A close up of three items hanging in a wardrobe. It's unclear what the items are but two seem to be satiny, one with a Japanese inspired floral pint and the other more of an abstract bird print. The iten in the middle is a sequinned dress with long fringing.
Thinking Out Loud

Fast Fashion Slow Blogging

Back in September I took the 30 day pledge and didn’t buy any new clothes for myself through the whole of the month. Oxfam’s Second Hand September campaign was about addressing fast fashion, reusing, rewearing and recycling rather than sending piles of clothes to landfill. I didn’t actually end up buy any clothes at all, second hand or not, and my main challenge with my own wardrobe is much loved stuff just not fitting anymore.

Why am I only blogging about this now? Two months late is a bit much even by my usual delayed standards. I did an Instagram post about it at the time but was reminded of it by the fabulous exhibition at National Museum Wales in Cardiff that’s been curated by their Youth Forum to run alongside Dippy on Tour, the UK’s most famous diplodocus skeleton cast. It’s in the temporary exhibitions space next to the gift shop until Dippy leaves at the en of January so you’ve got plenty of time to go and have a look. Not only have they curated a collection of items belonging to museum staff but they’ve also created some amazing creatures and scenes out of recycled clothes and bags with a focus on the impact of fast fashion on our precious planet. The dinosaurs didn’t see the end coming but we can do something about our own destruction of Earth. My boys loved the umbrella pterodactyl and I was blown away by the colour, quality and creativity. A big shout out to the lovely volunteer who showed some cool bones and fossils to us.

A display at the museum of a meteor model blasting into shop sale signs reading "Going Going Gone!"
One of the displays at the museum of the impact of fast fashion on our planet.

So back to the whole fast fashion thing. I have been guilty of stocking up in Primark, buying new for a treat but I’m also a big fan of buying second hand gear on eBay, there are some astonishing bargains to be found. I’ve bought from Oxfam’s online shop too (yes, that’s a thing). I’m a hoarder and I’ll rewear my old favourites on repeat. Some going out gear has been downgraded to day wear or work wear. If anything, I need to Konmari the heck out of my clothes. Yes, I still have cocktail dresses from uni (all found in the sales). When do they become vintage?!

Oxfam has shedloads of stats on the environmental impact of fast fashion, the exhibition at the museum is full of little nuggets of knowledge about it all too. I’ve cringed in the past reading some Instagram blurbs from fashion or mum blog influencers who spend obscene amounts of money on clothes under the guise of quality over quantity. I can’t afford to shop beyond the high street and even that’s a bit of a push for things like jeans and bras. What I’ve tried to do is think about versatility and timelessness, whether it sparks joy and fits me properly rather than because it’s the latest thing. I’ve never been into the throwaway bit of throwaway fashion because I can’t bear to part with clothes that I’m sentimental about.

Maybe it’s part of getting older but I don’t care if I’m not dressed like everyone else and I’ll keep on wearing it until it gets holes (and even then, if I really love it I’ll still wear it, who am I trying to kid?).

There were some pretty judgey comments on posts about the 30 day campaign, from people who couldn’t believe it was a struggle to avoid buying new for a month. I can’t afford to buy new every week but if I’m going out out there’s every chance tat I’ll have a trawl through ASOS. I have bought a ew dress this month but it’s not a one off outfit, I know I can use it for weddings or christenings as well as drinks out or a posh meal. I didn’t buy new shoes or bag to go with it, I know it’ll go with what I already have.

Four items of clothes hang. From letf to right: a pair of blue ripped jeans, a chambray long sleeved shirt, a rainbow woollen jumper and aspotty shirt dress.
One of my old Primark hauls. In my defence, these were bought in the summer of 2018 ,
they’re still regulars in my wardrobe and all are still in good condition.

 

Thinking Out Loud

The Summer of FOMO

This was my first summer holiday working full time with kids. We haven’t had the wholesome days out, the free days getting sandy on local beaches, the rainy messy crafting and baking. I’m not totally woe is me about it. Just a bit sad and full of FOMO. We had a week’s holiday at the end of August that we made the most of despite the weather and we’ve had some evening walks and jaunts while some of the usual hobbies and sports are on a hiatus.

Plus we do have a little more money. Not a lot but enough to stave off the usual empty purse panic.

I’ve not blogged in a millennia. My Instagram feels boring, impersonal and a bit blah. I think there’s a connection there. I didn’t start this up to just share photos, I have my own personal account for that. I started this off to share things to do and places to go, sure, but also to vent and be silly. The whole anonymous thing is doing my nut in and really doesn’t help. I’m toying with making my personal Instagram private and actually having my face in the Vale of Glam Mam stuff.

Haven’t fully thought it through yet.

What do you reckon? I’ve not come across many other anonymous parenting blogs so I’m wondering if maybe it’s not a thing for a reason. There is comfort in being anonymous when I’m dishing out the opinions but all my family and friends know it’s me so who am I hiding from really? 

Back to the FOMO and the lacklustre Instagramming. The connection is pretty clear, we’re doing less and making less. I’m not having the family experiences that I used to snap and share. Photos of my laptop make for crappy content. I’m not selling products or services, I can’t even do outfit shots because I’m still anonymous and besides, I wear the same few things on a rotation so I’m hardly #whatmamaworemonday fodder.

I guess I’ll just have to try getting a little more creative and remember to make the most of evenings and weekends, to stop being jealous of other people having a whale of a time and be a bit more grateful for what we can do.       

A poorly drunk lady is comforted by another lady in a Christmas jumper
Thinking Out Loud

Black Friday

Remember when Black Friday wasn’t about greedy people grabbing giant tellies in Tesco or incessant emails from every company you’ve ever bought anything from ever? Black Friday was about swarms of drunken office parties, boozy mates and students home from uni who descended upon Cardiff and Swansea for the last Friday piss up before Christmas with a pocketful of payday pounds.

Sandra from accounts pukes her Malibu and coke into a city centre shrub while Linda holds her sequinned Santa hat and wishes she’d got that taxi home with Boring Barbara. In the queue for Walkabout Kelly finally gets to snog Steve who lovingly buys her WKD blues for the rest of the night. Gareth regrettably punches Dave in the smoking area for something they’ll both forget. Sian and Louise giggle while they piss behind the Christmas market sheds. Matt goes the full show off with his street performance of the Macarena and Anna gorges herself on chicken curry half ‘n’ half as she sits on the curb of Chippy Lane bedecked in tinsel.

What are your Black Friday tales? I’m talking festive binge drinking yarns not that 25% you had off an electric drill in 2016.

 

Christmas revellers on the streets, Christmas lights in the background, a man dancing in the road and a woman sits on the curb.
photo from Wales Online
Thinking Out Loud

Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week #RealMotherhood

It’s Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week. This year’s theme is #RealMotherhood #NoShame and a reminder that getting real about motherhood is healthy for everyone.

I was first pregnant a decade ago and my youngest is 6 so maybe I’m too far removed from my own experience to be sharing it here but we all have a part to play. Supporting our friends, neighbours, colleagues and families is so important. It’s OK to not be OK.

I went to a friend’s wedding when my first baby was 2 weeks old and at the do I just remember feeling, how to describe it? Out of it? Woozy? Years later I tried explaining that I felt isolated, excluded, that everyone else was having a whale of a time and I was… I was content but not me. I was sober for a start! It was a scorching July day and I needed to breastfeed my shrimp of a child in the shade (because he might spontaneously combust in the sun, right?) so I ended up sat on my own in the shade of a marquee while everyone else basked in the sun. Jealously glancing over at friends drinking and laughing and looking fabulous, not the state I felt in flip flops because proper shoes didn’t fit my trotters and leggings under my dress because it wasn’t as boob accessible as I’d naively assumed when buying it. A mum of a friend came over and talked with me. She’s not someone I knew well but I was so thankful. She talked to me about my job, dance, all sorts. It felt like the first time someone saw through the fog and not some mother and baby package.  It wasn’t out of pity, it wasn’t patronising, she chatted away and listened, it was as simple as that.

Of course I loved my babies and of course they do take over but remember a mum of a newborn is more than a milk machine. She might be like a swan, looking serene and graceful on the surface but underneath she’s paddling away trying to stay afloat. She might be physically battered but she’s possibly mentally battered too.

With at least 1 in 10 mums developing a mental illness during pregnancy, or in the year that follows, it is so important to raise awareness of maternal mental health: tommys.org/maternalMHmatt…#MaternalMHMatter @TommysMidwives

I was fine, I am fine. Not everyone is. I had a wobble, I didn’t have a diagnosed maternal mental health condition. For every joyful #blessed #mama out there, remember that it’s not the same for everyone. My second time around was so much easier for me. No cabin fever, I felt more in control, I didn’t have nightmares about my newborn fading away into nothing which I didn’t tell anyone about because I knew it sounded worrying.

7 in 10 women will hide or underplay the severity of their perinatal mental illness #everyonesbusines everyonesbusiness.org.uk @MMHAlliance

Sometimes the best support is not trying to get someone to talk about their feelings but just being there. If they’re not ready for visitors, just send a hello by text. In those earliest of days the best visit was my mum bringing a Sunday roast around for us, making no demands to coo over the baby or cwtch her grandchild but being a practical help. It’s the offering to take the dogs for a walk, doing the ironing, making cups of tea instead of expecting to be waited on hand and foot. (Note to self: remember all this for when the new niblings arrive in the next couple of months.)

I set up this blog partly in response to the gazillions about babies and toddlers. Mine are older and my parenting experience isn’t about nappies and baby vom anymore but the pregnancy and the mad year that follows is so important and you don’t forget it.

As for #RealMotherhood I suppose I’m part of the problem. I tend to share photos of the lovely things we do, the brilliant places we go and on my personal social media their smiling faces. Should I be more real and photograph the tears and tantrums? I really don’t think it would have helped my 9 year old this morning if I’d snapped him in a grump and I’d feel the same.

Just take my word for it that for every photo of a wholesome daytrip we also have a Saturday morning watching cartoons and eating cereal. For every matchy matchy special occasion outfit that my boys wear there’s a mismatched set of pyjamas or school joggers with a hole in the bum (the 6 year old has done this to three (yes THREE) pairs of joggers this year). I’ll try to post some Instagram shots of my week’s chaos to give you a flavour of my real life.

If the content of this post has made you think of anything that has happened to you or someone you know and you feel upset, worried or uncomfortable then please visit Maternal Mental Health Alliance for a list of support services. I am not an expert in anything.

If you want to join in with the #RealMotherhood 5-day Challenge then just share your piccies and posts about the barefaced reality of motherhood. Warts and all. Keep it light and silly or use it as a chance to be truthful about your own experience. Let’s not judge ourselves by unrealistic standards.

 

#RealMotherhood #NoShame @TheBlueDotProject @MMHAlliance #everyonesbusiness #MaternalMHmatters

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thinking Out Loud

Wishing my life away

Anyone else feel like they’re wishing their life away? “Only one more term of this school year left to go.” Whaaaat?! I still think of ages in school years – if you were born between September 1982 and August 1983 then we are kindred spirits. Age, schmage, when did you do your GCSEs? Class of ’99 you are my people.

I don’t think I’m ready for 2018 yet and it’s well and truly underway. I can’t keep up with the politics (WT actual F are they thinking?) or the fashion (did you hear that the scrunchie is back? The bloody scrunchie!)

I’ve said before that I’m not into the whole “they grow too quick” rhetoric. I’m fine with my kids getting older and more independent, that’s cool. It’s the rest of the world I can’t handle. I’ve been in my “new” job for more than 3 years and I still think I’m the new girl. I was in uni for 3 years and that felt like a lifetime. In a good way.

On a positive note, I’ve embraced body positivity so I’m no longer wishing away weeks at a time with that “when I’ve lost a stone” type of thinking but I’m still clinging to the magical payday with “I’ll book those tickets at the end of the month” or “just a week to go until I buy those shoes.” I’m no Imelda Marcos, I’m not binging on a shoe flavoured shopping spree. I have holes in the soles of my leather boots, rips in the heels of my Primark hi-top daps and snapped laces in my other boots. 

Does time go faster as you get older? Maybe it’s because I’m flailing about with no major life marker in the year, no more children, no career change, no wedding, no big birthday. I’m sure there’s some motivational meme out there about enjoying each day. I do something every day that scares me (answering the phone, checking the front door’s locked at night, getting in lifts). Carpe diem and all that even if your boots are falling apart and time is going too fast.