Happiness

KIM K AND THE FEMINIST CONTRADICTION

Among other socially important news stories this week – Kim Kardashian posted a selfie.

But alas, not the conventional, head and shoulders, face-drowned-in-make up-with-immacuate-shiny-hair kind. The naked in front of a bathroom mirror kind.

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In months, a week or even days, the media excitement and fan frenzy will die down until it’s tossed on the pile of previous mildly shocking celebrity activity, along with her full frontal Paper Magazine photo shoot and her sex tape.

But for now at least, general opinion seems to be divided into two categories: the, “Wow, she’s so hot and confident, good for her!” side, and the “Wow, what an attention seeking little whore” side.

I personally have very mixed opinions on the subject.

Love them or loathe them, we cannot escape the fact that over the last eight or so years, the Kardashian klan have taken over the celebrity ‘tabloid’ world once dominated by Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan. I’ve read arguments that the sudden growth in reality TV and social media was the end of the tabloid, murdering the middle man by letting the viewers and the followers hear it and see it from the horses mouth, making the once untouchable, fantasy like public figures infinitely accessible. E!’s Keeping Up With The Kardashians is arguably the biggest reality show ever made, making a whole family of privileged, non-talented, not extremely interesting individuals the most popular celebrities of this decade. In 2003, Kim Kardashian was a young woman giving Ray-J a blow job and receiving (what looked like the most dull and unsatisfying) cunnilingus (I have ever seen). Eleven years later, she was on the cover of American Vogue. She went from sex-tape-with-a-B-list-Rapper-trash to modern American ‘Royalty’. (Sorry, Will and Kate)

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The fact is, the reason that Kim Kardashian and her family are so famous is prominently due to her appearance in the sex tape. It’s apparently what garnered interest in momager Kris Jenner’s show pitch. So firstly, why people are so shocked that Kim posted a naked selfie I have no idea. Plus, her titties and nooni are ‘modestly’ covered with post-edit black strips – I mean, I’ve already seen her bare vagina in LOVE and Paper magazine and have seen her bare arse one million more times than I will ever see my own. It’s hardly new imagery, is it?

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The word ‘feminism’ means different things to different people.

Some purely believe that feminism means ‘the advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes’ – the Oxford definition of the term.

Some believe it is the females power to do whatever the hell she wants to do with herself or her own body as long as she’s not hurting anyone else. Some believe feminism means that women shouldn’t be the sexual objects that over centuries they’ve been glorified to be.

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So in the same breath, Kim could be seen as the anti feminist and the heroine of feminism, depending on your individual view. Whether she was in control of the sex tape release or not, on some level subconsciously, Kim lost ownership of her body. Anyone with access to the internet could and still can view her body in the act of sex/making-love/fucking, an act which is mostly conducted in private with hopefully loving and comfortable connotations. If it’s true that the tape was released completely against her will, then in some sense Kim was deemed control less and ultimately sexualised in the most horrendous way. Her private life was and is everyone’s property. For Kim or her handlers to turn that awful violation into millions of dollars, a brand and a career is arguably the greatest feminist victory. You can’t argue that Kim’s hustle is second to none. Along with the heavily constructed reality show, social media means that her and her family can be in complete control of what we all see. This selfie is a perfect example of that sentiment; her body is beautiful (as is her bathroom), she took the photo and she released it. Like her body, it is completely hers. Just because we as the public can view it, doesn’t change that. Plus, why does her naked body have to mean that it’s sexual? She isn’t posed in an overtly provocative way. The caption, “When you’re like I have nothing to wear LOL” is directed more to women than it is to men. I mean, it’s just a body. A body that has produced two babies. We all have the same reflection just before we step into the shower, whatever shape or size we are or how styled our hair or faces. If Kim is a whore, does that make Venus de Milo one too? (OMG Venus is such a slut, standing there parading her tits and almost showing her vag! Does she have no shame?)

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Call this comparison crazy, but man (humans) ‘created’ Kim Kardashian in the same way he (they) sculpted Venus.

“You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting “Vanity,” thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for you own pleasure.”

― John Berger, Ways of Seeing

And yes, feminism is equality between the sexes. So why is it that men can post nude photos, get their dicks out at every opportunity, moon like ten year olds and walk around with their BARE NIPPLES on show in the summer without a bat of an eyelid?

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But on the other hand, I have to admit: there is still a part of me that finds it a little bit… well… sad. I’m currently searching deep within myself to confirm why I feel that while fully standing for the paragraph above. All I can gather is that I find it sad that we, as a Western society, obsessed with appearance, bourgeoisie and celebrity, created the Kardashian-kraze in the first place. The whole image of the family and their whole lifestyle is an astronomical glorification of fame and money as overarching life goals. I find it sad that we have placed someone with no significant spirit, courage, talent, and magnanimity, bravery, intelligence, or perseverance, so high on a pedestal that young girls could look up to her. Kim and her sisters are only really famous for their bodies and the men that they marry, subsequently suggesting that they only know their worth through their appearance, patriarchal acceptance and the male gaze. I don’t know that many pre teen girls to ask, but from what I gather, quite a few of them look up to the Kardashians. Instagram is to them what radio and television was to me growing up – powerfully manipulative contributors to adult psyche. If posting a photo if your naked body is celebrated and then normalised, I have no doubt that young girls will start posting similar things themselves. Kim’s selfie could give a much darker message – your appearance/sexuality is your worth. You are a sexual object.

It’s sad because women shouldn’t have to show off their bodies to be looked up to, or to emphasis their talent, confidence or power. No matter how talented she is, the focus is always predominantly  on the female celebrities sexuality.

Of course, negative responses from other celebrities were rife. Kim began tweeting those that had openly criticised her. Among those were Bette Midler (someone who is incredibly successful without ever using her sexuality) with a relatively witty response, and teenage actress Chloe Moretz, who is yet to succumb. Kim went on to age-shame (have I just created a new discrimination?) Bette and “attempted” to slut-shame Chloe over a Nylon cover featuring Chloe and her bare leg. In all honesty, I would have stuck with my initial argument and maybe even respected Kim a little bit if she hadn’t retaliated and had instead marvelled in her own confidence with an unfuckwitable silence. But, who am I to pass comment or to even have an opinion… It’s her life.

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Klassy.

Mainly, it’s sad that we care so much about any of this. Perhaps if the sexes were equal (trust me, we are far from it), there wasn’t such intense emphasis on female sexuality, women were not so cautious, conscious or considerate of their appearance and more confident and content within themselves, all we would see when we refreshed our Instagram feeds (maybe there wouldn’t even be a need for Instagram) was a grown woman standing in her bathroom.

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Happiness, Health

There Will Be Blood

Men are wonderful, disgustingly frustrating creatures.

For all the reasons I adore men, there are also a few things – through extensive experience – characteristically exclusive to the less fair sex, which infuriate me:

Ladies, have you ever hounded a man ferociously after he politely turned you down? 

Have you ever told a moody man to, “Smile, love”, when he innocently minded his own business with a resting, anything-less-than-ecstatic face? 

Have you ever told a man that he should dress/act/speak/live differently, so that he may give himself a chance to attract a nice woman? 

Now, if I ask you how many times this week you have been on the receiving end of this behaviour, I’m sure you’ll have lost count.

But probably above all of these annoying behaviours, the one that makes my blood boil (pun intended) the most, is the majority of males reactions to our menstrual periods.

(Guys, I know that you would prefer not to know all of the gross, gory details, but since the reason you are here on Earth is because your mother had periods, you should and will know: Between the ages of 10 and 15, young women begin bleeding from their vaginas once every 28 days or so for three-five days (on average) at a time. The bleeding usually comes hand in hand with stomach/back cramps, emotional changes and even lethargy. This continues all throughout our lives until we hit menopause between our late thirties to mid fifties. That’s around 40 years of bleeding 12 times a year. I’m not here to give you a science lesson, so if your tiny mind is baffled and you need answers, read here. If you don’t want a baby mama or you want your future wife to love you, you should probably get as clued up as possible.) 

Since that glorious day in which I discovered a puddle of brown blood in my Tammy Girl knickers and entered the elite club of official womanhood, I’ve been aware that periods are not something that should be openly discussed – especially around men. I was met with embarrassed stutters when I announced the exciting news in front of my mums early noughties boyfriend. At school, we had to mask toilet visits in front of male classmates or male teachers while hiding tampons up our sleeves and sheepishly pretending we really needed a wee. My Gran used to hush me when I spoke about my still new monthly visitor in front of my Grandad, like the image of his darling little granddaughter bleeding out of her little virgin vagina might send him to an early grave. Even now, in my early twenties, I am so used to men squirming, turning their noses up or openly “Ew”ing and sarcastically saying “thanks for that” at the news of a period, that it’s just easier not to mention it at all.

(Image credit: Saint Hoax)

Periods are embarrassing.

BUT WHY SHOULDN’T I TALK ABOUT IT? WHY SHOULD I BE EMBARRASSED? 

Periods are something bestowed upon every single one of us girls unwillingly. Here’s there thing, guys – WE CAN’T HELP IT. WE DON’T ENJOY IT. IT HURTS. But since we have to deal with them and you don’t, I think the least you can do is to do your best to not make us feel like gross-vagina-bleeding-freaks-of-nature when we talk about it or are suffering with it.

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There is a loooong winding history, I’ll guess specifically with a modern social context, of period-shaming; men seeing periods as a weakness and consequently using them against us. There are a lot of people that believe that women cannot be successful leaders of business and countries alike, because we are ‘too emotional’ or ‘too irrational’. We are taught very early on that during our period we are deemed almost disabled, for fear of flooding, collapse or other dramatic outcomes.

And even the more innocent, jovial cases show underlying proof of social period-shaming. I have lost count of times a man has asked me sarcastically if I was on my period when he hasn’t liked my behaviour or attitude, been mad at me, or simply had more emotion than a Barbie doll.

Yes, periods do make us ladies more emotional and erratic at times. Our bodies produce different amounts of hormones at different times during our menstrual cycles. This isn’t just bitchy mood swings, it has it’s own medical term: PMS (premenstrual syndrome) describes the psychological and behavioural symptoms which can (and in my case, always) occur in the time leading up to or during our periods. It’s completely natural and we cannot help it. We might cry over absolutely nothing. We might react to certain situations slightly irrationally and do or say things a bit out of character. We might demand more love (cuddles), attention (hampers of chocolate and cake), or in some cases, complete solidarity.

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Unsurprisingly, when ignorant people (cough men cough – other woman are far too sympathetic) call this behaviour “crazy”, it only makes us feel like undermined emotional wrecks.

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So we bleed. Our emotions get muddled. But most of all, it bloody (haha) hurts. Your male body produces baby making tools with no pain, only pleasure. You have no right to an opinion on something you have and will never experience.

When a man reacts negatively to my period, I now never ever ever feel bad, disgusting or embarrassed. Instead, I feel embarrassed for them; that they are so immature and weak that they can’t handle a period. Why do straight men love vaginas and tits but get freaked out when those same vaginas bleed and those same tits swell and are sore to touch?

If you look at it deeply and psychoanalytically, perhaps it has something to do with the whole Madonna/Whore complex. I feel like our society has drummed the idealistic perpetual child-girl-woman image into the modern males brain, so that the natural growth and development and puberty of women appears disgusting. I don’t know many men that prefer hair over porn star shaven haven, or any men that wouldn’t mind anything more than stubbly legs and underarms. Women have become purely sexual images. Although periods are arguably the most naturally sexual thing in the world (we have periods in order to get pregnant and as mammals we have SEX in order to get pregnant), they apparently interrupt the male gaze for one week out of a month. Therefore men ‘hate them’, or are at least scared of them.

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(mic.com – image credit: Tom Hooper)

Some women also get really horny during their periods, which poses a problem if your sexual partner is a period-hating-man-baby. I feel so sorry for the girls that want sex on their periods and have to squirm with desire because their men refuse to cooperate. It’s all down to personal taste of course. But in my experience, real men can easily deal with it.

The real men will also buy you tampons and painkillers without much persuasion. Real men will rub your belly and fill up your hot water bottle and suck on your nipples, if that’s what you want. Periods are not gross things. Really, periods are beautiful; reminding us that our bodies are capable of the greatest thing on Earth. (Or, a message from Mother Nature that we successfully got through another month without an unwanted pregnancy – which ever way you chose to look at it)

(Image credit: Georgia Grace Gibson – BITCHTOPIA )

So ladies, be proud of your periods.

Men, carry on the good work, we love you for it.

And Boys… grow up.

Images courtesy of Instagram unless stated otherwise.

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Happiness, Health, Review

A Love Letter to: Bodyism

I’m not what some may call, a huge “foodie”. I don’t get excited about swanky new restaurants or Michelin Star chef’s. I’d state Whole Foods and my mums kitchen’s as my all time favourite eateries, and I let out a sigh of relief when my flatmate asks, “Shall we cook a big dinner tonight?”

But while walking in my fabulous neighbourhood last week, I noticed a place which conjured excitement within me mostly reserved for upcoming American Horror story seasons and mama’s vegan Banfoffe pie: the Bodyism cafe. I don’t know how I’d missed it.

I recognised the name straight away; I have been an avid follower of James Duigan and the Clean and Lean cookbooks since the start of my healthy living obsession in 2011. If you haven’t heard of James – where have you been? – you’ll most certainly have heard of his clientele; the wellness guru is the highly acclaimed personal trainer of Rosie Huntington-Whitely, Lara Stone and Elle Macpherson. Along with his unworldly beautiful wife Christiane and a team full of experts, he has developed the Bodyism Clean and Lean concept: not a fad diet or patronising unobtainable rule book, but a positive philosophy which is more of an empowering movement than a food and fitness guideline.

 Clean and Lean has a simple philosophy: Be kind to yourself.

Along with a range best selling cookbooks, Bodyism London, a state-of-the-art members club was opened in late 2015, ‘revolutionising the wellbeing experience’. Boasting a perfect team of top performance coaches and fat loss specialists, it is a space designed to help their clients ‘realise their physical and mental potential’. Within the club is the the Bodyism cafe; a hidden treasure, but gratefully easy to access and enjoy, as soon as you enter.

So, last Tuesday, I woke my flatmate up like a spoilt child and pleaded that we wrap up warm and go for brunch at Bodyism. It didn’t take much persuasion.

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As I stepped through the door I felt transported from rainy Westbourne Grove. The tranquil atmosphere is immediately calming; whether it’s due to the warm lighting, clean interiors and greenery, or the very inviting, bright and friendly cafe team, the welcome was similar to the one I receive after turning my keys in the family front door – if my family lived in Australia, and not a seaside town in Essex. Whatever it may be, it’s clear that the principles of the Clean and Lean lifestyle have manifested within the energies of the Bodyism cafe and club. It almost seemed as if I’d travelled out of London in a matter of seconds, only reminded that I was in fact minutes from Notting Hill Gate when I looked out the front window.

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I’d checked out the menu online before I arrived, which being very informing and detailed,  was nothing compared to the knowledge of the team – with no hesitation, they replied to my quizzing of food and products available. As someone with specific, sometimes difficult intolerances, I often find eating out tedious, forever holding the fear that the staff don’t really know what they’re selling, resulting in a unhappy tummy by the time I leave. But here, I trusted them completely. I had faith in my order before it even reached the counter.

That was, after ten minutes of whittling down my order. I went in with the intention of ordering a savoury meal and perhaps a smoothie, but at the risk of sounding cliche, it really was so hard to chose from the wide range of food available. It all sounded delicious, muddling my senses so that my ears could taste. After much deliberation, I decided on the Pancakes (it was Shrove Tuesday, after all), the Protein Boosting Paleo Slice topped with almond butter, the Nourish Me acai bowel, the Berry Burn shake, and a Clean and Lean Cookie. That really was hard enough…

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Instagram worthy #brunchgoals

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Controversial, I know – but I’m not a big lover of pancakes, and would never make my own on Shrove Tuesday. I did mention this when they were recommend to me, but, you know, the whole taste buds in my ears thing… Anyway, I’ll be honest, I was expecting disappointment. What I experienced could only be described as an orgasm in my mouth. They were without a doubt, the best pancakes I have ever eaten (sorry mum). As I ordered, I actually said, “If I don’t finish this, can I take it home in a doggy bag?” (I love that expression). Oh, what a fool I was! I inhaled the whole thing. My brain switched off for a minute or two in pure pleasure, until I attempted to scoop the bottom if the plate. Please, Bodyism, may I ‘av some more?

Buckwheat Pancakes: coconut milk + organic egg + buckwheat flower + berries + coconut oil + maple syrup + almond butter + cottage cheese

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After the inhalation of the pancakes, I doubted that my little stomach could manage the acai bowel – who am I trying to fool? I ADORE acai bowels. They are my favourite comfort food because they are oh so comforting and happy and delicious yet not unhealthy – Bodyism’s acai bowels aren’t just not-unhealthy, they are actually nourishing, metabolism boosting, and will flush out toxins and alkalise the body.

‘Nourish Me’ Bowl: Acai + Body Brilliance + granola + organic berries + almond butter + hemp seeds

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It’s very rare that I eat bread, and when I do my favourite is Pumpernickel. So I thought I’d try something different: introducing the Protein Boosting Paleo Slice. I topped mine with almond butter to continue with the sweet theme. It was melt-in-your-mouth-grainy-perfection, and I wasn’t left with the usual heavy bloat sludge after other breads.

Protein Boosting Paleo Slice: almonds, eggs, coconut flour, flax seed, pumpkin seeds, virgin coconut oil, apple cider vinegar, baking soda, coconut nectar, sea salt

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Admittedly, I was now happy and satisfied. So satisfied that I had to loosen my belt. So, I took the cookie home with me. Later that evening, I dipped it into an Earl Grey tea with soy milk. When I was young I was a biscuit fiend, and cut them out completely when I went health mad, at risk of overindulging. Biting into this cookie was like looking at a childhood photo album, or reminiscing family holidays at a dinner table. Biscuits, how i’ve missed your sweet crumbly deliciousness! I wanted to weep when I’d swallowed the last mouthful. But instead, I made my flatmate promise she’d buy me another on her travels the next day.

SOMEHOW, how on Earth I do not know, this cookie is made only of lovely, nutritious things, and is completely gluten free AND vegan (and comes in the cutest little cookie bag. Although, I did forget to breathe for a minute while eating this cookie, so probably very appropriate advice).

Clean and Lean Cookies: oats, coconut flour, raw chocolate, coconut oil, coconut palm sugar, vanilla, egg, Himalayan salt, baking soda

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The Berry Burn shake was the perfect finisher to the perfect Brunch. So good, I forgot to take a photo of the actual shake: it was a beautiful rich red and the texture was incredibly thick and creamy without being sickly.

Berry Burn shake: mixed berries, goji berries, coconut water

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Also available to buy is a wide range of amazing supplements. The whole team were so helpful in explaining everything you need to know about them. It’s clear that this isn’t just a job to them – they really are so passionate about the products and food that they are offering. If makes such a difference to the usual boredom portrayed in other cafes and restaurants. Bodyism really is a lifestyle.

I was genuinely sad to end our brunch and leave Bodyism, but not before I signed up for information of their countless classes, with a promise that I would return very soon. I really could eat there every day.

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Check out Bodyism and see (and taste) why it’s my new favourite place to eat!

Clean and Lean Cafe

222-224 Westbourne Grove W11 2RH

Monday – Friday: 7am – 6pmSaturday and Sunday: 8am – 5pm

www.bodyism.com

@cleanandlean / @bodyism / @_theluckyleo

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Happiness

Be your own Valentine

February 14th. A day that conjures delight and dread amongst the population. A day in which you’re treated; whether it’s breakfast in bed and a dozen red rose, or a stream of boastful over sharing of gifts, couple selfies and engagements.

Valentine’s day is a day to celebrate romantic love. We are expected to celebrate our singular ‘Valentine’ of the moment, buy them gifts and cards, and revel in the perfection of our relationships’ constructed image. For the same way I hate Christmas, I also hate Valentine’s day – it is a commercial, capitalist concept; a manipulative money making scheme with the false pretence of spreading joy and love. And for some, a not so gentle reminder that they are ‘alone’.

But on the other hand, I also love Valentine’s day, and not for the reasons that many girls do. I surprising dislike bunches of flowers (why would you gift somebody you love with a collection of dead things?), jewellery (I’ll buy it myself, thank you), fancy dinners (who are we fooling?) and PDA’s (just disturbing). However, I absolutely adore love, in whichever way it may manifest itself.

When I woke up this morning, I sent my mum, step-dad and grandparents texts telling them I loved them. I came home to a single red rose and my favourite incense from my flatmate. I cooked tuna courgetti for my best male friend and I.

There are countless versions of love. Whoever you are, wherever you are, I am almost certain that you have at least one person in your life that you love and who loves you back. So don’t feel bad about yourself that you aren’t at dinner and some flashy restaurant, or that you didn’t receive an Agent Provocateur pink box in the post, or that you didn’t wake up next to the love of your life: BE the love of your life. Cook yourself scrambled eggs. Buy your own flowers, if that’s your thing. Have fun with your friends. Tell your nana that you love her. And failing that, don’t fret – tomorrow is plain and simple February 15th.

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Advice, Happiness, Health, Interview

“There will always be more parties” – Things I Wish I’d Heard at 23

Birthday’s are funny things, aren’t they? Fundamentally, they serve solely as an excuse to dedicate a whole day to the celebration of you and your life, in which you are rewarded with praise, parties and presents, purely for having won the sperm race and surviving however many years of earth you personally have thus far.

I recently turned 23. 23 is a pretty forgettable landmark – it presents no new allowances like 18 or 21, and no philosophical rush of importance like 25 or 30. Even 22 had a Taylor Swift song. 23 is just a red flag reminding you that you are two years away from 25, and seven short years away from 30. Pause Taylor Swift for a second and you’ll hear a faint, monotonous ticking noise…

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I feel that now more than ever, twenty somethings are feeling an immense pressure to succeed. We are a generation of perfectionists, influenced by the media and countless sources of overflowing information. Technology is developing at the speed of light, and we are expected to hold on tight or get left behind. The Earth, once gigantic, has been made smaller but technology, so that we are all just tiny fishes drowning in one big bottomless pond.

I recently discussed a personal anxiety with my friend Steve, who at 28 isn’t much older than me at all. He told me that when he was my age, he didn’t appreciate being responsibility free and wish he’d used that to his advantage. It made me realise that nostalgia and first hand knowledge allows us to look back on our younger selves and see that we were unnecessarily anxious, because nothing is as bad as it may have seemed once it is in the past. Advice can help us to view things in a different perspective. Listening to others’ regrets could stir something within us early and help to avoid our own future regrets.

So I asked 23 friends, family members, colleagues and acquaintances over the age of 30 what advice they would give if they could have a conversation with their 23 year old self:

Fraser, 52, Insurance broker, Essex.

“If you’re not happy in something, whether it’s a relationship or a job – QUIT. It is never too late to change your life, you are never stuck in anything.”

Helen, 52, Hospice nurse, Wiltshire. 

“Follow your heart. If it feels right then do it! If someone else’s advice isn’t quite ‘you’ then go with your gut feeling. I married at 19 after lots of,

Are you sure you’re not too young?/Will this relationship last?”  

I am so glad that I followed my heart… As it was right! We have been happily married for 32 years.”

Vicki Psarias, Film maker http://www.vpsarias.co.uk  and blogger (http://www.honestmum.com) (http://www.mummysgotstyle.com)

“Keep truckin’, follow your dreams (as you will) but be open, always. Don’t pigeon-hole yourself. I had directed my first short film at the time, had just got a distinction in my MA in Screen Direction, but I was too hard on myself, my own worst critic and I would say in retrospect, ‘girl, cut yourself some slack, you’ll find the right job for you, eventually (when technology catches up) that allows you to be whomever you want to be, and it will happen after kids, a time when many will tell you your creative career will die. Well it thrived’.

Remember, things will work out. Hone your talent, be tenacious but also kind and life will work out the way it should.”

Joe, 32, Musician, South East London

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, but don’t expect happiness to be a default setting.”

Ste, 40, Builder, Essex. 

“ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS, wear a condom.”

Rory Gullan, 30, Fashion photographer, London.

“At an extremely stressful time of my life, my mum asked me, ”What’s the worst that could happen?” I told her, “Well, this”, to which she repeated, ”What’s the worst that could happen?” So I told her – “I could fail.” And she simply said, “Exactly.”

Since then I’ve used this in everything I do, and everything just seems that much more straightforward. Failing is one less thing to worry about because it’ll teach you a lot more than always succeeding.”

Julie, 49, Yoga instructor, Essex.

“Believe in yourself and all that you do. Don’t worry about what other people think, just know that you are attractive to others.”

Joe Mehmet, Salon owner and top hairdresser. 

“Invest in your future rather than live for now. As time catches up with you and then you realise that you haven’t got enough for the rest of your old life; In your twenties it’s all about fun fun fun but when you hit the fifties you need security as pensions won’t be enough – nor will the state look after you.”

Jake Mavity, 35, Director and producer, London. 

“Slow down. I thought there was a mad rush to achieve stuff when actually life is bloody long and you don’t have to have it completely nailed by 30. And relax. Twenties are rubbish compared to how fucking awesome your thirties are. The fun of the twenties with no insecurities and more cash. Bliss.”

Bobby, 33, Music journalist, Essex. 

“Nothing is ever as bad as we imagine it to be, and that feeling anxious is natural. It is perfectly normally to feel scared, but to let that fear prevent you from doing what is good for you is the most frightening scenario of all.”

Tav, 36, Club manager, London. 

“Don’t expect anyone to provide for you; the sweetest money you’ll ever make will be the money you make for yourself.”

Michelle, 53, Actress, London.

“The minute you have a back up plan you are admitting defeat. Don’t look for love, it will always find you.”

Bobby, 69, Club owner, London 

“If you look around a table and can’t pick out ‘the mug’, you’re it.”

Ian, 32, DJ and photographer, London.

“There will always be more parties.”

Sid, 70, Antique dealer, London.

“Just live life as it comes. Always be polite, manners cost nothing.”

Jo, 42, Makeup artist, London.

“You are beautiful. Just be confident, listen to your inner voice and do what makes YOU happy.”

Mike, 47, Managing Director, London. 

“Think twice before you cross someone because it will always come back to you. Honesty is the key to life.”

Jens, 70, Property developer, Surrey.  

“Don’t rush into things. Take your time and think through your options. You are only 23 and still have 50-60 years of living in front of you.”

Siobhan, 47, Deputy head teacher, Berkshire. 

“Don’t get to your 40’s and say. “I should have done that.” Life presents people with opportunities all the time. Some people take them and some people don’t. Don’t miss out!”

Richard, 35, Film editor, London.

“Don’t panic. Smile. Laugh. Have lots and lots of sex.”

Vero, 43, Saleswoman, Dorking.

“Don’t smoke. Get your cervical smear test. A friend of mine had to have her entire cervix removed in her late twenties because they found cancer.”

Julia, 58, Artist, Surrey.

“Self development, self development, self development. Make it a life long commitment and investment to become the best version of yourself in mind, body and spirit.”

Victoria, 54, Social worker, Essex. 

“Trust your instinct, and don’t let pressure get in the way of it. At 23 I had doubts about my engagement, but went through with the wedding so not to let any one down. As soon as we were married he became extremely abusive and I found myself divorced by 25. Don’t waste years of your life unhappy. As soon as something doesn’t feel right or make your life better, remove it from your life.”

 

 

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Inspiration, Style

A Love Letter to: Chokers

I’m not big on trends. My dress sense is pretty boring; bar maybe two or three items of colour, my entire wardrobe is black and, at risk of sounding pretentious, ‘miminalist’. I prefer to stick to relatively timeless pieces and I flat out refuse to buy anything that will for sure be out of fashion in six months time – partly because I am economic with spending – but mostly because I don’t really care about how ‘fashionable’ I appear to others. (I promise that you will never find a here’s-what-I-wore-today post on this blog)

But I am a sucker for jewellery. I feel naked if I leave the house without a ring on every finger and count scouring Etsy for pendants as a weekly hobby. Therefore, a trend that I am personally really enjoying right now is chokers.

If you’d told me five years ago that girls would soon be donning those stretchy plaited tattoo chokers from the nineties, I’d have cringed and spat out whatever I was eating at the time. But sure enough, with the monuments resurge of nineties fashion, they became a staple in every sassy kitsch gal’s OOTD, along with crop tops, flatforms, flannel shirts, baggy denim and Adidas shelltops.

Believe it or not, a young Drew Barrymore wasn’t the first woman to model a tight band around her neck – there is actually an intriguing history behind the unassuming choker.

During the French Revolution, women began tying red ribbons around their necks as a tribute to recipients of the guillotine.

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In the 1800’s, a black ribbon worn around the neck was a signifier that the woman was a prostitute. In vast contrast, it was also popular amongst ballerinas. Pre celebrity, female royals were the fashion icons of their time. Alexandra, Princess of Wales, donned thick rows of pearls and velvet ribbons, reportedly to cover a scar on her neck. The Alexa Chung of her time, the popularity of ‘chokers’ sky rocketed, and elevated the trend to high society women.

A century later, chokers were prominent amongst the fashion icons of the 1960’s.

And then… along came punk. Chokers became A LOT more sexually suggestive with a not so subtle bondage connotation.

But the 1990’s was undoubtedly the peak of the choker. Personally, I see the standout 90’s choker as Mathilda’s in Leon: The Professional. 

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A close runner up being Nancy’s in The Craft.

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Honestly, I’m not a lover of the tattoo choker or the beaded variety. Maybe it’s because it sub consciously conjures memories of gel pens and school discos. But very recently, I’ve seen many a celebrity and party goer wearing thicker, plain versions.

 

First time around, I found the 90’s versions really unflattering. I remember my mum wearing them and thinking it ruined her previously acceptable (by nineties and early noughts standards) outfits. But somehow, these recent pieces are in contrast extremely flattering and in most cases, extremely sexy; maybe because of the s&m implication… Maybe because it takes confidence to wear something so restricting and harsh.

In fact, like my rings, recently I feel underdressed if I haven’t added a chocker around my neck. Instead of taking away from an otherwise girly or understated outfit, somehow, this simple accessory can completely elevate an outfit, act as a statement piece in amongst minimalism, and appear sophisticated as well as bohemian, depending on your styling.

There is even a sudden surge of thick neck ties connected to tops or dresses. They’re not yet in every high street store – the best I’ve seen while searching online are by BooHoo and American Apparel.

Even movie star Kate Hudson sported a dusty pink version at the the Golden Globes this week, elevating the trend to Hollywood and to the masses.

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But if this look is too bold for you, finding simpler chokers online is easy. And it’s so easy to make your own unique version. I have used black wool and a charm… Plenty of creative master minds are selling their own handmade pieces on EBay and, my favourite market place, Etsy.

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IN CONCLUSION. Chokers have a beautiful, long winding history, proving that a ‘trend’ can be timeless and unique to you and your own personal style.

LEO X

(ALL IMAGES FOUND ON WWW.PINTEREST.COM)

 

 

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Advice, Happiness, Uncategorized

Break Up to Wake Up

I have never heard anyone say a that their break up was easy. Even if it was the obvious option, a mutual decision, or for one parties best interests. Even if the love you shared has slowly dwindled into nothing but a comfortable familiarity. Even if that person ripped your heart into one trillion tiny pieces, the loss of a constant presence isn’t something that can be forgotten in the mili-second it takes to say, “Goodbye”. The simple yet agonising pain of missing someone can be overwhelming and at times inconceivable.

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Of course, some people are quicker to get over than overs, and some are lucky that they are kept busy or disconnected enough that time heals the pain faster without much thought. But, I am almost certain that even those people have at some point found themselves awake at four am thinking, “fuck.”

Love is a real strange thing. You meet a stranger. You like them. You spend your very precious time with them. You share your inner most feelings, emotions and fears with each other. Whether the connection hits you like a punch in the face or is more of a slow burner, creeping up on you unexpectedly, it becomes so strong that our emotions translate it in our brains as ownership. They are yours and you are theirs. Out of the 7.125 billion humans on planet Earth, you have a favourite.

Now take it right back to the begging: you meet a stranger. A stranger that has a whole universe of their own before they enter yours. A stranger that owes you absolutely nothing and to whom you owe nothing in return.

But our brains somehow persuade us that we will never ever ever find a stranger whom we prefer to the present favourite stranger, meaning that when the break up comes, we enter panic mode.

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Cat Stevens wrote, “the first cut is the deepest”. I personally believe that your first break up hurts more than any other. Largely due to the fact that after the first, you have the comfort of experience. You got over them, so you will get over the next. And the next after that.

At 20, I broke up with my first boyfriend after three years together. I honestly, seriously, literally thought I would never meet anyone that made me feel more at home than he did. I thought that, at 20 – 20!!!! – that I would end up un married and childless, with ten dogs and an extremely large wine cabinet, still crying myself to sleep over the loss of my first love.

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I can’t tell you that I felt amazing and free and could laugh at my previous sentiments after two weeks. The cold truth is that I was sad for a good six months. I tried to date after a while, but the table space between the new unknown man and I felt like light years. It wasn’t getting better. I then made the cliche mistake of organising a catch up (let’s-attempt-a-friendship / I-just-want-to-look-at-your-face-in-person) coffee, after which we kissed and I begged him for another chance. Cough he said no cough. I was humiliated, and the hurt I’d felt over the last four or five months quadrupled and hit me in one big blow. I promised I would never beg a man ever again.

After that incident, I felt better by the day. My mindset became completely different, until I met someone whose company I genuinely enjoyed and felt I could have sex with without crying afterwards. I never cried once. A few nice men later, I found myself head over heels in love again. This time, it was my first love that felt light years away, and the forever alone sentiment, down right laughable.

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It is never too late to move on from Mr. or Mrs. Wrong. My mum met her Mr. Right after a failed marriage, two children and countless relationships along the way, aged 49 in Stansted airport after a delayed flight. They have now been together for almost six years and are yet to have their first argument. That’s the best example I have, and it’s a pretty good one.

A big part of waking up after a break up is acceptance; accept who you are, what makes you happy and the kind of person that could add to your unique breed of happiness. Even if your heart is broken and it was completely that persons fault – it wasn’t really their fault – you just weren’t right for one another. Once you come to that understanding yourself through time, self love and rational thinking, that acceptance will come naturally, and forgiveness will follow. If hating that person gives you the power to move on, so be it, but only through letting go of that hate will you truly, truly move on and discover your true love within yourself and for another.

Louis CK said, “Divorce is always good news. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true because no good marriage has ever ended in divorce.” It’s the same with all relationships, whether you’re married or have been dating for four months. A rational break up is always, always, always good news. Life is far too short to be in a complicated or anything less than happy, fulfilling relationship. Plus, the greatest things in our lives happen because something changes. Perhaps the relationship has been subconsciously holding you back from being exactly who you want to be or doing exactly what you want to do.

Being with the absolute right person for you is the easiest thing in the world. However much you try to tell yourself otherwise, or how ever much the nostalgia and the panic mode clouds it: if someone makes you miserable than they are not that person, and you should not be with them. Period. And anyway… You’ll never find the right person if you never let go of the wrong one.

You – whoever you are, whether I know you personally or not – are amazing, and you deserve happiness. The best thing you can do, the only thing you can do, is turn your hurt and heartbreak into a positive drive. Use this time to find yourself, excel at work, get healthy, sort out your shit with no ties. If you’re the revenge type (maybe you should re read the last few paragraphs if your answer is yes), happiness is the ultimate revenge. Being self destructive will get you absolutely NOWHERE. Take that from someone who has made that mistake and learnt from it.

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THINGS I WISH I’D BEEN TOLD TO DO 

  1. SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH PEOPLE THAT MAKE YOU FEEL HAPPY AS POSSIBLE. Family, girlfriends, guy friends, your pets, your therapist… Etc.
  2. TREAT YOURSELF. Whether that be buying yourself a break-up-gift, pampering yourself, a holiday. Happiness if priceless, even if it’s fleeting. Although please keep in mind your rent.
  3. TALK ABOUT IT. If you can feel certain friends getting bored of it (insert question of friendship quality, sorrynotsorry), find someone that has perhaps been in your shoes and is a talker AND a listener. It really will help. They might even point out some things as an outsider that will bring you to your own realisations.
  4. DO NOT CALL/TEXT/EMAIL/‘ACCIDENTALLY’ BUMP INTO/MEET FOR ‘FRIENDLY’ COFFEE. Under no circumstances. Unless you share a child. Exchange possessions, get your shit and leave. I KNOW it’s hard but it really will make it a lot easier in the long run.
  5. READ:HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU IT’S CALLED A BREAK UP BECAUSE IT’S BROKEN HEAL AND MOVE ON 
  6. WATCH: 19 Best Movies to Watch After a Breakup  I couldn’t have written this list better myself. 
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