Just two short days is all it takes to shift perspective to a new axis. The city location and the company of friends; the free-fall of no family commitments. No pick ups, no drop offs, no bath times, no bedtimes. It's enough to make me
pensive to say the least.
City breaks remind me of being in my early twenties when weekends were spent visiting cosmopolitan friends in various cities. London in particular always makes me think of my post-University days, reunions in sticky-floored venues, reliving our student nights. There is part of me that feels regret at never having lived in London; it's a rite of passage for many. I followed my true love, returned to my hometown and have never looked back.
This weekend, we had a great time, strolling through Regents Park, shopping in Bond Street, long lunches and late suppers. City breaks are so laden with the possibilities of the day; no time constraints. I return though with things to ponder:
How much my husband and I have a laugh together. How I am married to someone who
lives life - is excited by it, in its simplicity. He is not dissimilar to my son in his pure, adulterated happy approach to the world. We got together twenty years ago this week. Twenty Years!!!
How something subtle but ground-shifting has happened in the last year, in terms of how I regard my own style. It's as if something crossed over, not sure what, and I find myself less confident in outfits. Is this an age thing? Isn't the whole point of your thirties to understand your
real style? To take what you will of fashion and meld it into your own look? It's starting to feel like a hard ask and a weekend in the city, spying what I can only describe as
cool city career girls looking fabulous, make me doubt myself. This is new to me. I am not a doubter when it comes to dressing.
We were so busy all weekend that I hardly noticed whether or not I was in pain. This interests me. Is it possible that the pain comes with the quietness of my life? Hmmmm
Coming home is always good. Even though to start with, I walk through the door and surreptitiously spy a million things that need doing/moving/tidying/cooking and I try for the first hour to just resist the vortex and not slip back into housewifery. It's not that I mind housewifery, it's just that it has become such a defining feature of my life, I sometimes wonder what on earth I did before I had a house, husband, two kids and a dog.
Talking of the vortex, it's back to school for both of them today. Ungodly morning starts and frantic searches for missing kit. Is the answer to just keep three versions of every possible kit requirement so, even with the law of averages, you don't run out? Not that I am counting, seven weeks into term, but my son has already mislaid two mouth-guards, one shin pad, countless socks and one pair of shoes.
And just going back to the whole know-your-own-style idea...what should I make of the fact that I am now
longing for these patterned trousers?
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| ...jcrew patterned cords... |