Fashion Is My Foe

Fashion has never been my friend, it has always been my foe. We are like chalk and cheese. Pressurised at school, and desperate to be cool, I pursued fashion for many years. It didn't always suit me, but it was fashionable right? I've only recently given up buying trashy magazines emblazoned with images telling me how this skirt will make me look great etc. Sorry, but tulip skirts are ridiculous...I think they are the ugliest fashion item to have ever been made. Well one of them. Jumpsuits and shoulder pads are infinitely worse.

As a teenager I used to enjoy shopping. However, in my old age I have developed a dislike of crowds and people who walk slowly - that is what shopping is all about. I can't stand it. And in the age of the internet I feel more comfortable buying clothes online now. That, and my ethics have changed. Where possible I want my clothes to be fairly traded, even better if they can be made with organic materials. I can't get everything appropriate from fair trade clothes websites however, often because I can't afford the price tag. I am doing a fairly good job at wearing out the clothes I currently own though. My wardrobe hasn't had that many new additions since I left university. I had to sew up a hole in a black linen skirt during my lunch break the other day, because a colleague had spotted my knickers through it...oops... Yep, a lot of my clothes are getting a little worn, but if I can make them survive then I can avoid shopping!

So, you get my drift - I hate fashion and I hate shopping. The two are usually synonomous with one another. On occasion, however, I have to brave the high street. Shoe shopping (which I loathe above all) is usually one reason why because I have awkward feet and I need to check any new shoes will fit me properly. My most recent "proper" shopping expedition was a few weeks ago, when my brother's girlfriend, who is also a good friend of mine, and I headed into our local city to hunt out belly dancing outfits. We take belly dancing classes once a week and our class is putting on an 'Arabian Nights' themed show in less than a month's time. We are performing a duet to a song by our favourite band, and therefore we needed quite specific costumes that match/complement each other's. The internet proved lacking in the colours we desired - purple and black - and so we braved sweltering temperatures and crowds on a Saturday afternoon to hunt out our dream outfits. We were lucky enough to stick to the city's back streets and buy the perfect purple tops with matching coin belts, as well as pretty shiny material to make our dance veils with, from a couple of specialist shops there. This meant we could avoid the horrible city centre complete with it's stuffy mall, badly stocked high street, and frightening fashionistas who watch you like a hawk just because your tie-dye dress is so 1969 man! So, a successful trip for us both, completed with a good guzzling of Guarana Antarctica (that stuff is amazing and deserves a future blog post for itself).

I didn't have to worry about tackling another carbon copy high street again until yesterday. And eww, was it nasty! My fiance needed a his hair cut before we head off on holiday this weekend so I stayed in the city where we both work, waiting for him, and decided to do some shopping, primarily for a road atlas for him. Secondarily I thought I would kill time by looking for the final addition to our 'Arabian Nights' outfits. We need black gypsy skirts. Long, flowing, pretty black skirts. And I couldn't find any anywhere. No, instead I came across, and I am really not joking, human-sized versions of the very clothing I used to dress my Barbie and Sindy dolls with back in the 80s. Horrific - that very same hot pink one shoulder dress (the shoulder bit has a flowing trumpet style addition to it...), the very same clashing floral boob tube with random frills that fluff out of nowhere. Please don't tell me people are buying this stuff... Neon stuff everywhere. Argh! Ok, so I hate fashion, and therefore I technically have no right to judge what the "fashionable" shops choose to stock, but I couldn't believe that the light, pretty hippy summer clothes that are available every year were no where to be seen. They had been replaced with monstrous over-sized outfits that had originally been designed for plastic dolls with weird proportions! Not one high street shop could offer me a simple long black skirt with a bit of flare. Oh, as it's a belly dance we could wear harem pants because they are apparently in fashion right now... No, no, no! We are representing spinning dancing black holes, it's all about seamless flow, only skirts will do!

Yep, that experience has reminded me why I will (almost) never shop on the high street again! The reason I chose to risk it on this occasion was because my internet favourites had let me down too. However, I have yet to try the more individual shops back in my local city (we didn't look for skirts that particular Saturday because we were under the illusion that they would be easy to find at a later date). And here's hoping that will be fruitful.

I hate fashion, fashion is my foe. When it reproduces my Barbie doll's clothes it takes it all too far.

Rant over...

Why Trivialising Phobias Isn't Helpful

The hot summer weather is usually presumed a good thing, but whilst I enjoy the excuse to eat copious amounts of ice cream, it also signals the increased likelihood of thunder storms. This fills me with a certain element of dread, for I suffer from brontophobia (personally I think that is the greatest phobia name ever!), which means a fear of thunder and lightning storms, which apparently can also be termed as keraunophobia or astraphobia. This is no mere dislike of storms, no it is a proper full-blown fear. Dark clouds on a heavily humid day put me on alert. Quite often rain will come but not always thunder. Even so, if the heavy air indicates a storm I will start to be worried. When sparks fly up from the train home on days like this I am particularly jumpy. Camera flashes on such days don't help either. So, I wander around nursing extra anxiety in my chest on such days.

When a storm really does happen then the fear enters it's full blown realm. I shake, feel horribly nauseous, can't sleep, and definitely, no way, can stay on my own. Even with a whole group of other people my symptoms don't change, but they are considerably worse on the couple of occasions when I have been alone. I also turn off all electrical appliances and stay away from phones and showers (you might think that's crazy, but actually that's sensible advice). Most people wouldn't be phased by such things, especially in the UK. I know, it's not like we live in USA where some regions experience severe thunder storms at certain times of year. I would hate to have my phobia and be living there! My phobia doesn't interfere with daily life, as it can only come to the surface every so often. I'm lucky to be living in Britain for that reason! My other major fear, arachnophobia, exists on a similar premise - I don't come into contact with spiders on a daily basis, but when I do it's not pleasant - I have to run out of the room that I find a spider in and absolutely insist that someone removes the offensive creature from the building before I vomit everywhere.

Anyway, the reason I am blabbering on about my specific fears is that I have real difficulty with people who don't understand, who don't even try to, just because it doesn't scare them. Both family and friends have made me feel pretty stupid for being terrified of storms and spiders. "Oh, you'll grow out of it" they say. Erm...mid-twenties, fears still as acute as always, don't think there's much chance of "growing out of it." Phobias are actually a form of anxiety disorder, and are therefore caused by imbalances in the brain. Usually they are triggered by a past event or ordeal, or they are the effect of nature gone a bit haywire. For example, in evolution it would be natural to be wary of a poisonous snake, and where possible to avoid one altogether, let alone just avoid upsetting it. A phobia of a snake, however, is worrying everytime you walk in the woods you will risk stepping on one, feeling sick when you see one safely behind glass in a zoo, or (like one of my housemates) running out of the room when one appears on a television documentary. The fear is palpable, and being told to "just grow up" or "they can't really hurt you" or "they're not likely to hurt you" is just not good enough. Not to mention a tad patronising. Don't you think I'm aware that a common British house spider can't eat my face? It doesn't mean I want to share a room with it! Don't you think I'm aware that it is unlikely I will ever be hit by lightning, and that thunder itself does no damage? Of course I am, but no amount of pep talk will get rid of a phobia. You can be as logical as you like about it, so can I - I've tried, it doesn't work. And I have really tried with a "can do" attitude. Apparently hypnotism works for some people, not really my game. Cognitive behavioural therapy can work for those with social phobias, and I guess it could for other fears too. Again, would rather not go there. I have no specific event in my life to tie-in with my phobias, none at all. I just have them. I can live with them, as long as people can come to my rescue. I have actually cried and shouted until a family member or friend has removed a spider from the house. They think I'm being an overreactive idiot, so do I, but it only happens a couple of times a year. Same with thunder storms. So it's something I can put up with, even though the experience is very unpleasant for me.

This is just a plea really, to all of you who are lucky enough to be phobialess (yes, I did just make that word up). Have a little sympathy, and count yourself lucky that you don't have to experience physical symptoms and stress when you encounter something your brain believes to be untoward and dangerous.

Summer

Yesterday a visitor at my office was taken aback when he asked me the date and I politely replied that it was 22nd June. He couldn't believe that the previous day had been the longest day of the year, and then, in that typically British way, he began to bemoan the fact that we hadn't had much of a summer. I challenged him on this though. I mean, seriously, where has this guy been? We've had some great weather this May (which technically isn't summer) and June. And we still have July and August to go, not to mention the potential for some summery style weather in September. So I thought this guy was being pretty pessimistic. He shrugged and said he supposed I was right, but that all of his childhood (I'm guessing 60s/70s) he remembered long, hot summers.

Sure...

I mean, yeah, weather changes, and there is no denying that the summers of 2007 and 2008 were almost complete washouts compared with recent years! This summer probably won't be the best either, but it's already been a damn site better than last year! It made me think though. This man was telling me all his childhood summers had been long and hot, and whilst he didn't say, I am assuming he spent them in this country and not the Tropics. I think, however, that not all of the summers he lived through were as perfect as he remembers.

For me, the hottest summer I remember is that of 2003. However, according to records, I know that 2003 was not, in fact, the hottest summer I have lived through. But it was a brilliant summer. I finished my A-Levels in mid-June, and didn't start university until mid-September, so I had a summer of freedom! My friends and I were constantly out and about spending days by the sea, lazing in parks, camping on the Downs, barbequing in our parents' gardens...every birthday party in those months was held outside... We all had a great time - many of my friends, like me, were off to university that year, and others were off travelling or pursuing gap years and careers. So it was a big summer of partying and enjoying the freedom before more hard work came along. I also had a part-time job doing bar work and waitressing at one of the local pubs on the village green. Built in the 15th century it offered virtually no respite from the soaring temperatures, as the low beams and dark walls kept the heat firmly locked inside. It was horrible when people ordered steaming steaks and roasts - I'm amazed the chefs in the kitchen didn't collapse in what had become a sauna - seriously, no need for ovens, you could put a lump of beef on the work surface and it would cook in seconds! Ok, that last bit was something of an embellishment of the truth...but you get my drift - it was hot, hot, hot in there!

It was a hot summer, but I remember it so much more because of all the things we did. I was constantly outside with my friends and family, and the pub kept running out of ice because of how ridiculously thirsty the staff were, let alone the punters! There may have been less camping and more indoor buffets than barbeques had it been a rainy summer, but would that have made it any less memorable? Definitely not. Summer, like any time of year, is what you make it. This year we've had some pretty good weather, indulging in picnics and barbeques. It wasn't a hot day when I went to the wedding (as described in my previous post), but it was still a fantastic day. Last summer I went to two weddings, and it absolutely chucked it down for both. However, they were still beautiful and memorable days.

It can be disappointing when our summers aren't like those of 2003, or of this visitor's past... I should know, I have SAD, and I miss the sun terribly when it doesn't shine. But more importantly is what we do with the summer. Keeping that stiff upper lip and getting on with it, come rain or shine. I mean, come on, it wouldn't be Britain if the we didn't have to stand on rain alert everytime we hang the bed linen out to dry in the garden...British holidays wouldn't be the same without the 'just in case' rain mac stuffed in your rucksack...likewise, they wouldn't be the same without the comedy sunburn marks because you didn't realise how powerful the British summer sun can be (come on people, you can't have it both ways!)

Whatever this man's childhood was like, I'm sure his happy memories come from the things he did and enjoyed in the summer, rather than from the hot weather itself. Of course, good weather always helps with certain activities, but it needn't be the defining factor of good times spent.

Enjoy the summer we're having right now, whatever the weather, I know I am :)

An Inspiration

On Saturday I went to the wedding of my childhood best friend. It was fantastic. I've been to quite a few weddings now - the further I've got into my twenties the thicker and faster the invitations have come, as friends pair up and seal their union in marriage.

I love weddings. They are always such beautiful, joyful events, but especially when it is the marriage of someone you know well, someone you share many memories with. That is what it was like for me on Saturday. My childhood best friend is nine days younger than me, we were born in the same hospital, and used to live just around the corner from each other. When we were still babies our families moved, mine a bit further south to the coast, and hers a bit further north to the centre of the county. Despite this our families remained good friends, and many a Sunday was spent together. When we reached our late teens we grew apart, our lives being led in different directions. Nevertheless, our mums have "kept up to date" with each other, and as such we had something of a reunion last summer, both families together. It was on this occasion that my childhood best friend and her boyfriend announced to us their engagement, and so it was with great pleasure that my family, my fiance, and I attended their awesome wedding this weekend just gone.

The wedding was so special because it was that of my childhood best friend, but also because she and her husband are so clearly made for each other. Their love is obvious for all to see, and this was reflected in their big day. Family and close friends were in attendance, and every last touch to the wedding was amazing. Why? Because they had done everything themselves, with the help of special (and very talented) people, mainly family. Everything was hand-made from recycled and/or organic materials, from the bridal dresses to the placemats, from the bunting to the flowers, I could go on  And it all looked absolutely beautiful. Every last touch was organic or recycled, so completely ethical, at the same time reflecting the lifestyle of the bride and groom so completely. It really was magical.

The reception venue was the next amazing thing. The groom's grandparents live in a wonderful house in the countryside, with fantastic landscaped gardens that they open up in the summer for visitors to raise money for charity. These gardens were perfect for adventure, games, and just taking a wander around after a very filling but absolutely delicious organic lunch - in fact running round parts of the garden was essential to make room for the equally delicious organic buffet that was served in the evening!

We couldn't have asked for a more special day. The marriage of my childhood best friend to the love of her life that was all about their love and their values. There was no conforming to the norm. Yes there were plenty of traditions - they were married in a church, there were bridesmaids and a best man, there were speeches at the reception, there was a cake (with lots of yummy cupcakes!) etc, but the day was still uniquely their own.

We left completely inspired. We won't be copying their wedding, but it has encouraged us more than ever to be conscious of our choices for our big day, and also to ensure we don't lose sight of what the wedding day is really all about. There will be plenty of traditional elements in ours too, but like our friends, we want the day to be a true reflection of what matters in our lives.