White winged dove...

Sometimes nostalgia hits me so hard it makes my heart ache. I wish I was one of those people who wasn't so affected (afflicted?) by the past. If it has been before - it matters to me. The future has a different dimension for me - in truth - I rarely think more than a few days ahead; a week at best. But the past? I have total recall of everything ever. My Dad used to say I had the memory of an elephant. As a child I could conjure up recollections of things that happened years before, effortlessly. The strains of a song - a few bars even - are sufficient for me to go back in time. Like when I hear Stevie Nicks singing 'The Edge of Seventeen' and I am transported to 1980's Floridian holidays, driving down the Gulf Boulevard with windows open and balmy, summer air; family times. I was probably wearing a towelling short-suit from K-Mart or maybe JC Penney...

via crush cul de sac

In fact when it comes to outfits I can also recall exactly what I was wearing (and most other people for that matter) with absolute accuracy. I wish this level of recall had a practical application in my life and was useful. But instead it simply serves to fill my head with outfit choices made by my friends ten or fifteen years ago. And then there are those 'hero' outfits or items that just stand out in memory. Like the penny loafers my friends and I wore at school - complete with a French centime slotted in - in that oh-so-chic (we thought) nod to Parisian fashion. My first ever Mulberry handbag, which I got when I graduated - brown, croc-effect; I wanted it to say 'mature' so I would land one of those swanky graduate jobs fresh out of college.

via crush cul de sac, photograph by pandora

The black satin strapless dress I wore for my thirtieth birthday party - I thought I had reached the height of sophistication! The best ever pair of boots that stayed with me for five years until they wore through to the ground below my feet.

I think a lot about the past and how it made me the way I am. My friend Emma and I were conducting another text discussion in amongst evening kiddy dinners and sips of wine, about growing older. We face our fortieth year. She commented that I had fully considered all of the elements of ageing gracefully and how to look ones best. Healthy hair, subtle colours; no grey. Impeccable dressing choices. Well-groomed. Good fabrics; no thread-bares. Considered jewellery choices - the good stuff. Looking after your skin - moisture and plump. Use facial oil! It all seemed like a lot of hard work when we described it, but in a way I don't mind that. It shows progression to me. Got to keep pressing on :-)

via maddie rose