I found that so profound at the time. But over the years I’ve forgotten that wisdom (or ignored it) and I’ve been quite happy living in my little jar with the lid firmly screwed on.

Maybe it’s having children that made me more risk adverse. Or the extreme covid lockdowns in Melbourne that left me traumatised. Or maybe being afraid of the unpredictability and instability of the world is an appropriate response to the times we’re living in?

But then I took this leap of faith (despite quite a lot of anxiety behind the scenes) and got on a plane without my kids and came to Paris. And oh my god - for the first time in years - maybe a decade, the lid on my jar has been blown straight off.

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Let me tell you about my 4th day in Paris and why it was so transformative.

Mum and I met with Irene Kim (김애린) (a woman, a mother, a writer and a fashion authority who I have admired from afar for a very long time.) She met us in our arrondissement and generously spent the morning wandering around with mum and I, taking us from shop to shop and showing us a more unfiltered and local view of shopping in Paris.

We visited a mix of French brands, vintage stores and designer concept stores. Some with the direct intent of purchasing, and some with the sole purpose of being in the presence of art. It was the latter that truly opened my eyes.

I feel like in Australia, the clothes that are generally available to us are all so functional. The best chance you have of finding something with personality and originality is through secondhand or vintage. Maybe that’s the same in other areas of France too, but in le Marais, the shops and boutiques are teeming with character and individuality. In some stores it’s actually hard to find the “easy to wear” pieces… or “easy to afford.” (Imagine me doing the emoji face with the really open eyes here!)

Now unfortunately, I have some bad news! Bad for the reader, good for my life experience: I was so immersed in the goodness of the morning that I didn’t take any photos and I didn’t write down the names of shops. Like I said on day one, I’m not writing a travel guide here, but I do feel terrible for being this bad at reporting.

So off the top of my head (and looking over my credit card statement) I will piece my memories back together for you and give you a super brief run down of each because I slept in and it’s breakfast time! The stores we visited, in no particular order, and maybe not the full extensive list were:

• The Frankie Shop - super cool, modern, wearable mix of smart and casual clothes. Lots of beautifully tailored interesting shirts, jackets, pants and blazers. Great fabrics.

• Merci - a concept store with home goods, nick-nacks, and clothes. The clothes were an interesting mix of brands, from Europe and the US. Personally I found the selection to be lovely but overpriced for what it was.

• Soeur - beautiful fabrics and clothes with sculptural elements that still felt fluid. A more neutral colour palette. Lots of asymmetric necklines, interesting pleats, button placements and draping.

• Loulou de Saison - the clothes in here felt too grown up and serious for me and my life. For some women they would probably just see clothes. But for me they felt boarder-line “event wear” - like if the event was having sophisticated drinks somewhere or mingling with other grown up adults.

• Paloma Wool - very simple designs in delicate fabrics - not suitable for my life.

• ITEMS - incredible concept store that sells mainly Ukrainian brands. A mix of jewellery and clothes and a small vintage selection. As per their website: find a variety of options always with the cool twist. Enjoy fashion!

• Gaijin - Japanese and Asian designer vintage.

• Dover Street Market - A concept store like no other. A multilevel store with concrete partitions so each brand has it’s own little nook - brands like Bottega, Phoebe Philo, Miu Miu, Prada, Comme de Garcons, Wales Bonner, cecilie bahnsen… and on and on and on. (This was a “look and get inspired” but don’t buy situation btw!

It was such an enjoyable and eye opening and mind expanding morning. This isn’t necessarily the advice I’d give my children, but to the adults reading this: if you ever have an opportunity to meet a stranger from the internet in real life: do it! I’ve never once been murdered and I have a lot of cool friends who I wouldn’t otherwise have in my life if I hadn’t taken that chance.

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Now, as for my style, the street style, and the amazing (AMAZING) food I ate, that will have to wait to be in the next instillment. It’s time for un café au lait d’avoine.

Jusqu’à la prochaine fois.

Bissous.

Today, I didn’t have to make any food, or dress any one other than myself. I didn’t have to fill in any school forms or follow up any appointments. I didn’t have to do anything. And I don’t want that to be my reality, genuinely, having things to do and people to care for gives my whole life a sense of purpose and fulfilment… But just for these few days the reality is: no matter how luxurious the accomodation (very) or how indulgent the shopping trips (very), the real present has been the gift of time.

Thanks to Eat Pray Love, I know that in Italian they call it “dolce far nient” the sweetness of doing nothing. But what do they call it in French? Because today we mastered it. No rushing, no schedules, no rules. We wandered to our nearest department store: La Samaritaine (where we also ate lunch on the 5th floor) and then wandered back home in time for dinner upstairs at Glou. (Becasue when Frosso says get a table by the window upstairs at Glou, that’s what you do. Merci Frosso x!)

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When Frosso’s latest newsletter landed in my inbox yesterday morning I was delighted to see that on top of the excellent street style coverage there was a restaurant recommendation that was only 600 meters from where we’re staying. To me that is a perfectly acceptable distance to walk on tired legs at the end of the day! And I’m so glad we did. The food tasted like modern French. Different from anything we’d get back at home but not the standard French fare you see on a lot of menus like Entrecôte or escargots. If you were waiting for a second opinion? Go.

Another shop I loved exploring (aside from la Samaritaine… which frankly was a little out of my price range but beautiful to drool over) was Rouje. In Australia, shops like Sèzane and Soeur have become known brand names… (but still not common) but I don’t think Rouje has reached that level of International recognition? It felt like walking into the coolest most French girls’ closet. Beautifully cut dresses. Lace detailing. Sheer mesh and lightweight knits. It’s exactly where I imagine the costuming department sourced the floaty sheer top Julie Delpy wears in Before Sunset. (A film I rewatched on the flight over just to get in the mood - IYKYK)

I ended up buying three things in Rouje. A dress, a top and a wrap cardigan (something that’s surprisingly hard to find!) I’ll be honest: the dress is very different for me, and I partially bought it because it’s going to get hotter here over the weekend and I don’t know that I’ll be able to sweat it out in the pants I bought with me! But also, I do love the idea of being the kind of person who wears a super feminine dress… so why not buy one that has a beautiful memory attached to it, and will hopefully be practical too?

Oh! And for those of you who know me personally, you might be wondering why I’m wearing white pants? Well… I took my white pants with me because I’m not travelling with children, and the verdicts in: I love them! Here’s what I wore for most of the day and then a quick change of my top and shoes (and a smaller bag) for dinner.

And now for what is becoming one of my personal highlights of the trip (aside from just enjoying my free time!)

Paris Street Style!

These were the top 5 outfits I could actually get my phone out in time for. Sadly, there’s a lot of incredible style going undocumented. Some of the best style I see is on the Parisians who cycle… and they just whiz by!

Are you starting to see a pattern here? Any time I see a trench my camera is out! Loved this navy trench with dark indigo jeans and canvas sneakers. So simple and so striking. Perfectly undone hair and a pushed up sleeve is the cherry on top.

Oh look! Sophie saw another trench! But what really caught my eye here was the beat up bucket bag and the white pants (because I was wearing white pants!) Paired with some messy braids, some gold boots and over ear headphones - this outfit spoke to my soul.

I loved the IDGAF attitude of this outfit. The slouch of the jeans and the tired old shoes. At a guess I would say that this woman was a young adult, and I just realised in Australia, teenagers all dress the same1. There’s an acceptable uniform that once you know what to look for you see it everywhere. This kind of personal expression would be very rare to see in Melbourne. And it was a great reminder to me personally that 1) the rules are: there are no rules 2) A great belt doesn’t have to have a designer logo on it 3) you can really wear as much jewellery as you want.

This shot is a little blurry because she was on a mission, but focus in and see the navy blue velvet loafers and the navy bandana scarf thrown over her shoulder. A base of all blue with a pop of burgundy is a formula I’m a particularly big fan of.

The preferred denim style over here definitely seems to be a straight baggy leg - but there is no preferred wash. I’ve seen it in all the hues and I personally loved the grey wash of these jeans with the black ballet flats, black knit and burgundy Ganni bag.

General musings:

• Emergency sirens say weeee-waaaaa

• There are rats in the gardens at sunset (and probably during the day time too!)

• There seems to be a lot of inefficiency in day to day life? That would drive me crazy in the long term. Every shop I go into, every interaction I have, it feels like I’m the first person ever to ask anything of someone. Or maybe my french is just so bad they literally have no idea what I’m asking for!? It could be a me thing, or it could be a French thing. Jurys out!

• A lot of the more boutique shops I’ve been into only have one size (usually Fr 34/ Aus 6) on display. So you often have to ask for your size to try. Which then leads to the person in the shop really looking at you, sometimes lifting up the hem of your top to look at your waist/ tummy to see if the size you’ve asked for is actually correct. It’s certainly a different experience! Maybe it would be the same in some shops in Australia if I was shopping there with a language barrier too? Just something I’ve noticed. Regardless, due to this system: shopping takes time and patience and in some cases bravery.

And that’s a wrap!

We have a fun day planned for day 4 - but alas, no spoilers! You’ll just have to check in tomorrow to see what we got up to.

À +2

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Our second day in Paris did not disappoint…. In fact, I gathered quite a lot of evidence to support this claim!

Below you will find:

• an early morning jog along the Seine

• my first purchase… and second… and third…

• the Musée Picasso

• a delicious lunch

• more excellent street style

Allons-y!

Starting with my morning jog. The plan was: keep it simple. Don’t overdo it. The execution: I didn’t keep it simple and I definitely over did it. HA. It wasn’t exactly my fault, the sky was so dreamy as the sun was rising over the Parisian rooftops. The Seine looked so beautiful you could swim in it (I mean, personally you couldn’t pay me enough money to get in it.. but it was looking beautiful.) And the city streets were empty aside from other runners and the bin men. It was a perfect way to start the day and I got carried away.

Luckily, it was Sunday morning, and what I’ve discovered is most things in Paris don’t open until 10:30am on a Sunday (if at all) so I had time on my side. After a quick shower and a slow petit déj (where the waiter laughed at me. I ordered a boiled egg - oeuf à la coque - and he asked me how many minutes I’d like it boiled for? Three? Four? and I said “Six?” and he laughed.) But sir, an egg cooked for 3 minutes is still a raw egg!

Anyway… full of my perfectly cooked 6 minute egg, we wandered off to the Musée Picasso.

The collection is incredible. It’s so much more interesting than I remembered. But alors, last time I was here was 20 years ago so of course it’s more interesting than I remembered! What I found really inspiring were these two things:

• He was not great at hands and feet. As an amateur artist myself, I can relate. And I find great comfort in this. Actually, I find great comfort in how much value we place in his art in general considering some of it is quite primitive. It reminded me that art is what we say it is, and you don’t have to be good at hands and feet to be a brilliant artist.

• His use of colour was exceptional. Not just his blue period or rose period, but throughout his catalogue of work he chose unexpected colour pairings, which I’m going to use as inspiration for some outfits when I get home.

I know I said journaling about restaurants is not my vibe, but gatekeeping is also not my vibe and this restaurant deserves to be shared. Located in le Marais at 25 rue Beautreillis Vin des Pyrenees is charming, perfectly french, modern and classic all at the same time. 10/10 for food and vibes.

If there’s one thing better than eating Duck and crème brûlée at lunch, it’s eating that and then going for a pressure free peruse of the shops. Unfortunately (I’m not sure if this is just a weekend thing, or an everyday thing) but some shops had queues out the front (like the Frankie Shop, Alohas and Repetto to name a few) and I currently don’t have the patience or energy for that. So I didn’t pop in there, but I did have success at Jimmy Fairly and Ba&sh.

Utterly obsessed with this “pull” I found at Ba&sh. A grey slouchy sweatshirt is one of those unicorn items to me. Seems so basic and yet, is so hard to find a good one. But I didn’t find a good one: I found the best one. The shoulder detailing and the embroidery? Chefs kiss. J’adore. Also, while I’m on the topic of things I love: these sunglasses from Jimmy Fairly are so cool. Extremely comfortable and light to wear, but substantial feeling at the same time. A style that is completely different from my usual - but I’m honestly tempted to go back and buy another pair too. The quality’s so good and they’re such a fun (and practical) souvenir.

And finally, a round up of my 5 favourite street style looks I was able to capture.

(And the outfit’s PLURAL that I wore)

This outfit caught my eye for two main reasons: Firstly, I love the colour of this dress - it’s not a pretty green, so it provides a beautiful contrast to the prettiness of the cut and pattern. And secondly, it doesn’t strike me as a trend driven outfit. I don’t look at her and instantly know what brand her shoes or dress are from, and how much they cost her, and I think that’s really refreshing - not to see an abundance of wealth signalling.

Speaking of wealth signalling… I mean, if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it with a beautiful Celine bag and matching Celine high top sneakers! I was surprised to see someone in leggings in Paris, but it was a Sunday morning and they were styled up with a beautiful long knit and some designer accessories so I think if leggings in public are going to be acceptable, it’s like this.

This to me, is the epitome of Sunday street style cool. The thing I’ve been noticing about the French women here is they love to wear a sneaker, but they wear a really specific kind. Usually colourful or patterned, and low profile over chunky (unless they’re Salomons) These van, with the light straight leg denim - a little flash of ankle, and a lightweight trench with perfectly rolled sleeves looked so good.

A burgundy corduroy shirt (corduroy is another trend I’ve been noticing as the French are preparing for autumn) and her bright yellow shoes are already a lovely colour combination, but it was the scarf tied around the bag strap that bought it all together that caught my eye.

And my personal favourite, because there’s something genuinely exciting (at least to me) about seeing a beautiful French woman walking around in patent black loafers. It’s like seeing a wild animal in their natural habitat. Paired with a black blazer, blue jeans and a burgundy bag? That’s my love language.

It’s hard to compete with the street style here, so my approach has never been to compete but to hopefully blend in. And luckily I had 3 opportunities to try my method. From left to right lets call it: dinner, lunch and breakfast!

Odds and ends I’ve noticed today:

There are a lot1 of wasps in Paris.

Jet lag feels like it’s plunged me into early perimenopause and it’s making me sweat all the time.

People take their young kids to museums and teach them about art and the etiquette of how to behave in museums (no touching, no loud noises etc.) In Australia, I don’t think we do this as much, unless there are specifically kid friendly activities at these places.

Some streets smell horrible early in the mornings (before the rubbish has been collected!)

Bread is served on the table with most meals, but no butter.

Thank you so much for joining me on day two of my adventure. I’d love to hear if you had a favourite outfit (and it doesn’t have to be one of mine!) or a highlight that jumped out for you.

Can’t wait to share what day 3 has in store!

À plus x

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Even though, as I sit and write this at 5:30 in the morning Paris time, I feel foggy headed and pretty jet-lagged, I can still think clearly enough to save you from all the boring details.

The only thing you need to know about that day of travel is that I chose my travel outfit well (and if you’re ever in doubt about what to pack: always pack a trench.)

Something you should know about me is I’ve been fortunate to travel quite a few times to quite a few places. The other thing you should know about me is I’ve never once been able to keep a travel journal.

I think because traditional travel journals expect you write down all the monuments you visited, subway lines you caught and meals you ate.. and quite frankly, that stuff doesn’t light me up. Don’t get me wrong! I’m very happy to see beautiful places and eat lovely things - but unless they are truly stand out events, I’m happy to not let them take up too much space in my mind or my journals!

(I am sharing that day to day stuff on my instagram reels though so you can follow along there if you like.)

The things that do light me up though? Fashion! Style! Art! People! So in the spirit of done is better than perfect, I’m going to use this space here as my loosey-goosey travel journal.

Not a comprehensive record of what we did.

Not a guide.

Not even necessarily a particularly coherent account of my day. Just a place for me to share little random moments from my day that I was fast enough to capture or interested enough to record.

Starting with: the 5 most fashionable French women I was able to sneakily photograph.

Obviously as a mum myself, I am always on the lookout for other mums who bring the goods. And let me tell you: these two mums ATE.

Utterly obsessed with everything about this outfit from the perfect bob all the way down to the red jellies. Tell me how masculine items end up looking so feminine? Is it the ankle length crop of the pants? Or the coloured bracelets that mirror the colours of her shirt? Whatever this witchcraft is: I want some for me.

I bet this woman who had taken her kids to the local park wasn’t thinking “Oh today I’m going to be featured in an Australian girls fashion substack.” And I can tell that she didn’t think that because nothing about this feels manufactured. This simple outfit caught my eye because the breton top was tucked so perfectly, the jeans were the exact right amount of slouched and wrinkled, and the sneakers were really cool and interesting while working in total harmony with the faded grey of the jeans and the off white of the striped long sleeve. Also: shout out to another perfect bob.

Ok. Did this catch my eye because it’s something I would 100% wear? Yes. But also a great reminder of how good a messy bun and a linen blazer with some rolled up sleeves can be.

As someone who isn’t personally a huge fan of skirts, or florals, I think I just found my exception. Oh mon dieu. This floral painted denim pencil skirt with the leopard ballet flats, are you even being serious right now? A black bag with brown shoes. A perfectly tucked and scrunched white long sleeve t-shirt. This WHOLE outfit is a masterclass in pattern and colour mixing without looking formulaic.

And maybe the best for last? Although how could you possibly choose a favourite? I’ll be honest, this outfit caught my eye because I have the same boots (I’ve never felt cooler by association than in this moment!) But once I got home and truly examined this look, I died. The barrel leg jeans tucked into the slouchy boots. The colour story of the blues and browns. The polka dot scarf tied into her messy hair. The long earrings and the slim square sunglasses. Woof. To be young and hot and French.

I’m almost (ALMOST) reluctant to share my outfits after these 5 incredible looks, but I liked them both and it’s my substack so I get to make the rules!

My new selfie spot in our accomodation! While mum took an afternoon nap, I insisted on pushing through the tiredness, so I wore basically what I’d been wearing for the whole 36 hours before (with one simple and necessary change of my tshirt) and went for a long slow walk around Le Marias, and over to Île de la Cité to see the beautiful (and decidedly NOT finished) Notre Dame.

A quick change before dinner. Did you know some restaurants don’t start serving until 7pm! To me that is SO late! I eat dinner at 5:30 with my kids, and I know that’s not cool to admit, but I love an early dinner. I also love an early bedtime and I love an early morning run. Guess as much as I’d love to be mistaken for French, ultimately my circadian rhythm will give me away (if my terrible French accent hadn’t already!)

And finally: here are just some random thoughts and observations I had from my first day in Paris:

• French men have RIZZ/ swag/ whatever you want to call it. Honestly, some of the best personal style I saw was on the men. Awesome bomber jackets, leather bags, cargo pants, pink jeans, long hair, blue earrings. (I’ll have to try and be faster with my camera beacuse…')

• French people walk fast!

• French people don’t seem to be bothered by the rain. Lots of totally soaked people just walking around, or cycling with their kids on the back of their bikes. I even saw one girl sitting outside a cafe, in the rain, smoking her cigarette and reading her book - as her book got wet. What an absolute baddie.

• People really will queue up to have a hot chocolate at Carette. (Don’t worry, I’m people too. I’ll report back!)

• Weekend style seems to be slouchy and undone - I’m wondering if that’s going to change once Monday rolls around?

And with that, I’ll sign off. The sky is starting to get a little bit lighter and I need to hatch a plan for my day. I hope you join me for the next 10 days too (btw: did you have a favourite street style look?)

À toute à l'heure!

x

When I say “start thinking” what I really mean is start consolidating my thoughts… because I’m never not thinking about what I would pack for a theoretical trip to Paris.

But the theoretical has become actual, and I leave in one week. (Eeeeeeeee!)

So what’s my packing plan?

Well, I can tell you what it’s not. I will not be following the sudoku method (although if that works for you, I love that for you!) And I won’t be following a capsule packing list either. I might base it off the one other time I’ve successfully packed for a holiday (which I wrote about here) but honestly, at this stage my method can only be described as Pure Chaos/ Vibes Based.

What’s the vibe?

Paris hardly needs an introduction. But for the purpose of this article let me provide some context. I’m travelling there with my mum for a girls only 10 day, child free romp (well, not totally child free: but this time, I’m the child.)

The plan is to sit on terraces and enjoy the views. Visit galleries and museums1 and shops and eat good food. Naturellement. Try to avoid scammers. Practice my rudimentary high school French. Soak in the history and the beauty, which, I’m sorry Australia: you just can’t even get close to in Melbourne. What do you mean our oldest building is 189 years old?2

So what am I going to pack to do those things?

FAR LESS than what I’m considering

Which so far I’ve managed to “narrow it down” to:

• 10 pairs of shoes … honestly, should I even continue?

• 4 pairs of travel pants (FOUR? I only have one set of legs. That’s spider packing.)

• 6 pairs of black pants (see point above.)

• 6 pairs of jeans (and AGAIN!)

OH LORD

• 5 bags

• 9 shirts/ blouses

• 5 camis/ vests…

The insane list goes on.

SAVE ME FROM MYSELF!

What is very clear to me is I have work to do.

So below I will share with you my process.

Step one: try on everything

Everything.

Everything with everything.

And then grab the accessories too. Need specific sunglasses or jewellery? Pull them out. Try them on.

Need to wear special underwear with any of the items? Pull it out.

Little shorts for under short dresses? Pull them out.

I don’t want to discover in Paris that the outfit I’ve agonised over (and to my mind perfected) requires a red lipstick and a strapless bra that I left at home.

Step two: fix and wash all the things

Cut out annoying labels and loose threads, and the little ribbon loops they put inside tops to make them hang easier in the store. Definitely cut the X stitching on the back vent of any jackets!

Check every collar for makeup stains, check every jumper for balls. I’m honestly shocked at how comfortable I am at putting slightly grubby clothes back into my wardrobe.

Need to add a hook and eye to a dress? Take it to the tailor3 (or even better, learn how to do it yourself!)

Need to put some topy on slippy soled shoes? Take them to the cobbler4.

Don’t give yourself jobs to do on holidays when you don’t have your resources at your fingertips. The aim here, despite it feeling pedantic at the time, is to arrive with a suitcase full of finished clothes. Ready to hit those cobblestone streets running.

Step three: Refine

For me my Index has been a blessing.

As much as I would love to dedicate my life to this task, so I could get it just right, I have a house to run and a family to keep alive.

So while I was doing the physical process of trying on all the clothes and all the combos, as things either passed the Paris test, or failed, I updated my “Paris packing list” in my Indyx app. That way, even when the physical clothes weren’t at my fingertips, I could quickly open up the app and make adjustments to my online wardrobe.

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There are a lot of great articles on what to pack and ways to optimise feeling great while travelling and on holidays (I was honoured to be asked to contribute to this post recently) but the thing I’m personally trying to focus on is feeling like myself. I don’t want to take advice that I wouldn’t necessarily follow in day to day life just because it’s written by people who travel more than me and I don’t want to pack a suitcase full of fantasy outfits (despite this being a bit of a fantasy trip.)

I suppose you could say my packing philosophy is that everything needs to earn its place. However, I don’t want to pack so many mix and match neutrals that I lose all personality. So, without boring you with my complete itemised packing list (that I have happily and successfully narrowed down from the list above) here are a few of the items I’m going to pack that pack a punch when paired back with my more simple basics (think denim or black pants)

At the end of the day I’ve learned that there’s nothing more polished and chic (gah! Is anyone else tapped out over that word now??) Than looking like you’re comfortable and being authentically you.

But just for shits and giggles: if you were going to Paris for a childfree romp: what would one of your packing non-negotiables be? As much as I’m happy with where I’ve landed… nothing is set in concrete until that bag is locked and checked!

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Despite feeling very glamorous and very extra, once I’d decided that the faux fur jacket was the thing I was wearing, the rest of the outfit somehow came together pretty easily.

But that doesn’t make for a very interesting read does it?

So instead of calling it a day and writing up the worlds shortest outfit recap, I decided that since I’d reached my three-outfit quota for the challenge I would give myself the rest of the week “off.” By off, I mean, no challenge item. No rules. No restraints. I could wear whatever I wanted.

And guess what happened…

PLOT TWIST

I felt paralysed by choice.

One day I ended up outfit repeating, and on another I basically semi-rotted in loungewear. Which is fine, obviously, but it did make me realise something I hadn’t expected when I started this challenge:

The constraint is actually helping me.

What started as a challenge to wear more of my (lets say “difficult”) clothes, has accidentally become an easier way of getting dressed.

It’s something that Kelly Williams and I chatted about very briefly in the comments section of her article here. She interestingly came to the same realisation, but from taking a completely different route. Saying:

“Piece repeating also reduces decision fatigue because you don’t have to start from scratch each morning; the biggest help for me. Honestly, sometimes we just need a place to start our outfit.”

(As I side note: I love when that happens! So often I’ll be marinating on an idea and then I’ll see it reflected back at me in one way or another and it’s like the universes way of saying: keep going! You’re onto something!)

So here’s where I’ve landed: Choosing one item each week, regardless of how extra or fun or dumb it is, gives me a clear jumping-off point when I get dressed. Instead of opening my wardrobe and thinking what do I feel like wearing today? I already have one decision made for me.

And from there, I can build.

It cuts down the time I spend agonising over what to wear, but somehow doesn’t make getting dressed feel less creative. If anything, having one thing to work around seems to make me more creative.

For anyone that’s worrying that my charming and haphazard type B personality is flying a little too close to the Type A sun, do not stress. I’m not saying I’m going to become the type of person who pre-plans a week’s worth of outfits any time soon. Or who whittles their wardrobe down to a capsule (that sounds both extremely organised and deeply unpleasant.) But I am saying, if you, like me, sometimes feel paralysed by choice in your own wardrobe, I would genuinely suggest picking just one item for the week and building your outfits around it. (I know a lot of very stylish and wonderful creators such as Rachel from Hey Mrs Solomon and Kerryn from Aura Personal Styling, pick a full theme or a rack for the week and swear by it!) But if that approach feels too overwhelming, give my approach a try.

The only rule is: once you pick it, there are no if’s, and’s or but’s. You pick it and then you commit to it.

It doesn’t have to be the most fun or interesting thing you own. It could be a pair of jeans, a jacket, or a particular pair of shoes.

But please, just choose one thing.

I promise it helps.

And if you do try it, tell me what your one thing is going to be in the comments. I want to know what your starting point is going to be (and if it works for you as well as it’s worked for me?)

I am, after all, nothing if not a cheerleader for you having more fun and less stress when it come to getting dressed.

Thank you for being here. x

Now, enough of the telling, it’s time for the showing!

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All the times I wore my faux fur jacket and the world didn’t spin off its axis:

To buy Cheeseymite scrolls

Ok - so the part of me that wants to be a Francophile is so embarrassed that I’m sharing this. What do you mean cheeseymite scorll? Well my friends, that is where the teenagers who work at Baker’s Delight take Vegemite and cheese and swirl it through dough and bake it into little rolls. Perfect for the school lunchbox. My son loves them… and I love any excuse to dress up when leaving the house! I felt like the sneakers and baggy jeans were the perfect way to subvert the luxuriousness of the jacket.

To do school pick up in the rain

One thing I’ve noticed about starting this style challenge in the winter is, no-one really blinks at the idea of wearing something “crazy” when it’s cold. There’s this understanding amongst us, it seems, that when it’s cold, anything goes. You need to wear two jackets? Fine. You need to wear all the clothes you own at once? Also reasonable. So compared to that, wearing a warm and cosy faux fur jacket on a cold wet day looked sensible and not that dumb at all.

To do a Zara return

I know what you’re thinking… if I’m returning something, why am I standing in a change room? Ok Sherlock. I did try on a bunch of clothes, but I’m happy? Sad? Not surprised? to report that nothing worked. What did work was my awesome outfit! A statement jacket + some modern shaped jeans + clean, minimalist ballet flats + a bit of a statement bag and pow! You’ve got yourself a solid outfit formula to repeat.

Now for the outfits I raw dogged.

Here’s the thing: I like this outfit a lot. What I don’t like, and what I’m reluctant to admit, is how long it took me to arrive at it. Maybe an hour? An hour of deep frustration. Trying things on, taking them off, walking around in a bra, getting hot, getting cold, feeling stressed every time my husband popped his head in to check on me and give me an “update on the time.” I KNOW THE TIME!!!! Anyway, our marriage survived and I made it to the family lunch on time.

In our family this jumper is our version of the “Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants” jeans. It was originally my brothers, but my sister in law, my mum, my husband and I all wear it and all swear it looks the best on us! I’ve tried to find more of them and haven’t been successful. Anyway, this outfit was comfy and I liked it, but only as much as I can like an outfit that’s based around sweatpants. In my heart of hearts, I know that I feel my best when I make more of an effort with my outfits.

So there we have it. Next weeks fun dumb clothing item is going to be a very hairy oversized jumper that has big David Rose energy. Or maybe it’s more Moira circa The Crows Have Eyes. Either way, I love it, (but it challenges me.)

Make sure you’re subscribed so you can be with me on this journey (which is kind of fun no?) and then definitely make sure you’re subscribed and following me because in under three weeks I’ll be putting my Fun Dumb challenge on pause while I travel to (and live/ eat/sleep/ dream all things:) Pairs with my mum for 10 days.

It’s going to be fantastique.

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I’d bumped into our friend Nick at the supermarket and he told me he was going gluten free. He was standing in the cereal isle looking bewildered and I asked him what was wrong. He said he was just trying to figure out what he’s allowed to eat now - so I suggested oats. Be a porridge guy! All the cool kids are doing it! But then he told me it was actually oats that made him decide to go gluten free1.

When I got home I asked my husband: “Are oats made out of wheat?” And he laughed and said, “no, oats are made out of oats.” and I shrugged and said, “oh. Ok.” and then he said: “God, I wish I had your confidence” and then I said “what do you mean?” and he said (read this in a kind way because thats how it was delivered) “If I asked a stupid question it would haunt me forever. I love that you can just put yourself out there and if you end up looking stupid you just shrug it off, like, no big deal, just asking a question” and that got me thinking: Is my ability to shrug shit off the reason why I can wear a floral embroidered jacket to school pick up? Do I have a superpower??!!

No. I do not. But I do believe I have something other’s don’t and that’s an unfounded amount of self confidence.

Genuinely, I only just learned that I’m 5”7. My whole adult life I thought I was 5”9 because once upon a time I heard that’s how tall supermodels are and I just assumed I was like them(?!) Until my other friend Nic (girl Nic) asked me: “how tall are you?” and I said CONFIDENTLY “5”9.” And she said: “no you’re not, I’m 5”9.”

?!?!?!?!?!

I mean, WHERE DOES THAT CONFIDENCE COME FROM?!

I’m sorry if I sound like a broken record, but I really believe that confidence (in adulthood!) comes from practice. Just like anything else in life that you want to get better at, you have to put in the work.

Maybe I was a plucky and confident kid2 (I think to a certain extent, they all are!) but as you get older, if you don’t use it, you lose it.

So this week, I used it.

I used my hard won confidence to try and pull off wearing a embroidered floral jacket as per the terms of my self imposed style challenge (which you can read about here) and, I’ll be honest, this was a hard one.

I love the jacket in theory. It’s fun and quirky and bright - almost cartoonish - in a way that my clothes don’t usually tend to be. But, just like I discussed here, the things I love about it are also the things that challenged me when it came to wearing it. A bright, floral, cartoonish jacket in the depths of winter felt like a bit of a hard sell. While everyone else was looking sensible (and BORING) in their black winter puffer jackets, I was working over time layering my thermals to make this jacket work.

Here’s the good news: with the right amount of thermals on, you can make a cotton jacket in winter work.

Here’s the other good news: I wore it, even though I felt kind of foolish, and my life didn’t change even a tiny bit.

Oh! Actually, that’s not true. My life did change a tiny bit: I grew a percentage more confident.

Maybe that’s the lesson I needed to learn this week? It’s not that having confidence means you’re going to get “it” right every time (outfits, asking questions, knowing your own height etc) It’s the security that comes from knowing you’ll survive getting it wrong.

Please join me as I walk you through this weeks wins and losses. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the jacket and as always I’m definitely open to hearing any styling ideas.

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All the times I wore my floral jacket and the world didn’t spin off its axis

So this was actually a big win. I was attending a floral themed paper collage workshop with my girlfriends and we didn’t HAVE to dress on theme, but not dressing on theme would have been a major missed opportunity.

I applied some of the lessons I’ve recently learnt and tried to match loud with loud. Somehow, pairing the jacket with red velvet ballet flats and a bright beanie, sort of diffused how full on the jacket is? Also I felt very scandi maximalist cool. Not a look I usually master.

For this special occasion (collecting take away) I decided to allow the jacket to be the single point of focus and have the rest of the outfit be more of a blank canvas. And blank is the operative word. I felt blank. It looked blank. This was not a win in my books.

So for this trip to the post office I decided to go back to my first strategy: try to diffuse the intensity by pairing it with other “intense” items. Great in theory but this execution felt off. The proportions didn’t do it for me… and neither did the colours. Was it a bad outfit? No, did it make me feel great? No. It was just clothes on my body.

Ultimately I guess that’s all getting dressed is. Everyday we just have to put SOMETHING on our bodies. It doesn’t have to be groundbreaking. It doesn’t have to be flattering. It doesn’t even have to make sense to anyone else. But I’m personally of the opinion that since we have to do it: we might as well enjoy it.

So I’ll continue with this “wearing Fun Dumb items from my wardrobe” challenge. And I’ll keep practicing being confident even when I feel silly. And I’ll keep trying to learn more about myself in the process. I just hope my next feature item is more Fun than Dumb.

Please help me decide:

Thank you so much for reading Sophie’s Obsessed. It is so incredible to me that there are over 500 people subscribed to this substack. And I know for some people, that may not seem huge, but to me: it’s huge. It’s a privilege to get to sit down each week and write it for you guys. So thank you for following along on this journey.

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No one is going to save you.

If it sounds dramatic, it IS dramatic. But let me explain. No one is going to hand you a gold star for working yourself into the ground. No one is going to look at you and see how depleted and drained you are and book a holiday for you. No-one is going to see all the extra effort you go to and hand you a thank you present.

What they’re going to do is look at you and think “Great. She can handle more.”

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And so more gets piled on, and you get more drained, and exhausted, and resentful.

I don’t want to stereotype but this feels like a pretty uniquely female experience. (That’s where the resentment comes in for me personally.)

So what do we do?

WE HAVE TO SAVE OURSELVES!

We have to give ourselves the gold star, the present, and the rest. We have to carve it out for ourselves, put it in our calendars, and sometimes, add it to our shopping carts.

And that’s exactly what I’ve done this week.

I am a full time stay at home mum, which in this economy is a HUGE privilege, but there are a few drawbacks:

• No time off

• No end of year bonus

• No monetary value (at all) placed on the work that I do

• No general recognition in society at large that being a full time mum IS IN FACT a full time job.

Generally speaking, my co-workers are cool. But this past week my tiny boss has been sick, and it’s resulted in me working around the clock. Sleeping in her room listing to her cough and choke on phlegm all night long. Contact naps during the day (they hit different when the “baby” is 21kgs) Constant stress over how little she’s eaten. Taking showers together. Reading endless facts about sharks. Watching endless episodes of Bluey. Dragging her to the doctors, twice. On top of still running the house. Making sure the school uniform is clean each day and there’s food for lunchboxes. Getting dinner sorted for everyone each night. Keeping the space clean and tidy. Truly, the list is incredibly mundane, and incredibly long.

So here’s a quick list of ways that I have used and will use again to save myself. If you need someone to remind you to take something for yourself, here I am: TELLING YOU - Girl! Put that oxygen mask over your own face first.

Little disclaimer before I dive into this list: 1) This list is probably most relevant for mums with small-ish kids, but not exclusively so. 2) A lot of the ways I’ve learned to cope in this modern world involve spending money. I don’t have much of a network or “village” to call on in times of need, so I tend to throw money at the problem. Its up to you to make the call if you want to ease some of your misery or be the richest woman in the graveyard.

1. ADD TO CART

If you think I’m above an impulse shop to boost the dopamine, I am not. Buy something that makes you smile. After I made a whole post about how I’m in no rush to fill the space I’d created from doing my wardrobe clear out, I spent my entire budget for July in one day. I’m not going to justify each purchase to you, or plead my case - mainly because I have no justification. I was exhausted. I was hating my reality. I thought buying bright fun clothes would equate to living a bright fun life (And once I’m through this tough phase I truly believe it will.) But I’m sharing it here to show you - we all do it. Maybe not as aggressively as I did it… but… We all buy things impulsively, and for the dopamine, and if you occasionally wake up to confirmation e-mails after a hazy sleep deprived night, you’re not alone.

2. FOOD IS FOOD

Breakfast for dinner is completely acceptable. So is food from the freezer. Some of my son’s favourite meals are probably the ones that are my smoke signal to the world that I’m barely hanging on: scrambled eggs on toast. Fish fingers on a bowl of microwave rice. Weetbix piled with yogurt and honey and banana.

3. OUTSOURCE THE SAUCE

Pay extra to get your groceries delivered. I know this isn’t revolutionary, but for a perfectionist with control issues (read: anxiety) I personally hate letting other people select my groceries. I want to be the one to select the exact right capsicum1. Except, not really. I don’t love spending hours of my life at the supermarket, pushing a trolly around the same brightly lit isles, wondering “what else is food?” As I buy the same shit I did two days before.

4. DINNER’S SERVED

In the same vein of paying for your groceries to be delivered, allow yourself to order takeaway on a week night if you need to.

5. TAP IN TO TAP OUT

Tap in your trusted people. My husband can’t really lighten the load for me Monday - Friday, because he’s got work, and he works late most nights. So on the days where he can, I tag him in. Over the years (perhaps my whole existence?) I’ve been conditioned to prioritise his (men’s) happiness and rest above my own. But let me just reiterate this for you, no-one has been conditioned to do the same for me. So I say to him: Babe, I’m tapping out.

Another great source of support has been my mum friends. I hate asking them for favours though because they’re all drowning in their own version of modern motherhood… but if I’m desperate, I know I’ve got some girls who have got my back.

6. I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

Noise cancelling headphones. Between the hours of 4:30 - 5:30 mummy puts her headphones in and listens to her own music as she cooks dinner. The kids can watch TV (for any Aussie readers, I pray that you don’t have to suffer through the squealing of GG Spawn Squad as much as I do) or they can fight with each other, or they can stomp around and dance or build pillow forts and I don’t have to hear a thing. (Obviously I can still hear if something is truly wrong.)

7. JOY TIME

And finally, once you’ve carved some time out for yourself, fill that time joyfully. Maybe with exercise (those endorphins really do wonders) Maybe with some time in nature (gosh, can you hear that? It’s the sound of no 4 year olds coughing.) Maybe with some friends (nothing is as healing as laughter) A hair cut (truly a miracle cure) A massage or pedicure. There are unlimited options for a woman with some spare time and a little bit of cash. And believe me, no one is more efficient than a woman who has an hour to herself.

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The point I guess I’m making (and I’m now going to try and clumsily link it to my Fun Dumb clothes challenge - you can read more about it here) is that some weeks are really hard, and there is no one big magical fix that will stop it from being really hard.

But there are lots of little things you can do to make it feel slightly easier.

When Phoebe got sick last week, I knew I was going to have a challenging week. Lots of time spent at home, not a huge amount of adult interaction, and a week spent generally putting my own needs at the bottom of the list.

So when it came to nominating a Fun Dumb item from my wardrobe to spotlight, I had to consider: what’s something that fits that category but is also realistic for the week I was heading into. That’s how I landed on my fluffy slides.

The verdict is (because I know this is getting quite long!) They were a great choice. Not because they magically made having a sick kid at home all week feel fun (they didn’t.) But because they made me feel a little more special, and my outfits felt a little more considered.

Wearing them felt like I’d done something nice for myself AND they unexpectedly removed one tiny (but sometimes quite annoying) decision from my day.

Having one joyful thing pre-selected, that I could automatically reach for felt... surprisingly helpful.

Which just reinforces my point! Sometimes saving yourself isn’t big and dramatic. Sometimes it’s wearing fluffy shoes and eating burgers for dinner.

In my heart of hearts, I hope reading this article has been a massive waste of your time! I hope you’re so supported by your village, and your nervous system is so regulated that you don’t need a strange woman from the internet telling you to wear hobbit shoes and to eat frozen meals. But! If you’re experiences look a little more like mine - firstly, hello! Secondly: Is there anything small or big you’ve been doing to save your sanity (lets use the comments section to share any extra life hacks!) and Thirdly, please like, or comment, or restack or share. It means so much to me. X

All the times I wore fluffy shoes and the world didn’t spin off its axis

1. Fluffy shoes kept my feet warm, during a mid afternoon cuddle and snooze.

2. Fluffy shoes made taking the bins out feel more elegant.

3. Fluffy shoes made school pick up cosy - plus it was pyjama day so it looked like I was dressing on theme. Win/win.

And finally, you thought we were done here, but we are not! The next Fun Dumb item to be highlighted from my wardrobe will be….

My new floral Zara jacket. It’s going to be a fun one!

…but I didn’t want people to see me.

Which surprised me.

I like running. (I did end up going, by the way. It was completely fine. I’m pretty sure no-one even looked at me.)

But it made me realise something.

I don’t see a lot of women my age out running. Now, there’s probably a huge raft of legitimate reasons for that: maybe it’s because running is hard on your knees and your hips and your back. Women over 40 are shouted at online that if you do cardio you’ll become “skinny fat.” There’s the very real fear for your personal safety. If you’ve had babies, running might actually make you wet yourself. Priorities change. Winter’s a slog. That’s all true.

But it also makes me wonder if there’s something else at play too… I wonder, if like me, other women my age have crossed the invisible line where being seen (especially running) has started to feel uncomfortable. Or maybe for some women, being seen has ALWAYS felt uncomfortable, and I’m one of the lucky ones?

Here’s what’s been happening for me, and maybe you can relate too? The shorts that I’ve always run in, are now feeling very short, and very tight. I feel like I’m running in an adult diaper (maybe not such a bad thing if you happen to suffer from the above mentioned incontinence issues) Then I start to think about my arms: do I want to be showing them? Then I think about the way my top clings to my tummy…

Before you know it, I’m not avoiding the run because I don’t like running, I’m avoiding the run because I don’t like being seen running.

I know this concept isn’t unique to exercise. As women we spend a huge portion of our lives contorting and punishing ourselves into taking up less space. Not just trying to be thinner, although that has always been a low hum in the background for anyone born in the 80’s/ 90’s I’m guessing? But we also spend our energy (or whatever energy we’ve got left from our over exercised, calorie restricted bodies) wondering whether people think we’re trying too hard. Trying to look too young. Trying to look too cool. Trying to be fashionable. Trying to be sexy. Trying to be one of a bazillion things we’ve apparently aged out of being allowed to be.

But then I had another thought.

If I stop running now because I feel self-conscious in this body… what are the chances I’m suddenly going to feel more confident getting back into it in a body that’s five, ten or twenty years older?

Probably not very high.

And that’s exactly how I’m starting to think about this Dumb Fun style challenge. Maybe what I’m actually doing every week isn’t practising style. I’m practising visibility.

In my last article I half joked about the benefits of my new Wearing Fun Dumb Things style challenge being: it’ll encourage me to wear more of the clothes I love and maybe, if I’m lucky, it’ll become a viral sensation hahahah. But actually, the benefit is: I’m putting in the practice now, so that hopefully wearing the silly, expensive, special, weird, attention seeking thing becomes a muscle memory.

I want to become so comfortable taking up space that when I get to the threshold that tells me I’m too old to run outside, or too old to wear my hair long, or too old to wear trendy sneakers - I’m so in the habit of it, that I physically can’t stop myself from doing it. I can’t stop myself from being me.

And I want that for you too.

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Before we dive in to the recap of how I took up space in my Fun Dumb shoes, next week’s style challenge item will be… another pair of really comfortable ugly dumb shoes (turns out, that’s not one of my wardrobe gaps!) I didn’t want to do a back to back shoe focus, but the reality is my daughter is sick with a tummy bug - and it might make it’s way through the whole family. I need to be prepared. So these fluffy Malene Birger slides will be perfect for a lot of hanging out around the house but will also make me feel a little bit happier as I scrub vomit out of the bed sheets.

Now, please join me as I recap my week of wearing the “shoe of the summer” (but it’s winter here) the Nike Air Rifts.

All the times I wore my Air Rifts and the world didn’t spin off its axis

The Brief: Drink coffee with my friend at her house

The Approach: I wanted to wear something relaxed and cosy, in a colour palette that paired harmoniously with the burgundy. I thought about the texture (shiny shoe vs fluffy knit) proportions (sleeves pushed up, knit tucked, jeans long and baggy etc) and the Tibi colour wheel (ring 2: navy/ ring 3: burgundy/ ring 4: hot pink)

The Verdict: Look compared to my girlfriends Ugg boots, I was overdressed. It didn’t bother me though, because I want her to wear whatever she likes in the comfort of her own house (and I take it as a compliment to our friendship that she doesn’t feel the need to put on any kind of performance for me) and I’ll just keep doing me.

The Brief: Go to the supermarket for the 30th time this week

The Approach: Baggy jeans and a tighter thermal top from uniqlo (I truly live in these tops in winter) all bought together with a sporty sandwich. Wearing a varsity jacket from my husbands side of the wardrobe and these shoes which aren’t sporty… but they’re not, not sporty either.

The Verdict: Firstly, this bomber jacket made me reconsider why I buy anything in the women’s section. It hangs so well. Secondly, another great colour story.

Who knew these little burgundy hooves were going to be so versatile and practical?

The Brief: School pick up

The Approach: Double denim with accents of navy, grey and burgundy. A classic colour combo in a more modern interpretation. In a new to me twist, I wore my knit sweater under my denim shirt. Normally I’m team shirts under sweaters… but I guess these shoes have got me living on the edge now.

The Verdict: Totally functional. Comfortable, practical. Yes it was cold enough for a knitted hat. No, my son NEVER wears pants.

The Brief: Visit my happy place (the shops)

The Approach: I’ve enjoyed making a crazy sandwich recently. Pairing something exciting on top, with the strange shoes and grounding it all with something chill in the middle. So far (and I’m sure I’ll soon eat my words) the concept hasn’t failed me.

The Verdict: I felt amazing in this. I wasn’t sure when I bought this blazer, how much wear it was going to get, so wearing it to the shops not only worked with helping me wear the shoes, but also gave me more ideas on how I could play with the blazer and get more wear out of it too.

If you had a favourite look from the week I’d love to hear which one. And/ or if you have a pair of Air Rifts, I’d love to know how you wear yours! And lastly, if you’re enjoying this series please give it a little like or share it with anyone else you think might benefit from reading about this style journey/ challenge.

I’m so grateful you’re here.

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For anyone who didn’t get a chance to read my last Substack article (you can find it here) The elevator pitch is: I created a new style challenge for myself. It’s a weekly challenge where I stop saving my favourite (but usually silly and impractical… aka Fun Dumb) clothes for my imaginary life and start wearing them in my real life. Each week I’ll choose one neglected Fun Dumb item and make myself wear it, in real life, at least 3 times.

And then I’ll report back here!

The benefit of this challenge to me is it motivates me and emboldens me to experiment with and wear more of the clothes that I love. The benefit for you? Maybe at worst, it’ll inspire you to reach into your closet and play with some of your loved but neglected clothes… and at best, it will become a VIRAL SENSATION and launch me into the fashion history books create a generation of women who love their clothes and wear them fearlessly.

(No pressure!)

But before I show you my receipts from the week - featuring one very fun (and only a little bit dumb) fringed blazer - a quick story!

When I was pregnant with my eldest, I spent a lot of time reading parenting books and on parenting forums (we all know this is code for watching Instagram parenting reels right?) and one day I came across something that said:

“The thing you love most about your partner is the thing you’re going to hate most about them as a parent.”

Woah! Hate? I could never hate Andy’s sense of fun.

Hahahahaha.

Dear reader, I absolutely could.

Once we had our beautiful baby, every meal, every nappy change, every outfit change (and with babies… there’s a lot) it was a chance for fun. Our son wouldn’t get dressed unless we sat him on a blanket and dragged him up and down the hallway stopping at different “clothes stations” on the “getting dressed express.” (There was nothing express about this specific nightmare situation.) And do you think I was the one that made getting dressed for a 2 year old SO FUN. No. I was not. The amount of times I said to my husband Andy: Not everything has to be a game!!!

The point is, the very thing I love(d) about Andy, his playfulness, and his capacity for fun, became the thing that drove me crazy.

Guess what? The same thing applies to my Fun Dumb clothes.

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As I was coming up with ways to wear my fringed blazer, I realised the things I love about it (the movement, the texture, the personality) are also the exact reasons I find it difficult to wear.

I buy bold clothes because I like bold clothes. That’s pretty obvious. The thing that I was surprised to realise is after I buy the bold item in question I then use a lot of energy trying to figure out how to make it less bold.

I always told myself pairing things with blue jeans or a white t-shirt was an easy way to ground a more exciting item. I thought I was creating balance. If something is loud, then the common styling advice is pair it with a sartorial whisper.

However, what if… hear me out, even if I CAN tone down a statement item, like a fringed blazer, I tried simply letting the blazer do what I bought it to do?

I didn’t buy it so I could blend in, I bought it because it makes me smile, and feel powerful and a little bit sexy. I bought it because wearing it is joyful.

Baby, I bought this blazer so I could swish!

I don’t want to spend my energy trying to edit out the very qualities I’d fallen in love with, and you guys - I don’t want to do that to my husband1 or myself either.

So in a huge turn of events, which if you read this newsletter regularly you probably saw coming: this post isn’t even really about the blazer, its a quick note from me to you to remind you not to edit out the most unique parts of yourself. Don’t shrink. Don’t apologise for taking up space. Don’t try to be easier to digest.

Just go out there and swish.

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All the times I wore my blazer and the world didn’t spin off its axis:

The brief: A school holidays day with both kids, hitting up the indoor play centre, the cinema and the playground.

The approach: I did the thing I just said not to do, I tried to tone the blazer down. I paired it back with a simple colour pallet and basic and functional items like baggy jeans and sneakers.

The verdict: you can absolutely wear a fringed blazer to a play centre.

The brief: Go and collect the Friday night takeaway (and kinder pick up)

The approach: Sticking to rings 1, 2, & 3 (a la the tibi colour wheel) - I wanted to find a visually harmonious and balanced way to wear my jacket and my new Nike Air Rifts.

The verdict: I feel like pairing crazy (jacket) with crazy (shoes) made a great visual sandwich. It almost felt like a waste just wearing this to collect takeaway, but then I remembered - that’s the point of this challenge. Wear the “good” things in real life.

The brief: We took the family to see the live performance of Bluey at the theatre. (And yes, I cried.)

The approach: I wanted an outfit that was smart and stylish and comfortable. I chose easy broken in second-hand jeans, a soft cashmere knit, and very comfy slouchy boots.

The verdict: I didn’t want to be in a room full of parents and look like a delusional part time mum/ full time fashion victim. Too much fringe, not enough snotty snail trails. Weirdly: wearing this jacket at the play centre felt playful. Wearing the same jacket to the children’s theatre felt performative.

The brief: A belated birthday lunch with my girlfriends (and then a quick pitstop at Chemist Warehouse for some kids nurofen and some shoe insoles)

The approach: A fancy lunch calls for a fancy outfit. There’s no denying that a fringe blazer leans fancy, but it also leans western. Without wanting to lean too far into costume territory, it was such a good opportunity to pair it with some western inspired boots, some classic cut jeans and a suede and studded bag.

The verdict: This was by far my favourite version of wearing the blazer. It felt like the rest of the outfit rose to the level of drama of the blazer and the whole thing was in harmony. 10/10

So my take away from this week is: pairing drama with drama felt more comfortable than trying to tone down the drama. Perhaps that’s something I can experiment with more as I approach my life… I mean, my next challenge item… drumroll please…

My Nike Air Rifts!

If you had a favourite blazer look, or a look that you feel inspired to recreate, let me know in the comments! Also, if you have something you love in your own wardrobe that you’ve been struggling to style or wear, let me know. Maybe I have a similar item and we can workshop it together.

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Thank you so much for reading Sophie’s Obsessed. If you like this new series and want to see more each week, please let me know by giving the love heart a little click, or leave a comment, or subscribe.

Then I realised...

I don’t actually have the answers to that. Like: at all.

In fact, when I look back over my recent wardrobe additions, I can really only think of two purchases I’d confidently describe as genuine wardrobe problem solvers. (For anyone interested: my Uniqlo trench and my Tony Bianco ankle boots.)

Everything else falls somewhere under the category of “Fun and Dumb.”

But before I get into that further, I want to talk about how I think I got here.

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I think the problem started when I first heard someone say:

“If you can style it five different ways, you can buy it.”

For an average person, this is probably very solid advice. But for me? Well… I’m the kind of person who loves shopping and styling clothes. It’s the first thing I look at when I check my phone in the morning. It’s how I unwind at night. In short: styling is my happy place.

Let’s take a sequin skirt for example, with the help of my trusty friend Pinterest, I was able to come up with 5 different ways to style one in under 5 minutes.

The problem is, I’ve now taken the above exercise as PROOF. And it is proof in some ways. It’s proof that I enjoy solving styling problems. It is NOT proof that I’d wear it, or that it suits my lifestyle, or that it would be a good purchase.

And if you’re reading fashion newsletters for fun, and saving outfit inspiration on Pinterest, and voluntarily consuming styling content in your spare time... the “can you style it 5 ways” rule probably isn’t for you either.

Because like me, you’ve trained your brain to see possibilities everywhere.

The better I’ve become at styling… or actually, the more immersed I’ve become in the whole world of fashion (through obvious things like Substack, and instagram and pinterest, but also through magazines, and shopping, and travel and visiting art galleries) the less useful the “can you style it 5 ways” advice has become. My brain simply doesn’t look at clothes and think “will I wear this?” It looks at them and thinks: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED (in a demon voice.)

The more Fun and Dumb the better.

So I buy the weird thing, and I add it to my Indyx, and I play around with it and convince myself I’ve made a brilliant and unique purchase. Except I haven’t. Because styling something in my virtual closet is not the same as wearing it.

Which leaves me in an interesting position. I need to be clear: I don’t regret buying Fun Dumb clothes, because I really feel like they make up a big part of who I am. They’re also a big part in why getting dressed feels playful and fun. But they (obviously) deserve to be worn.

So I’ve decided to come up with an experiment, or a new clothing challenge for myself, if you will.

Every week (for who know’s how long…) I’m going to choose one Fun DumbTM item from my wardrobe. And my mission? Wear it three different times that week. Not style it. Wear it. To the supermarket, to the playground, to school drop off, to where ever I happen to go in my real life. And I have to take a photo as evidence!

I’ll try to do a recap each week so we can all enjoy the Fun Dumb stuff I’ve purchased over the years.

If you’d like to take a look inside my wardrobe you can find the digitised version of it here on Indyx (please feel free to style a look for me and help me with my challenge.)

The item I’m nominating as my first Fun Dumb item of the series is… drumroll please… my fringed Blanca jacket.

Check back in next week to see how I went.

Wish me luck!

Love you!

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I was at one of these conferences when the speaker (I wish I could remember who it was!) said something that has stuck with me all these years later. She said - I’ll have to paraphrase - “Don’t ask someone who’s never done it, whether they think it’ll work.”

At the time she was talking about entrepreneurship. Highlighting how pointless, at best, and crazy, at worst, it is to ask someone who has never started a business whether they think your approach to starting a business is any good. Most likely, the advice you’ll get back is: it’s risky. You need to be careful. Be prepared for it to be a failure.

That’s because they’re filtering your ideas and decisions through their comfort zone.

And guess what… ha ha! It’s doesn’t just apply to entrepreneurship, it also (OFC) applies to style.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty natural to want advice, or feedback, or opinions when you’re shopping. You text a photo to your friend, or mum or sister and say: “what do you think?” which, I guess on the surface, is a totally reasonable question to ask.

But underneath the surface, a lot of the time, we’re not actually asking “what do you think?” We’re asking “can I?”

• Can I wear this?

• Can I spend this much?

• Can I stand out?

• Can I pull off leopard print/ sequins/ lace/ leather etc?

• Can I take up space

• Can I be seen?

And this is where the real vulnerability of the question comes in, because buying clothes is actually really easy, the hard part is giving yourself permission to become the sort of person who wears them.

For example, imagine you’re out shopping and you find some fun rhinestone studded pinstripe pants. (An oddly specific example for reasons that will become obvious) The practical objections are clear:

• They’re expensive

• You already own pinstripe pants

• They’re not neutral

But the truth is, those aren’t the real issues. The real issue is rhinestone studded pants are visible. People will definitely notice them. Some people might even have opinions about them. So suddenly the question isn’t: “should I buy these pants?” The question is “am I allowed to be the kind of woman who wears rhinestone pants?”

Sometimes I think I ask other peoples opinions because I’m hoping someone will make the decision for me. If someone else signs off on them, then it’s not entirely my “fault” if other people don’t like them. It’s a way of outsourcing responsibility. If the pants are a disaster and everyone laughs at me, well… my friend told me to.

But if I buy them because I love them? Then I’m exposed. Then I have to own the decision. Then I have to trust myself.

I suppose what I’m getting to is there’s a difference between permission and approval. Approval is external, and permission is internal. Now this doesn’t mean that I never ask for advice, I absolutely do! In fact, my best friend Kez has probably encouraged and discouraged more purchases than anyone else in my life. But the reason I trust her isn’t because she tells me what to do, instead she asks me (some pretty irritating - Sorry Kez!) questions. Things like:

Where are you going to wear it?

Do you own something that serves the same purpose?

Can you style it 5 different ways?

If it wasn’t on sale, would you still want it?

The key here isn’t that she’s giving me the answer (I mean, she know’s I’m probably going to buy it) she’s giving me tools to think more critically for myself. She helps take the emotion and impulsivity out of the purchase and challenges me to fight my corner. And every time we have a debate over whether she thinks a pinstripe suit is a good investment for a stay at home mum (FYI: she doesn’t, but I do!) I learn to back myself a little bit more.

If we keep looking outside of ourselves for approval, we’ll never fully find our personal style. We’ll just have a wishy-washy closet full of clothes that other people liked. But if we give ourselves permission (to try, to fail, to look silly, to change our mind, to evolve, to take up space, to disagree with our friends even though they’re smart and stylish) then over time we’ll learn to trust ourselves more.

Because ultimately, there is nobody else living in your body except you. And nobody is spending your money. And nobody else is wearing your clothes. And nobody else should get to decide how visible you’re allowed to be.

So if you love something and you’re waiting for someone else to sign your permission slip…

I’d love to gently encourage you to sign it yourself.

X

(Not only did I give myself permission to buy rhinestone studded pinstripe pants… I also gave myself permission to get the matching jacket too!)

Thank you so much for reading! Please like, comment or share this post to help it get seen by others who need the encouragement too. Your support means so much to me.

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A few weeks ago I looked at my wardrobe and I felt the overwhelming urge to get rid of at least half of it. All of a sudden holding onto things that didn’t fit quite right (physically or metaphorically) felt like a weight I just didn’t want to carry anymore. Especially not as I enter this new decade.

I felt like I was the snake, and it was time to shed my skin.

So I made a mental list:

• Anything that carried a negative memory or bad juju: Gone.

• Anything that required an unreasonable amount of fussing or coordinating to make it work: Gone

• Anything that still had tags on it after years of being in my closet: Gone.

• Anything that was a less good version of something else I own and love: Gone.

• Anything that was uncomfortable: Gone.

• Anything that made me feel bad about, or within myself: GTFO Gone.

I was ruthless.

Now, if you know me, you’ll know I don’t make a habit out of being wasteful. I try to buy considered purchases, shop thoughtfully, and move things on responsibly.

But you’ll also notice this isn’t a list for stained or ratty or ruined clothes. This is a list for perfectly wearable clothes and as I type this I can hear how fortunate I am to be in a position to Marie Kondo my way through such a privileged mid-life crisis. It’s very easy to get rid of clothes that, for lack of a better phrase, don’t “spark joy” when you never doubt that you’ll be able to replace them or acquire new clothes in the future. That’s not lost on me.

But that’s also where this wardrobe clear out feels different.

Usually after the purge comes the fun bit ie buying new things, or in stylist talk: “filling the gaps.”

It’s a great time of year to do it too.

1. The sales are on.

2. My birthday is the perfect cover for buying the better version and splurging a little extra.

Essentially: The dopamine is ready and available.

And yet… I’m content1.

My wardrobe is now the leanest it been since that time I moved to Canada with only two suitcases (and none of my Australian clothes were warm enough!)

I digress, my point is, instead of feeling like I should go and fill the space, having less, somehow weirdly feels more abundant.

Turns out, having a wardrobe stocked only with clothes that fit me, suit my lifestyle and make me feel good is actually incredibly peaceful. Which sounds obvious. Having clothes that fit you and that you like should kind of be the baseline of what we’re willing to accept from our clothes and wardrobes… but apparently: it’s not.

Clearing out my closet really forced me to confront how many things I’ve bought over the years that I knew deep down weren’t good purchases.

• things that weren’t the right size but were the last ones in stock

• things that were on sale

• things that were for a fantasy version of my life

• and perhaps most depressingly: things that had a number on the tag that my ego liked.2

We treat clothes we genuinely love as a luxury when that should actually be the minimum requirement. Somewhere along the way we’ve convinced ourselves that comfort, confidence and joy are bonuses rather than necessities. We think that if something is “good enough” we should be grateful. But why? We spend our lives in our clothes. Surely feeling good in them should be the starting point not the reward.

For so many women (myself included) I think the benchmark isn’t “do I love this” it’s more “can I make this work?” Work for what? Work to make us blend in? Work to feel nice, but not too nice? Work to feel good, but not that you’re better than anyone else?

The older I’m getting, the less interested I am in owning or settling for “good enough.” I’m far less interested these days in blending in and playing small. I don’t want to shrink myself to be less intimidating to others. I actually want to own my beauty and power and confidence and give permission to the women around me (and who read this) to do the same.

• playing small serves no-one (except the patriarchy - a topic for anther day)

• no-one has to understand or approve of your style choices except for you

• quantity will never make up for quality

Through this wardrobe clear out, what I’ve realised is: a closet isn’t made better by having more options, its made better by having fewer compromises.

And to emphasise my point, some outfits from the past week. Every single one passed my new test which isn’t “can I make this work?” But “do I actually want to wear this?”

This wasn’t my favourite look from the week, but it was a very important look psychologically. I had a realisation, an ah-ha! moment, that I will now refer to forevermore as the “yes I can” method of dressing.

Here’s how it works:

Can I wear cowboy boots and long denim shorts to school pick up? Yes I can.

Can I wear my best designer boots to a hair appointment? Yes I can.

Can I wear a sheer beaded Dries Van Noten cami that I found at a secondhand store to the ballet? Yes I can.

Can I wear leopard print on a Sunday? Yes I can.

Can I pretend to be french? Yes I can.

And you can too!!! I’d love to hear if you have any favourite looks from the week, or if this has inspired you to reassess where you’re at on your own style/ wardrobe journey.

As always, thank you so much for being here and reading all the way to the end! Please like, comment or share to help my substack grow x

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And as much as I considered taking my girl Kelly William’s lead and writing an unhinged birthday wish list… I feel like I already covered that territory with my Mother’s Day gift guide (Also unhinged! You can read it here.)

So instead, I’m following in the footsteps of great women like Lena Dunham, and Laura Wheateley, and sharing my very own 40 things I’ve learned in 40 years. And yes, technically I have 2 more weeks before I’m “officially” 40, but your girls busy in the lead up, so I’m publishing it now.

One of the most frustrating truths, ironically, that I wanted to add to the list but would really negate the list is: You can’t learn other people’s life lessons for them. (But, for the sake of this article, let’s just pretend you can.)

But really, wouldn’t that be great? As a mother, I desperately wish I could impart my hard eared wisdom to my kids and and help them navigate their way smoothly and successfully to adulthood. There are SO MANY things I’d love to spare them from: heartbreak, regret, embarrassment, shame, guilt, fear, bad hair cuts…

But wisdom, like parenting, is frustrating like that. You’ve got to go through it, to grow through it.

So this listicle isn’t universal advice (although, if it resonates with you I’ll be thrilled.) It’s just a collection of bits and bobs I jotted down in my notes app (usually after a workout or a shower, because that’s where I do my best thinking.)

But before we get into the wisdom I’ve accumulated through 40 years of mistakes, wins, regrets and therapy… I want to start off with something my best friend told me. I hope that THIS is the piece of advice you carry with you long after you’ve forgotten the other 39.

1. Just being you is enough - you don’t need to justify your existence with a high powered career or productivity report card. The fact that you exist - in this world - is enough. Wear the lipstick, burn the good candle, drink from the fancy glasses.

   Now onto the rest of the advice that I had to learn the hard way.

2. Not every outfit needs a belt.

3. Don’t be a c*nt. Being the worst version of yourself, despite maybe feeling good in the heat of the moment, will almost certainly leave you feeling awful afterwards.

4. A person who can laugh at themselves is almost impossible to embarrass.

5. Being kind and offering grace, is generally more important than being “right.” As my dad once said to me when he was teaching me how to drive “there’s no point being right and in hospital”

6. Nobody wants to hear about the dream you had last night.

7. The things you’re most self conscious about are things that other people barely notice.

8. You are the author of your own life. You get to define what success looks like to you. You get to define what ageing will look like to you. You get to define what kind of love and friendships you want in your life.

9. If it’ll take 2 minutes or less, do it now.

10. A boring outfit can be rescued by a great coat.

11. Some friendships are seasonal and that doesn’t make them a failure.

12. People are thinking about you far less than you think they are.

13. There are no awards for being low maintenance. Be as much maintenance as you need to be, to feel good in yourself.

14. The perfect jeans exist. They’re just probably 1-2 sizes bigger than your ego wants you to buy.

15. Its better to be shit at something than an expert at never trying.

16. When your best friend tells you they’re having a baby: you’ll be overjoyed. When you find out your high school nemesis is pregnant: you’ll be overjoyed. Turns out having babies is the best thing you’ll ever do and it will absolutely destroy you.

17. Everybody’s winging it.

18. Effortless is a myth.

19. Nothing in life is more valuable than your health. Invest in it. Protect it. Teach the people you love to do the same.

20. If everyone likes you, you’re probably not being honest enough.

21. The fear of the thing is almost always worse than the thing itself. Open the letter. Show up to class. Break up with him. Make the call. Book the appointment. Have the conversation.

22. Schedule joy because hardships will schedule themselves.

23. You’re allowed to change your mind. Even about things you once felt very strongly about. Changing your mind is a strength not a weakness.

24. A rising tide lifts all boats. Be generous.

25. Not making a decision is also a decision.

26. You can either be afraid and stuck doing nothing, or afraid and moving towards your goals.

27. Becoming a parent will change your perspective on life in ways you cannot prepare for. What do you mean the few steps between strapping your kid into their car seat and walking around to the drivers side is a holiday?

28. When someone shows you who they are, believe them.

29. A good friend will save you thousands in therapy.

30. Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is rest.

31. There is no amount of organising that can compensate for simply owning too much stuff (ask me how I know!)

32. Most people don’t start because they’re waiting to feel confident. Confidence is the prize that comes after the hard work.

33. Your body will change… repeatedly. This is not a flaw.

34. It takes a great man to be better than no man.

35. The hardest part of motherhood is learning to regulate your own emotions.

36. The first version doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to exist.

37. You can do hard things. You are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for.

38. Stop buying clothes for imaginary occasions and an imaginary lifestyle.

39. Invest in the things people see first - this isn’t just about buying good jackets and bags - this is about personal grooming. Brush your hair and your teeth. Comb your knits. Cut loose threads off (and cut that little X on the back vent of all your jackets.) Clean your shoes. Have tidy clean hands.

40. Certain moments will remind you of what a gift your life is: visiting nursing homes, seeing loved ones become sick and pass away, friends losing babies… hold those moments close to your heart and use them to remind yourself every morning of how lucky you are.

It feels magical right now, reflecting on what life has been so far, and looking ahead to where I hope life will take me next. With any luck, there will be an updated version at 50, and 60 and so on… but for now, if there are any big life lessons I’ve missed, or I need to be armed with as I enter this new decade, please share below.

With so much love and gratitude.

x

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Heads up! This one’s a little too long to read in your e-mail and will need to be opened in the Substack app.

I was at the gym the other day when I had a realisation.

Almost everyone there was roughly there for the same reason. They’re trying to improve something. Maybe they want to get stronger, faster, fitter, more agile or more mobile. But broadly speaking, their goals are the same.

The path, however, looks wildly different.

If there was only one correct way to get fit, gyms would contain exactly one piece of equipment and we’d all patiently line up and take turns. Instead, gyms are filled with a huge range of equipment: free weights, cardio machines, cable weights, yoga mats etc. And it’s up to us, the individual, to figure out which combination of these things we need to use (and how frequently and how intensely) for us to reach our goals.

So although the goal might be similar, the method is deeply personal.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that getting dressed works exactly the same way.

Most of us are trying to achieve some version of the same thing. I believe we, fundamentally, want to feel good in our clothes. Whether that means confident, attractive, comfortable, creative, stylish, modern… [insert your own word here]. We each get to define what “good” means to us, but generally speaking, the goal is surprisingly similar.

The route is not.

Just like in the gym, if there was one perfect formula for getting dressed, then there would be one shop selling one outfit called “The Outfit” and we’d all buy it.

Instead, we’re faced with endless choice. On top of the plethora of choice we also all have: Different bodies. Different budgets. Different lifestyles. Different abilities. Different priorities. Different climates. Different ages.

Which is exactly why I’ve become suspicious of fashion content that presents itself as a universal solutions (namely: packing lists, outfit formulas and capsule wardrobe guidelines)

It’s not because I think outfit formulas or packing lists are inherently bad… actually in writing this I’ve debated myself on both sides of the argument and I’ve decided I think they’re extremely useful (but only if you’re using them as a framework, and not a copy and paste instruction manual.)

I guess, to me, seeing an outfit formula that says something like: “Blazer + Jeans + Ballet Flats”, just looks like someone’s listing random categories. What kind of blazer? Fitted or oversized? Dark wash or vintage denim? Metallic or velvet ballet flats? What are the colours, proportions, fabrics? What version of that formula is going to feel like you?

The answer to that question, is where personal style lives.

The magic doesn’t live in the list of categories you’re giving me, the magic lives in the interpretation.

That’s why I really loved seeing the below post from Allison Bornstein. She gave a perfect example of this, referring to it as the difference between inspiration and influence:

Influence makes you want to copy. Inspiration makes you want to create. One leaves you looking like somebody else, and feeling like you’re in a costume, and the other helps you become more yourself.

So as far as I’m concerned, me prescribing you an outfit formula that works for my life, my age, my budget, my sensitivities, is about as useful as me writing you a workout plan without knowing anything about your health and fitness history.

But then why do I share weekly outfit pics in the first place?

Because I see too many women around me not feeling good in their clothes. I see women I love and admire, not dressing like they love and admire themselves. Whether it’s because their bodies have changed postpartum or with mid age. Or maybe their priorities have shifted and somewhere along the way they’ve slid down their own list of priorities. Or maybe shopping feels intimidating. Or maybe the cost of living makes shopping feel like an impossible indulgence. Or maybe it’s a perfect storm of all of it. I want my outfit recaps to feel like a permission slip.

I want “regular” women: mums and wives and sisters and friends, to see themselves in me and know that it’s absolutely ok, and acceptable, and fun, to dress for your own pleasure. Not to shrink, and not to necessarily take up space, but to just be the most, best, you possible.

So on that note: a weekly round up of outfits that were probably “too much” for what I was doing, but felt just right, to me. I’d love to hear if you have any favourites that inspire you to recreate “the formula” in your own stylish way. After all: The formula might get you started…

But the interpretation is where the fun begins!

x

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The formula: Statement coat + knit + jeans + boots

The Occassion: Kinder pick up.

It’s important to me that children aged 5 and under understand that there is more to fashion than Paw Patrol and Frozen trademark licensed clothing. Sometimes, you must walk the walk.

The formula: Long Coat + Textured knit + Jeans + Ballet Flats

The Occassion: school pick up and then off to a girls weekend away

Would I have normally worn this to school pick up if I wasn’t going somewhere afterwards? Yes. I especially liked that all my mum friends at school pick up kept patting me. Will 100% repeat.

The formula: Jeans + T-shirt + Ballet Flats + Vintage Jacket

The Occassion: School pick up

When I bought this jacket secondhand I thought, will I really wear vintage Celine to the supermarket and school pick up? Because those two things (and the gym) are really where I live like 80% of my life. And I honestly wasn’t sure. But then it was a nice, not too cold day, and I thought, gosh, if not now, when?

The formula: All Black Base + Embellished Jacket

The Occassion: Date night with my girlfriend

I would also have worn this on a date night with my husband but someone had to look after the kids! I felt sexy for me. Whoever I got to feel sexy around was just the bonus.

The formula: Knit + Jeans + Boots

The Occassion: Brunch after a very humbling yoga class

When you’re a yoga teacher, all yoga classes are humbling because the expectation is that you’ll be excellent at everything, and yet, I am still a mere mortal who sweats bucket loads under those heat panels and wobbles in balancing poses. This outfit helped me reclaim some of my dignity.

The formula: Trench + Jeans + T-shirt + Ballet Flats

The Occassion: School pick up when I should have been in Paris

Oh! Truly a sad story, but this May, my mum and I were supposed to go on a girls trip to Paris to celebrate my 40th, and also to celebrate the beautiful fact that we could. Until the US and Israel went to war with Iran and suddenly, due to global instability and the realities of flying from Australia to Europe… we couldn’t. That’s ok though, the trip will happen at some stage and until then, I can dress in my most Frosso approved french girl inspired outfits.

The formula: Sweatpants + Sneakers + Bomber Jacket

The Occassion: A rainy day playdate

The best part about play dates isn’t that my daughter has a little friend for her to play with… although that’s very cute. The best part is that I have a friend to play with! I mean, mum friends are a true life/ sanity saver. Someone to normalise all the things you go through as a parent AND eat banana bread with? Say less.

When I told my daughter we were both “purple girls” she spent the whole day gaslighting me telling me I was wearing blue. So… am I colour blind or is she a psychological mastermind?

Thank you so much for reading Sophie’s Obsessed. If you liked it… and I’m hoping you did if you made it this far - please give it a like or leave a comment. It means so much to me when people engage with my writing and by engaging with it, it helps it become more visible to other readers.

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Very rarely, if ever, will you see me dive straight into an outfit roundup without some kind of preamble first. I was exactly the same way as a yoga teacher. I would never just walk into class and start instructing what moves to do, or shapes to take. There was always a theme, an intention, a thread of story weaving everything together. It made the whole experience feel more embodied... more multi-dimensional.

I’ve realised, I sort of approach getting dressed in the same way.

I don’t just like clothes, I like the stories attached to the clothes too.

Not Just the story of the character you’re trying to convey to the world through your style choices (although - that is an incredibly important story) I mean stories like: Where did you find it? How much did it cost? Was it on sale? Was it on SUPER sale? Was it a gift? Was it a hand-me-down? Etc.

You see, I’m the kind of person who is physically incapable of simply accepting a compliment with a clean “thank you.” If someone says, “I like your dress” you will not catch me being cool,1 no sir-ee, you will hear me say something like “Thank you so much, I found it on the Outnet, for an extra 30% off, and it was the last one left and I really feel like that was the universes way of telling me that I should buy it.”

I mean, maybe it was the universe… or maybe it was my finely trained eye from years and years, and decades and decades of being fashion obsessed. But what it generally isn’t, when you’re shopping on deep discount or secondhand, is the algorithm.

Something that jumped out at me while reading “Style Tips No One Talks About But Actually Helps” (a fantastic read that you should check out after this!) was this idea:

It’s true!

When you thrift, there’s no “customers also bought” link to click on. There’s no influencer styling video telling you exactly how to wear something. No perfectly curated article convincing you that this is the must have item of the season. You’re forced to rely on your own instincts. Your own eye. Your own taste.

Which is surprisingly rare these days.

Modern shopping has become so optimised that sometimes it feels like we’re all being dressed from the same mood-board. The same trench. The same adidas sneakers (guilty! I wore mine twice last week.) The same scandi-minimalist woman, with a slicked back bun, swirling an iced latte.

But thrifting feels different. Thrifting feels like treasure hunting.

You have to sift through chaos. You have to know about fit and fabric composition. You need to know your brands, and care labels. You must have strong personal boundaries (for instance, no matter how beautiful the item is, or what a great price it is, I will not buy it if its stained. Ew.)

Most importantly, you need to know the difference between what you admire (Prada) and what you’ll actually wear (Levi’s) Because loving Prada aesthetically and realistically living in Levi’s is two very different things.

So this weeks outfit round up is accidentally dedicated to some of my thrifted pieces. I didn’t intentionally set out to do that, but once you start thrifting, those little gems start to take over your wardrobe… and soon enough rather than saying the soul crushing sentence “thanks, I got it from Zara” you instead hear yourself saying “Thanks! I found it in this little consignment store that’s around the corner from my daughters kinder, and it’s run by two of the nicest guys who just seem to love every item in their store.”

Or… maybe you’re a normal person and you’re able to just say “thanks.” Regardless: Here’s the round up. I’d love to hear if you have a favourite look from the week.

Second hand finds: jeans and denim shirt

Starting strong with a fully thrifted and gifted outfit. Some gifts were from me to me (the scarf) some gifts were to me from my husband (through me sending him specific links)… so also kind of from me to me!

Both the jeans and shirt were thrifted and in a delightful turn of events create a near perfect Canadian tuxedo. The absolute best for feeling put together while “mumming.” I highly recommend searching for a denim jacket or shirt in the same wash as your favourite pair of jeans so you can DIY your own denim suit.

Second hand find: lady jacket and white t-shirt

When I found this second hand jacket I posted about it on instagram and one of my friends wrote back.. “Where are you going to wear that?” I’ll tell you where I wore this: to pick up our takeout order! What do you mean, where will I wear it? LIFE! Where you wear all your clothes! But the truth is, I understand. Not all people share either my vision or my confidence and that’s ok. That’s why I like to share these stories here so that by me wearing a fancy little pearl button lady jacket to the fried chicken shop, I can give you permission to wear your fancy little twee jacket to your fried chicken shop too.

Second hand find: Jeans and shirt (debatable)

Are we allowed to say something is thrifted if it’s taken from your husbands wardrobe? If so: this shirt has been lovingly thrifted and permanently re-homed into my side of the wardrobe.

This jacket was actually another super sale find from the Outnet, a brand called Deiji Studios which I wasn’t familiar with but, through buying it on super sale, I came to learn is an Australian brand based in Byron Bay and ships worldwide. The more you know.

Second hand find: Acne Studios t-shirt

I found this Acne tshirt new with tags at a secondhand store, bought it for $80 (AUD) and then searched for a clean image of it online so I could add it into my Indyx and found out it retails for $750! Come on. That’s a good day at the thrift store. It also makes me feel better for the expensive mistakes I’ve made in my life. Because we all make them. Somewhere out there, there’s a woman who is bitter that she made that mistake, but if I could tell her one thing, it would be… actually it would be two things:

1. her mistake bought me a lot of joy and I hope that gives her some comfort.

2. she can have my phone number and just text me directly next time she’s clearing out her closet.

Second hand find: Bassike T-shirt

This outfit reminds me of something I saw Anna Baldwin talking about on her instagram re. feeling frumpy in your clothes which is: if you’re reaching for slouchy, unstructured clothes and they make you feel comfortable but frumpy, work on making your accessories more polished and structured. Take the pressure off the clothes and put it on the accessories instead (that includes nail polish, lipstick and HAIR!) By choosing polished shoes, a shiny bag, a simple necklace and waking up with a good hair day - I made this outfit look (and feel) incredibly put together whereas sneakers and a messy bun just wouldn’t have had the same effect. Something to think about.

Second hand find: ba&sh knit

This final look is a little cheeky and I’ll tell you why. I bought this jumper years ago via Shopbop and I never wore it. At the time I didn’t like the look of it on me, and I can’t remember if it was because I was postpartum or just being hard on myself… maybe both? Anyway, I gave it to one of my girlfriends. (I think this is an important part of finding excellent secondhand treasures, in order for the universe to reward you with gifts it’s also important to be generous with gifts back out into the universe. It’s science) Fast forward to present day: my girl friend is packing because she’s moving house and finds this knit… she’d never gotten much wear out of it either. She messages me and asks if I want it back… and I think: sure! I liked it once (in theory) maybe I’ll like it again? And I DO! So much… I wore it twice this week!

And that’s that! Story time is now over. But join me next time where we’ll be Going on a Bear Hunt.

Much love to you all.

x

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About 2 months ago I decided to start training differently.

Movement has always been my therapy, but I wanted to establish more of a “yes and” relationship with fitness. Acknowledging that yes: I prioritise exercise because it’s essential for my mental health and I can also be goal oriented.

So armed with the fitness knowledge I’ve accumulated over decades in the industry, and a few specific conversations I had with Chat GPT - I committed myself to an intense 16 week program designed to carry me into my 40’s as the strongest and healthiest version of myself.

Kicking it up a notch meant: more cardio, more strength, more protein, more carbs and more overall calories.

What I didn’t anticipate (especially not so soon) was: more ass.

Admittedly, this is kind of a funny first world problem to have. Hahahahaha. I was laughing too until I couldn’t fit into my clothes. Turns out it’s a strange adjustment when you get the thing you want at the cost of something else that you love. For someone who is as obsessed with fashion as I am, and who (more pertinently) has invested ($$$) in this obsession, it’s kind of a disaster. (In the way that any first world problem can be a disaster.)

For instance: I can do my pants up, but in certain jeans I can’t bend or sit. Which has made me realise: just because I can technically fit into something, doesn’t necessarily mean it fits. Ya feel?

And the truth is: I’m loving my new training program. I feel fitter and stronger than I have in… ever? But, I’m also grappling with the strange internal push and pull of intentionally becoming bigger in a culture obsessed with becoming smaller.1

At the moment, it feels like every other headline is somehow related to GLP 1’s and the general glorification of skinny (I even wrote my own roundabout article about it) Women shrinking themselves is still treated as the aspirational benchmark. Meanwhile very few people (at least from what I’ve been exposed to in my algorithm) glorify deliberately taking up more space. Even when the reason is health based. And even when the result is strength.

We’re taught to think that the body we had at 23 is our “real” body and everything after that, any changes or fluctuations, are a deviation rather than an evolution.

But I don’t want to look like a teenager.

When I was younger, yes I was objectively gorgeous (we all were), but I was also gangly, awkward and unsure of myself. I didn’t know how to advocate for myself. I was terrible at taking care of myself (a wheel of brie constituted a meal on more than one occasion) And ultimately, I spent my young adulthood confusing being wanted with being valued.

Now I’m weeks away from turning 40 and while some of my jeans have been relocated to the attic, overall, I feel sturdier in every sense of the word. I feel more physically powerful. More emotionally confident and honest. Actually, more confident in general. Which in turn makes me feel far less interested in shrinking myself - both metaphorically and physically.

I realise choosing to add bulk to my frame might sound confusing - especially because I’m whinging about having my cake and wanting to eat it too. But to me, beyond the myriad health benefits of having an improved VO2 max, and more muscle fibres (especially as I enter my 40’s) being strong frankly feels sexy.

Not sexy in the super feminine, polished, tiny, hyper restricted way that women are usually taught to aspire to. But in a mature, grounded and (please excuse the yogi talk) deeply embodied way. I feel like a woman now, not a girl, and I’m proud that my body reflects that.

So this week’s outfit recap is my visual diary of how I’ve been dressing the version of myself that exists right now. I don’t want to punish myself into a certain size, and I’m not going to panic buy a whole new wardrobe - but I do have to take stock a little bit and figure out what’s going to fit this current version best.

Something I wish I’d been told more in my formative years is: bodies change because we change. They will change many times over in our lifetime and it’s a normal part of being alive. Not a failure.

Fortunately for me, this particular change has come from caring for myself well. I know all too well that not all changes are welcome. When I look in the mirror, I’m proud of the ass I’ve built. Yes, my mini skirts are now all indecently short, and some of my pants aren’t comfortable. But there are plenty of clothes in my closet that fit beautifully and I can keep squatting and deadlifting!

Below are some of my current wardrobe heroes.

If you too, are also blessed with an ass that won’t quit, maybe you’ll find some good inspo.

Enjoy!

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Baggy Jeans

These jeans are true 12 mo’ers which is a Tibi term used to describe how useful an item of clothing is throughout the year. These jeans truly do it all. Baggy and light enough to wear in summer with a cami and a barely there sandal, and substantial enough to wear in the depths of winter with boots and layers. (Admittedly we’re not quite in the depths of winter yet… but we’ve had a few tastes) I love wearing these jeans with a fairly oversized jacket too. Not because I’m trying to hide my shape, but because I feel sexy and cool when I’m in polished but slouchy outfits.

I shared this outfit in my previous article, which was a DWP2 recap, and since it was one of my lest read articles (trying not to feel sensitive about that, and just hoping it’s because people didn’t want to read any spoilers) I thought this outfit deserved a second share. It needs to be properly appreciated! The texture. The boots. The slouch. I felt good in this!

Pull On Pants

My son has a book that asks: What ship is not a ship? Friendship. And I feel like this caption should say something like: what makes black tracksuit pants not black tracksuit pants? Styling! To keep it from feeling flat, or one dimensional, there are a few elements at play. Firstly, the whole outfit isn’t “sporty” - just the pants and shoes. Secondly, the colour combinations aren’t your typical “safe” option. Hello pickle green. And lastly, there is unexpected structure in the blazer and texture in the scarf. Not too much, but enough to elevate this out of “woman who has given up” and into “she’s a cool mum.”

These are the Rag and Bone Miramar jeans that I’ve talked about many times. What jeans are not a jean? The Miramars. They’ve used the trompe-l'œil technique of printing the look of denim over a sweat pant material. And the best part is, literally no-one needs to know these aren’t real jeans. No one would know, except that I keep going around telling everyone about them, and making everyone “feel my pants.” They’re just amazing!

Also: this pink knit is new. Happy Mother’s Day to me. How did they know the exact thing I wanted2?! Weird.

You might be thinking, boy! She really likes that trench and scarf combination… and you’d be right. I didn’t actually know how to wear this trench until this scarf came into my life. Sometimes that’s the way it goes. You buy something - you have good instincts - but the rest of your wardrobe hasn’t caught up yet. So that item waits patiently… maybe even two years… before the missing piece of the puzzle arrives. Can you relate?

Also, I’m never not wearing a claw clip somewhere on my body.

Denim with 2% elastane

The elastane content is important when it comes to these jeans. They are so comfortable (and forgiving). I know that when you add in the elastane you lose the look of worn in, rigid vintage denim, but you also lose the rigidness of the denim, duh. These jeans are so forgiving that I actually had the unexpected experience of sizing down for once!

Same jeans, different styling. This is going to sound ridiculous but I forgot you can wear button up shirts under sweaters. I’m so used to wearing them on their own, or as a light top layer, I forgot that they can be a bottom layer too - so versatile!

Also, historically my OCD would want me to pair brown boots with a brown jacket… but am I crazy in thinking that the black boots work?

Anyway, that’s enough from me. I gotta go smash out a few burpees and eat a rotisserie chicken. Until next time my loves.

If you enjoyed todays newsletter, please like, comment, share, restack or subscribe. The one thing I love more than writing, is writing for an audience. So any and all engagement not only helps me grow as a writer, but also, as an egomaniac. Thank you

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Let me paint the scene: It was Saturday night and I had, in my opinion, cracked the code on what I believed was the perfect outfit for a screening of The Devil Wears Prada 2. I wanted it to be a subtle nod to loving fashion and being genuinely excited for the film, while still acknowledging that I was seeing it at my local Westfield and not attending some kind of chic industry screening.

And when I say I was excited, I mean it. I wanted to love this. Deeply. And against all odds. Because let’s be honest, the bar for sequels has been set on the floor by cultural artefacts like the Sex and the City 2 movie. I went in with low expectations… and I’m not sure it met them even on that level.

Before I get into it though there are a few positives I’d like to address. Firstly, I love that Hollywood made a film for women (and gay men?) and marketed to us. That feels increasingly rare. Proof that it’s rare is that the two trailers shown before the movie were for Spiderman and the live action remake of Moana. It’s a desert out there for films made for women about women. So I was grateful for that.

Other things I loved: The cast. Iconic. Ignoring for a moment that the sequel had far too many characters and cameos, seeing the 4 main characters reunited after 20 years felt special.

Which leads to the next positive: due to the original’s cult status and the caliber of the cast, it got people to actually attend the theatre. That’s good for the industry and good for everyday people to have a reason to get dressed up and leave the house (me.)

Big ticket question: did I love the fashion? I’ll circle back to that.

Onto the actual film

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As I mentioned, I saw it on Saturday night, and then I sent a voice note to my best friend straight afterwards with my honest, straight off the cuff review. I did not know at the time that I was going to write about it, and maybe if I’d gone into the film with that in mind, I might have taken some actual notes. But no, like the C grade student I am, I’m just going to go off my sketchy memory. I considered seeing it a second time so I could flesh this out, but I don’t want to see it a second time. So that in itself is my short review. HA!

From memory, the film opens at an industry award night for journalism where Andie is being awarded the highest award in journalism (go girl!) but moments before she accepts it, her entire newspaper is shut down by a BAD billionaire via text message. She gives an impromptu rousing speech that goes viral.

Meanwhile Miranda has been cancelled for running a glowing feature of a brand that uses sweatshops. An offence so serious that, historically, it has resulted in absolutely no one in fashion ever being cancelled. But, sure.1

A few texts are sent and Andie is suddenly the new Features Editor at Runway. A job that is just handed to her with zero friction and seemingly no interview or reference checks.

She’s finding working with Miranda to be difficult (what’s new?!) and can’t seem to win her respect… until she secures an interview with the reclusive GOOD billionaire Lucy Liu. Miranda and Andie interview an incredibly bland Lucy Liu and Andie’s feature of her in Runway seems to save the magazine?… until

Irv (the owner of Conde Nast, or whatever the Runway worlds version is) drops dead on the eve he’s about to announce that Miranda is being promoted to head of global content (the role that Anna has in real life! How art imitates life imitates art etc) A promotion that, apparently, exists only in his mind (and Miranda’s). No contracts, no board approval, no paper trail. Once he’s gone, so is her future.

Enter his son (played by BJ Novak), who’s role is to “optimise” Runway, which mostly involves explaining business concepts like he’s still Ryan from The Office.

Ryan takes Miranda to the Runway cafeteria and lays out all the ways he’s going to butcher her already anorexic magazine. Andie’s savvy Gen Z assistant illegally records the entire conversation and when Andie listens back to it she has a massive panic attack. She thinks: NO I can’t loose another job. I just bought a new apartment from my new totally unnecessary love interest that I have zero chemistry with. I need job security. I need assurances. I’ll go to Miranda’s house crying and unhinged and beg her to do something. Miranda rightly tells her: “Do not concern yourself, it does not concern you.”

(Please allow me to interject my *wonderful* retelling with something that I can’t wrap my head around: ANDIE ISN’T PROFESSIONAL AT ALL. Andie is chaotic and bad at her job. I can buy an intern being doe eyed with an inflated sense of themselves, believing that she’s an essential cog in the huge machine that is Runway magazine. But I cannot in good conscience believe that after having an award-winning career in journalism, where she has travelled the world and built a career and name for herself, she is still acting like a needy, breathy, naïve, overly emotional pick me girl.)

And yet, Andie continues to behave as though she is the central pillar holding up a global media company.

And then we go to Milan, naturally.

I need to interject here again, I’m sorry. There is no world in which Miranda is flying economy. We’ve seen her house in New York and her house in the Hamptons. She has been the EIC at Runway for upwards of 30 years. Even with budget cuts she has enough money, and air miles and friends to call on to get her out of economy. She could have flown on Kris Jenner’s private jet. Whatever.

There’s some sort of fashion show where Lady Gaga performs a song with dead eyes, that definitely feels like it was reverse engineered for the film - but before all that we learn Emily is also in Milan. She’s with her boyfriend who is another billionaire. We’re not sure if he’s one of the good one’s or one of the bad ones, but somehow he’s made his fortune being one of the dumb ones. (I did enjoy the line when Emily was expounding the fact that she couldn’t believe Kendall wore Dolce and not Dior, and Emily’s boyfriend - who I only learned after the film was Justin Theroux - said, “I still can’t believe someone’s called Ken Doll.”)

On the note of Emily though. What is her job title? She seems to be:

Dior’s head of advertising
Dior’s sole retail employee
and possibly interior designer of Dior’s flagship stores?
An impressive and confusing portfolio.

I digress. Andie (of fucking course) hatches a plan. She decides the solution to all of Runway’s problems is to get Emily’s billionaire boyfriend to buy the magazine. They pitch this plan to him at his villa on Lake Como while Andie’s wearing sequin harem pants, and for a moment we’re meant to believe the plan is genius.

Until Miranda learns about the plan and points out that if he buys it, he’ll hand it to his trophy girlfriend Emily. (Another nod to the real life speculation that Jeff Bezoz bought Lauren Sanches her cover spot on Vogue and was also allegedly considering buying her Vogue as a wedding present.)

I guess this is where the film really shows it’s hand, because the central thesis seems to be: Billionaires are the problem… unless you find one of the good ones.

Eventually, Miranda snaps out of whatever low-energy trance she’s been in for most of the film and decides to fight back. Andie is dispatched to make Important Phone CallsTM on two phones (very busy, very important), and she secures a deal with the GOOD billionaire Lucy Liu, who not only buys Runway, but all of Conde Nast.

Miranda gets her promotion. Stability is restored. Capitalism wins, but in a friendly way.

Andie gets a C suite office with a window while wearing her scrappy up-cycled cerulean knit sweater. I understand that it’s a callback to the original infamous cerulean knit sweater, and that she’s held onto it for all these years. But we’re supposed to believe that this is the same fashion office where the women who worked there would RUN to put heels on if Miranda was in the building. And somehow, the features editor just walks in wearing rags? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

We end with Andy and Emily having lunch (they’re pals now). Emily is now working at Coach and eating carbs, which is either meant to symbolise personal growth, or rock bottom? She mentions something along the lines of “carbs don’t count if you eat them with friends” and while I enjoy the sentiment (particularly because the original Devil Wears Prada had some pretty bad takes on food and body size) it also perfectly sums up one of the film’s biggest issues which is: every line feels like it’s trying to be iconic, without earning it. There’s no space for story. Just a series of lines that want to be quoted.

And that’s not the only problem. My other major issue with the film (aside from all the undeveloped plot points and unnecessary characters etc) is: The original film made fashion and the world of Runway magazine feel magical. It was aspirational, ridiculous, important in a way that felt completely irrational but also completely real.

This one?

No one talks about fashion. Not really. Not in a meaningful way. Not about where it’s going, or what it means now, or who has the power now, and who the tastemakers are. It makes no reference to how it exists in a world of influencers and online retail and algorithm-driven taste. Also, while we’re on the topic of fashion: I don’t believe Andie know’s who or what Margeila is. I also don’t buy that someone on a journalists salary who is familiar with the concept of consignment stores GAVE away archival Chanel. I do believe however that she was happy to give away that dud Valentino bag.

Like I said, I wanted fashion. I got finance.

The whole movie felt like sitting in on a meeting about media restructuring. It wasn’t glamorous and it wasn’t transportive. It was corporate.

Miranda lost her edge. Andie learned nothing. The men are mostly unnecessary (sorry Stanley). And the world that once felt so glamorous and untouchable now feels oddly generic.

I wanted Miranda Priestly. I got middle management.

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Now you know what I think: I’d love to hear what did you think?!

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And then… my hormones absolutely took me out.

I’m talking: on and off sobbing for a few days, low-key resenting everyone in my house and waking up to a painful chin breakout that immediately made me more grumpy and more weepy. The full experience.

In summation, this week has been mid, at best.

However during my very “mid at best week” I read an article by Tina from Semi Sustainable about “how to find your personal style when you’re surrounded by trends.” And while that wasn’t exactly my problem, I did feel like it could have equally been titled “How to find your personal style when your hormones are sabotaging your brain” because the advice definitely translated.

One idea that stuck with me was: documenting your outfits, this is what she said:

I had a better grasp on how things fit, proportions that worked with my shape and height, and how I liked to inject color. I built a rotation of outfits to inspire myself when I was in a rut. I saw what I hated and what I loved. I felt confident enough to repeat my favorite looks. All of this sharpened my sense of style and gave me a visual record of the outfits that instilled confidence.

For me, the key part of the above quote is where she mentions she “saw what I hated and loved” and I think that’s so important. It’s awesome when you’re feeling yourself and you take an outfit selfie and want to post it, and share it with the world. You know: turn it into business cards and then send them to all the bitchy girls from high school, and all your ex boyfriends as a reminder that yes, you are in fact impossibly hot and chic and cool. But I think we equally need to champion how brave it is to take a picture of an outfit you hated. It’s so much harder to document those outfits because part of you feels like its a waste of time, part of you doesn’t want a reminder that the outfit happened, and part of you feels like to spend more energy on something negative is a bad message for the universe to keep sending you negative things (shit outfits.)

But here’s the truth, if you can stomach taking pictures on your bad days, or mid days, or nothing days then you get more data.

Print this out and hang it in your closet:

THERE ARE NO BAD OUTFITS, ONLY DATA.

And babes, I collected a lot of data this week. Below you will find every outfit from my week ranked worst to best.

SNOREEEEE! What a boring outfit. Not wrong, just boring (to me.) Here’s what I hate: the whole look is simultaneously crumpled and flat from head to toe. Here’s what tricked me: individually these are some of my comfiest and favourite items. But as a whole, it looks tired and flat and one dimensional and boring… and guess how it made me feel.

Sometimes I ride my bike for school drop off and pick up and when I say “my bike” I mean my husbands. It’s too big for me which means I need to be really sensible in what shoes and pants/ shorts I wear. In no world am I wearing ballet flats and a floaty dress on that pre-war hunk of a bike1. Anyway, why did I hate this: bike shorts in public, much like leggings, make me feel really self conscious. TOO TIGHT. But loose shorts on a bike let my ass hang out and that’s just not a good look for a mum at school pick up. I tried to make it work with an oversized graphic top, but as I mentioned above, and what I’m learning about myself as I analyse these looks and type this is: I don’t like crumpled clothes. Also what are we doing about socks these days? Do people still feel passionately that no show socks are a cancellable offence?

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Another outfit that elicits no joy. This one hurts because I thought I was doing “the right” thing. Satin pants, crisp cami, denim trench. I was thinking: textures! Contrast! Effort!

Unfortunately, all I see when I look at this is pyjama pants! and a dressing gown! Now that my brain has made that association, I can’t unsee it. Which raises a real question: what do I do with this trench? Do I persevere with it? Store it? Sell it? Accept that it’s emotionally a robe now and use it as one??? Open to guidance.

I’m not going to lie, pull on pants have featured heavily this week, partly because of the afore mentioned hormones, and partly because of Kelly Williams excellent exploration of “the Pull on Pant Moment” which has been front of mind. In it she notes that pull on pants are both nostalgic and practical and I absolutely agree.

These red ones are a sleeper hit in my wardrobe. Comfortable, practical, great colour, not precious. A true workhorse.

The styling? Meh. Not great, not terrible.

If I’m honest, my favourite part of the outfit was my chunky bracelet stack. I liked it so much I spent the afternoon in a Depop rabbit hole searching for secondhand Dinosaur Design jewellery. (No purchases were made)

Because I know I like these pants, I revisited them.2 Same pants, but different energy. The proportions felt right, the colours felt playful, and the white t-shirt lifted everything (including my face quite frankly!)

This outfit hit the sweet spot for me. It felt easy, comfortable, and a little bit playful. Pretty close to what I’m chasing every time I get dressed.

A girlfriend of mine invited me to join her bookclub and I’m not sure what excited me more: wearing my new kimono or being invited to a nighttime social activity. The group is very casual and gathers at a local pub, so I stuck with slouchy jeans and black minimal accessories, allowing the kimono to “do the talking” as they say. I wanted to convey through my outfit that I’m playful and interesting and confident and chill and maybe a little bit witchy?

For those who are interested, the book we gathered to chat about was: The Correspondent, and our next book (which I haven’t started but urgently need to) is The Lost Bookshop.

Ending the week on a high. If I were to make business cards to post to past loves turned enemies, this is the outfit I’d choose (at least from this round up.) I actually linked these jeans in a previous article ironically, about not shopping. Lol. Do as I say, not as I do! Honestly though, I’m glad I shopped. I was needing a win, and these jeans delivered. Paired with my crunchy green cami and some sweaty gym hair… I felt the most me I’d felt all week.

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So that was the week. It was’t super “fashionable” and as someone who aspires to be a personal stylist, that feels a bit humbling… but ultimately: useful.

As much as I’d love every week to be a win, that’s just not how life works. Some weeks I feel completely in sync with myself, and some weeks everything feels a little flat, and a little harder than it should. But that doesn’t mean that the efforts I made were wasted. It just means I had a full week of information gathering!

When I used to teach yoga, I’d ask all my students at the beginning of class to check in with themselves and give themselves a percentage ranking based on how they were feeling, how much energy they felt they had. It’s normal for energy to shift and fluctuate. Some days you’re at 90%, some days you’re at 30%.

But if you show up and give 100% of whatever you had in the tank that day - even if it’s only 30% - then you didn’t give 30%.

You gave 100%.

That’s how I’m trying to think about getting dressed at the moment.

Not every outfit I put together will be 10/10 incredible. I just want it to be an honest reflection of where ever I’m at that day. And then, if I can learn from it, and if I can keep striving to be just 1% better than I was the day before, soon, the scale will tip, so that even on my MOST hormonal and unhinged days, I’ll have such an epic collection of outfits to fall back on.

So I’ll keep documenting: the good, the bad and the mid. And I will try to keep in mind that ultimately, style is the journey and not the destination.

Thank you for being here with me through it all! x

PS. Did you have a favourite outfit from the week? Do you have any outfit edits you’d suggest? What would you do re. the denim trench?!

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The Mother’s Day gift guides have slowly started to trickle into my inbox… but even before that, I knew it was that time of year again because the stores are now filled with more pink and red and florals. The display tables are stacked with slippers, mugs, photo frames and lip balms. Essentially the stores are filled with more tat than usual… and I have thoughts!

Firstly, I have nothing against making your daily rituals more luxurious or whimsical. Use the fancy body wash, wear the cosy robe, drink from the funky mug. But please DO NOT give me that for Mother’s Day. For one thing, this is my 9th year celebrating mother’s day and I truly don’t need that many coffee mugs. But secondly, more importantly, what I want for mother’s day is systemic change. And if I can’t have that, then I want peace.

So, lets start at the top. What do I mean by systemic change? Well, to understand what I want to change I need to acknowledge where I’m at. I am a cis white woman in a loving marriage and I am in no ways saying my experience is universal. I know there are women who would gladly trade places with me and would love this version of motherhood. That doesn’t make the invisible parts that I’m currently struggling with disappear though. Side bar: when I first started seeing my therapist for my anxiety I confessed to her that I’d been putting it off because I knew people with far worse anxiety than my own, and she said to me “if you’re in a hole, it doesn’t matter if someone else is in a deeper hole. A hole is not a nice place to live.” Anyway, that’s where I’m coming from - my hole in this story is shallow and I know that.

I am married to a very kind, and loving, and modern man. He is more of a partner to me than I ever saw my father be to my mum. Andy takes care of our kids for chunks of time and doesn’t refer to it as babysitting (gosh the bar is low for dad’s isn’t it?!) When they were little he changed nappies and we did mixed feeding so he could give the babies a bottle while I rested (my eyes and my boobies, but my brain never switched off… I’ll get to that) He plays video games with our son, and Sylvanian families with out daughter. He takes the kids bike riding, and to the playground. Essentially: he is present and he is hands on.

But this is not about Andy not doing enough. It’s about how much of the invisible work, or the mental load, defaults to me… even in a good, loving, modern partnership.

His own dad, for the record, was not hands on. My father in law was a commercial pilot who was born on the Shetland Islands off the coast of Scotland. From what I’ve heard and learnt, it was a very harsh and unforgiving place to grow up in the 1950’s. For most of Andy’s childhood his dad was physically absent, and when he wasn’t, he was emotionally absent. My lovely husband basically has no blueprint on which to base fatherhood. (Or certainly not one he want’s to replicate for his own wife and kids, thank goodness)

My own dad by comparison was a market gardener and farmer: awake at 3am to get to market by 5am - and home and in bed by 6pm to do it all again the next day. As anyone with kids knows, those are not the hours you keep if you want to be an involved and active partner or parent. So MY blueprint of what to expect from a husband is also fairly murky. To have a husband who is awake during normal hours and present for dinner and bathtime, looks to my mum like I won the lottery.

And in many ways I did.

I DID win the lottery.

I am so blessed to have what I have. I am so fortunate to be doing life with Andy. However, there is still a major imbalance within our marriage when it comes to the division of labor in terms of raising our children and running the house. I have sacrificed my career in support of Andy pursuing his. I have dedicated my life to raising our children and running our home.

I was an active participant in all the decisions that lead me here. I chose this life. But I don’t think any of us are ever fully briefed.. or ever could be, on the invisible labour that comes with it. I chose to marry Andy (and I’d choose him in a hundred different lifetimes) I chose to - and was blessed to - have our two beautiful kids. I wanted to be a mum and I wanted to have all the things that I have, and yet… I’m not sure I was fully aware of what I was signing up for.

Some days I look around at my life and I think: “how the fuck did I end up here?” I studied gender studies and political science at university. I’m a feminist. And yet, my life is VERY trad wife coded.

If the kids need anything - I’m the one who organises it. From birthday parties, to the right size clothes in the right seasons, to doctors appointments, to knowing what foods they’ll currently eat. That’s on me.

I am the unspoken keeper of all treasures.

If someone needs to know where pink bunny is - ask mum. If someone needs a bandaid1, it’s mum who keeps them stocked. If someone will only wear one specific tracksuit, it’s mum who makes sure it’s washed and dried at the end of each day.

I know I could delegate more. I should. But that feels like another job for me. And not just one extra job, but many extra jobs: noticing, assigning, reminding, following up etc.

I guess what I’m getting at is, rather than getting me a token present for Mother’s Day, I would very much like systems in place in my everyday life that truly make me feel peaceful and supported. And when I say peace I don’t mean a one off massage. I mean systems that mean I’m not the default parent for everything. I want shared responsibility that doesn’t require me to initiate it or manage it. I want space in my day that is actually mine - not borrowed or negotiated or filled with catch up tasks.

However, if systemic change isn’t on offer this Mother’s Day, then I want something else entirely.

And since this is the Anti-gift guide we’re just going to assume that there is no budget:

1. Starting at the top of my wish-list: A sauna. In our garden. One that’s big enough for me to lay down in. Why the hell not? A little private room for mummy to recharge her social, emotional and physical battery for 15 minutes a day. A room that is not safe for children.

2. Send me off on a wellness retreat. Bonus points if it’s somewhere tropical. I want someone else to make my decisions for me. Tell me what to eat, how to move and when to sleep.

3. Put me in a hotel room for a weekend (with a girlfriend - we’re all tired!!!) Maybe make the hotel be in Paris. Oui?

4. Send me to a cottage in the wilderness with an open fireplace and good food within walking distance. Let me only pack books and marshmallows and pjs.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for the trinkets, and I love the homemade art. But babe, I’m tired. I’m tired of being the expert when it comes to the kids. I’m tired of being the competent parent who just handles whatever comes my way. The resentment I used to feel when Andy would leave the house to go to work and I was trapped at my work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week: no holiday, definitely no sick days, and somedays, in those early days: no toilet or lunch breaks either.

I remember sitting up one night breastfeeding my son, and thinking, my husband will NEVER know what it means to be a mother. No man will ever know. And because they don’t know it, I’m not convinced they fully value it.

And that’s why I don’t want a fancy candle and some bath salts. Because no matter how fancy they are, they feel insincere and insignificant. Like throwing some money at us and something shiny one day a year is adequate compensation for all that we do and all that we’ve sacrificed? Like we’re so starved for recognition that we’ll take those crumbs and call it a feast.

No thank you.

If you want to know what I want for Mother’s Day this year, it’s simple:

Give me change or give me a fucking break.

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Thank you for entertaining me and reading this post. This one feels particularly vulnerable for me to share - not only because I am using real names and real faces and real life examples, but also because I know that the internet is a strange and wild place, and once I publish it I don’t have any control over how it’ll be received.

All I can say is, that when I sat down to write this, it absolutely poured out of me, so I know I needed to write it, and in sharing it, I’m hoping maybe it’s something someone also needed to read.

If you have a friend who is a new mother, or a daughter, or a sister who is, or a colleague, please feel free to send this to them. Motherhood can feel very lonely and sometimes connection can be as simple as sending them an article that shows them that 1) you see them and 2) that there are other mothers out there in the world who are also grappling with these big feelings.

Sending all mums huge love and congratulations for doing the hardest job I’ve ever known.

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