It’s wardrobe unravelling time! It’s also… FIRST BLOG BIRTHDAY TIME! Somehow the anniversary of this blog came and went with a whimper sometime in mid-September, that I failed to notice while I was tangled in the timetabling of my life. I’m limping in to this anniversary with a sad 95 posts, instead of a victoriously round-numbered 100. How appropriate. WOOOOO!! RAAAAAA! ONE YEAR OF BLOGGING. Shit has happened. Shit then didn’t happen. Then shit happened again. Then we got to here.
So ok then, let’s move on to discuss wardrobe tricks for my fellow brethren (What are girl brethren? Sisren?) who need to occasionally look presentable. Do you, like me, need to look like you’ve got it together; like you have a brain; like you haven’t screamed ‘WHYYYYYYYYYYY?’ in frustration at your children before diving head-first into a vat of wine only mere hours earlier?
If you ever go out for dinner with ‘those people’ who ACTUALLY have it sorted (i.e. are childless) or go to an office semi-regularly, or just feel like you’ve TOTALLY LOST YOUR SHIT but want to pretend you haven’t at school dropoff, then I can help.
My # 1 rule? If you feel like crap, increase the appearance level of awesome.
Some of it even seeps in occasionally, particularly if you nab a compliment. So. The tips.
- In an office, avoid white. Coffee can smell white, and is drawn to it like a magnet. It will leap exuberantly from yours or anyone else’s coffee cup and dribble on you, making you look like a drinking-incompetent child. Just don’t.
- Make like Angelina. Black, black, black. If you’re at work, who needs to look fun? Tell it how it is. BLACK. Misery darlings. Shock them occasionally with an acqua resin bracelet or a brightly-coloured jacket. I have a favourite one from Zara – $100 in a fuschia-apricot-pinky sort of colour. I’m so down with fashion. I’d show you a picture but Zara isn’t online. They’re SO BEHIND. GET ONLINE ZARA. HURRY UP. I NEED YOU.
- Perfume. Smell nice. If you step in anything or the kids rub yoghurt on you or you forget deodorant, you have a STRONG COMPETITOR against the forces of evil.
- Makeup. It’s your mask. Don’t get told you look tired because you’ve been up all night with vomiting kids. That’s YOUR STORY TO TELL dammit. Shock them with your story. Don’t wear it on your face.
- 50 pairs of stockings. Because face it. That still won’t be enough.
- Shop online. Who gets time to shop? Does someone have kids who let them out? Does someone have a husband that’s not a Superhero (i.e. Mr Invisible)? Cotton ON for underwear. Witchery on big sale. Country Rd. Portmans on big sale; Zara in a quick lunch break dash… and I can almost stop panicking each morning before work. And my feet? Are encased in box-sized Hush Puppies. Shhhh. I’m old now. I’ve earned the right to wear the puppies.
- Wear cardigans, not jackets. Jackets attract small fingers coated in peanut butter like bears to a honey pot. Dry cleaners? Who has the time? Cardigans in all the colours of the rainbow (not at the same time) FTW.
- Scarves? This will be controversial, but I say no. Scarves in winter, yes, but in summer they are just ageing fluff. Necks are pretty. Necklaces are pretty. Wear your necks. Unless you’re a man, and then avoid necklaces at all costs. Probably still avoid scarves too, to be safe.
- Somebody pour me a gin and make me stop being a lecturey lectureson. I have NO IDEA what I’m talking about. I look like a pot-ful of vegetable soup some days, with random bits of clothing thrown at me, and different coloured makeups launched at my face. This is just me, and what I do when I’m pretending and I get it to work occasionally. Listen, don’t listen. Just make sure you pour the gin.
- After all that lecturing, here is an important video about HILARIOUS. Because it’s my blogiversary and I want you to laugh.
You know J Lo’s song ‘On the Floor’ which is loosely derived from the ‘Lambada’? It turns out the Lambada is actually derived from THIS. Llorando se Fue. Don’t show your children. They’ll get strange ideas about gender stereotyping. This clip has everything. Passionate pan flute. A man with a woman’s voice. A sparkly blue hat. Plaits to the waist. Gold boots by the dozen. Watch for 4 minutes of your life you’ll never get back. You won’t regret it.
Thanks for coming on the ride with me this year.