Don’t worry you wont be subjected to the inane ramblings of a 30 something woman who believes that the changing of the years can signify the momentous alteration in her core being. If this hasn’t happened so far, I highly doubt it’ll happen anytime soon. This post is quite literally about finding my feet. I’m on the precipice of 28 weeks pregnant and locating my extremities has become somewhat of a mission in its self. I’m 99% sure that i do in fact own a pair of feet but its been a good few weeks since I last had full contact with them. I have to bend to a 90 degree angle to be able to see them and when I actually achieve this the effort is rewarded by the sight of something not out of place in Charles Perrault’s gruesome tale of Cinderella.
Why is it when you long to look your best, its such an uphill struggle to achieve this. I’m bombarded with cashmere clad, messy bun hosting soon to be mums who ooze glamour and effortless beauty. I am blatantly a sucker and fall for this ideal every time, thus clicking the buy now button and purchasing said cashmere whatever in the benign belief that I will in fact become the woman I see on my tiny iPhone screen. As you might have guessed by my terminology this is of course unsuccessful and I am forced to drown my sorrows [not with alcohol because contrary to what I experienced with my first pregnancy, you should abstain fully from the liquid nectar of amnesia] by consuming vast quantities of the oversized 4.5kg toblerone I was kindly bought for christmas. This renders the quest to find my feet even harder as the veranda over the toy shop is currently going through a massive extension…
Here’s to 2018 being full of unsuppressed hopes and dreams and not having to go through the indignity of revealing ones horrifically narled, misshapen, discoloured feet to anyone of a nervous disposition. My motto as ever is ‘keep it safe, keep it hidden’ and lets hope to god that I’m able to reach my feet by this summer as there’s something supremely odd about a woman wearing shorts and hunter wellies if she is neither Claudia schiffer nor Bridget jones at Glasto or some such festival.
Wishing all my vintage lovelies a wonderful 2018. May it be all you hope for.
Featured image taken from Disney’s Cinderella.