me how much they liked my latest post or to just say hello. I recognise that a lot of bloggers get hardly any feedback on what they do, so I’d never want to come across dismissive, as if all the comments and likes and hilarious twitter chats are never enough to satisfy me, or are insufficient encouragement to keep me excited about my little online space.
It might be just me, but I’ve noticed a weird wave of re-branding sweeping through the ranks of celebrity blogger type people famous for eating stuff lately. It seems that none of them are, nor ever were ‘clean eaters’.
A lot of people think body confidence is something you're born with. You either have it or you don't, and that if you're not tall, white, slim and able bodied you probably don't. But that's not the case. You can learn body acceptance. Or rather you can unlearn body hate. It's not easy, but it's changed my quality of life in ways that reach way beyond what I see when I look in the mirror.
A few days ago I was overcome with what I was sure would be a regrettable impulse. It was nearly New Year's eve and I wanted a change. Specifically a change to my hair. So, acting against my better judgement and ignoring the stern voice in my head yelling something along the lines of 'this is literally something people do in bad romcoms. This is one of those things that goes horribly wrong every single time anyone anywhere does it' I grabbed a pair of totally unsuitable scissors from the cutlery drawer and chopped myself a fringe over the bathroom sink.
I know this might not be the most original of post topics to be covering in early January, but I feel genuinely different about this New Year. I am loathe to use words like this but I feel. . . inspired.
While I think it's important to model self-acceptance and body positivity to the women around you - the more we see other women accepting themselves the more free we feel to love ourselves after all - I also think it's important to acknowledge that body positivity isn't a switch you can flip and suddenly make everything ok.
This is going to be a bit of a gushy post, but Christmas is a gushy time of year. It's the most gushingest tiiiiiiime of the yeeeeeear, as it were. So brace yourselves.
I've been promising you all some video content for a long time now, but I've finally followed through with today's post. I'm still getting into the swing of talking to the camera, but it was nice to be a bit more casual and talk to you face to face (ish). I thought I'd start out with a quick update since it's been such a long time since you last actually saw me talk. I hope you enjoy!
You may or may not have noticed quite a few mentions of the term 'body image' creeping into this blog lately. I've even started to describe myself as a 'body positive' blogger in my social media bios.
It's all getting a bit serious. But why?
Bruges is beautiful, but thanks to a few quirks in Belgian tax law, eating dinner there can be outrageously expensive. Sometimes it's worth it (there's no price I wouldn't pay for a top notch fondue) but just in case you want to save a few cents on a trip to this stunning city, I thought I'd put together a list of the most affordable eateries the BF and I uncovered while there.
As much as I am averse to clichés, the end of a calendar year always gets me in a contemplative mood. What have I achieved, what have the last 12 months really been about, what do I want to change in the future?
Bruges is unbelievably pretty. Almost comically pretty. You walk around half expecting someone to jump out from behind a quaintly painted horse and carriage to reveal that you are being punked because nowhere in the world actually looks like a disney princess village you idiot. But it does actually look like that. And you can get there without the hideous self-inflicted torture that is visiting Heathrow airport.
Now, you might not think that you talk down your own body at all, but trust me, if you are a woman there is an almost 0% chance that you have gone the last 7 days without at some point participating in a negative conversation about bodies, fat, weight, or food. It's just so normalised at this point you don't even notice it.
This is absolutely not a sponsored post. Though I feel it is only prudent to point out that should Public Desire or any similar purveyors of beautiful on trend winter boots wish to shower me with cash in exchange for wearing their product for the rest of my life I for one would be entirely ok with that.
Hello. I am indeed writing this at well after midnight. Which is, indeed, often a poor choice. But whatever. Sometimes I get a strong urge to just jump on my blog and let the thoughts flow. To just get it all out so quickly that I can't help being honest and unfiltered.
I have really struggled to know where to start with this series. It's not that I'm cautious or shy about it. It's that there is so much I want to say about everything. The second I decided I wanted to go ahead and start The Body Positive Diaries I whipped out my phone and tapped out about 20 post ideas on the trot. I want to talk about it all.
Throughout my life I never considered myself to have had a bad relationship with food. I really never did. I thought that because I’d always eaten a few vegetables every day and had never severely restricted my intake, I was totally balanced and fine. I was wrong. (Ooh so dramatic)
I recently met up with my oldest buddy, who now lives on the other side of the world, and she kindly offered to take some photos of my one and only Winter outfit. They happen to be the first proper outfit photos I have ever taken in many years of blogging. Which is weird, but here we are. I used to have a wardrobe absolutely bursting with clothes. Bursting at the seams (hinges?). I had a penchant for cheap jeans and cheaper summer dresses, and I bought high volume and low value.
I took a long tube journey last Friday evening, so I picked up one of those free Evening Standard magazines and got stuck into an article rather breathlessly entitled 'The 20k-something generation'. I can smell a millennial think piece from 20 paces it seems. The basic premise was that our generation take a very short term approach to career progression, and choose to move jobs more frequently than ever before. As a result we are failing to progress to roles carrying greater responsibility, and therefore get 'stuck' in the position of earning 20-something thousand pounds a year far into our thirties.