I am now an inadvertent brunette.
Meanwhile, I am reading a lot these days. Not necessarily books, but masses of on line commentary and printed press. Frankly I get as much input and influence from bloggers as I do magazine writers; sign of the times. Every now and then I start to wonder though, just how much information I need? What is the need to know? I also read this post on the established blog 'Design Sponge' recommended by my friend Sophie, that really made me think about blogging and why people do it. I am still pondering it...but it did shine a light on some of the self-promotion that can exist and the slavish following of social media sites in the hope for more followers. I am at one with followers now. There have been many and some have stayed the distance, some have dropped by the wayside and I am OK with that.
I have, I confess, bought things I didn't need just because I read about them on a blog. I am coveted fashions that don't suit me or my life. I have considered different angles of my lifestyle and compared myself. I have felt bad/sad about my own life having read something about someone else's that made mine pale by comparison. And over the past few years I have realised that because of i) my propensity to read and devour information and ii) the immediacy of the web and all of the platforms like Instagram and Pinterest, I do this ALL THE TIME! It has, rightly or wrongly, become my norm. I accept it but have to really keep my logical head on and not get affected by the onslaught I read on line.
And, while we are sharing, can I just say that I am fascinated by Lena Dunham's nudity in 'Girls'? I read (there I go, reading again) Garance Dore's mini-essay on nudity and thought; here we get to the nub of how women feel about it. Really interesting.
I was given these cashmere bed socks as a gift (thank you Natasha!) and I have to say, they are one of the best additions to my life ever. Not often does something change my world; these have.
I had a wobble last week about the building work on our house. My husband (bless him) tolerates me in these phases as I work through my anxieties. He says I don't like change. It's not so much that, it's more that I struggle with getting through the bad times before the good times come. Isn't that natural? We have narrowed the scope and learned just how much it's all going to cost...deep breath now.
I am often surprised that things I expend time worrying about, then turn into little matters that I need not have worried about. Yet when that situation or similar arises again, I worry again. This makes no sense and is testament to the adage that once a worrier always a worrier and how the habit of worrying dies hard. I am making a concerted effort to slow down the worries; they serve no purpose. As so many less fretful readers have commented - life is too short!!
This weekend I am going to make this.
And I am going to read Bronte's 'Wuthering Heights' (again). I wonder if a love of books is something you're born with or if it comes later on when the time is right? Just the smell of a new book makes me happy. This is why I will never own a kindle.
But most of all, this:
(have a great weekend)