Is that even an appropriate title? Too pretentious? Too cliched? Too Cabaret? Who knows. 

All that I do know is that I’m meant to be making my Big-Important-Very-Monumental-Utterly-Historic-Super-World-Changing-Debut-Post but have already succeeded in distracting myself from the task in hand by creating a thoroughly unoriginal debut title that does nothing but make me daydream about Alan Cumming strutting around in a corset and lipstick, and now I will probably spend the next 1-3 hours watching clips of  him adorably giggle and grin through his super chic eyewear on late night talk shows.

BESIDES! All that matters is that I am here! I made my first post. I broke the spell of procrastination, hesitation, uncertainty and *whispers* fear.

Hello, You.

I’ve spent six months going backwards and forwards and in circles on this. “It’ll be a fashion blog!” “It’ll be a body positivity project” “I’ll skip the blog and just write a best selling book!” (Ha!). And then what happened? Nothing happened. Nothing at all. It felt to big. I built it up too much. Too much pressure. Too far to fall. Which is utterly ridiculous. It’s just me and my personal project. I’m not Lena Dunham. I’m not Lorde. I’m not Lauren Hill trying to reunite the Fugees. It’s just me. The world is not waiting with bated breath for this blog. Though to be honest,  I think I’d quite enjoy the melodrama and free swag that would come with that much pressure and fame.

So anyway. This, here. This blog. THIS thing, that I’ve built up to such epic proportions in my head, it actually doesn’t need to be anything, other than what it naturally wants to be. Nothing more than I what I want it to be. Or, more importantly, what I can manage.

See, sometimes, out of nothing but best intentions for ourselves, we strive so high and make plans so big all we do is intimidate ourselves and put up our own roadblocks, setting ourselves up to fail before we’ve even begun. How very ridiculous.

Out of best, over achieving intentions, we make things so hard for ourselves. Women are the worst at this. It’s not our fault. We’ve been told over the past twenty years that we can and should do anything and everything. So we expect to be able to juggle homes, careers, families, partners, friends, hobbies, health, great hair, a pedigree but ethically sourced pet, creative fulfilment, a social life, hangovers, eating more than just toast and protein shakes, dating and still have time to sit the hell down and watch the Handmaid’s Tale.

My friends and I all sharing the same emotion to each other online, 11pm confessions of  “I JUST FEEL SO GUILTY ALL OF THE TIME”. Why do we do it to ourselves?

“I’m going to write five blog posts a week”

“I’m going to run a marathon”

“I’m cutting out all sugar, caffeine and carbs”

“I’m going to save 78% of my pay and stop buying anything unnecessary and live off lentil soup”

“I’m going to see all of my friends at least once a week”

“I’m going to take up the xylophone”

This much pressure would make a watermelon explode!

Maybe our motto should be ‘Aim lower’. Then we might not feel so much pressure, have fun, and get more done.

Womanhood often seems like it’s about feeling guilty 80% of the time. Let’s change that by taking the pressure off ourselves a bit.

So. Here we go.  I’m not labelling this blog. I’ve no targets for posting. No end game. No little genre box to fit into. No one to impress.  And it feels bloody lovely.

And because of that, I can go back to Mr. Cumming, guilt free…


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