2021: Remembering the good

Hi, how are you?

As is traditional for me, it’s been a while. 

There’s no particular reason, and I’m fine, truly I am, but I feel like I’m on autopilot. As I have felt for most of this year to be honest. 

I say this at the conclusion of every year as it passes, but seriously where has this year gone??

Cynically chatting about 2020 and the bleak reality of a lockdown Christmas with

my friends could have happened yesterday. And yet here we are, 365 days later. 

Of course, amidst the grey days, there have been moments of brilliance too. Moments where I’ve really appreciated life and how thankful I am for every aspect of it. Seeing people irl for the first time in a long time, or ever. Going back to the cinema. Listening to a new album from start to finish. Trying to pronounce wines I can’t pronounce. Walking without purpose. Getting on a train and inevitably losing my ticket. Speaking to strangers. Feeling things again like nothing had changed. 

Anyway, I wanted to write something before the year is out, basically as a reminder of these sparkly joyous little things. Because looking at them altogether, they actually amount to quite a big thing. 

I hope you have a wonderful festive season and New Year. Here’s to those moments of happiness; there’s plenty more to come. 

Lots of love, Georgia xxx

These photos are by the wonderful Martin J Sylvester on a much warmer Manchester day. Go and check him out on Instagram. 

 

FYI, You're so much more than what you look like

 

My own self image has always been a bit of a strange topic for me. How I see myself has been a bit of a rollercoaster throughout the years, and whilst the steep drops and loop-the-loops are now few and far between, that doesn’t mean I’m not faced with a sharp turn every now and then. Especially when faced with my own reflection more than I’d like.

I’m not talking about the hall of mirrors (don’t worry, that theme park metaphor died in the last paragraph), but rather, being at home more than we usually would be. Eighteen months or so in fact, give or take. The quick glance at yourself in the hallway mirror on the way out has grown into the peering at your thumbnail in the corner of every Google hangout to make sure you still look engaged after two hours. The insta pressure to make sure your pals know you’re having a good time 24/7. The scrolling, scrolling and more scrolling before checking your front camera and feeling sad that you don’t have a chance in hell of ever looking like that girl you don’t even know. Told you it was a rollercoaster.

I’ve been told to stop worrying about what I look like, to stop thinking about what others think, and to stop letting my insecurities about my appearance get in the way. Because oh boy, do those insecurities get in the way. And the funny thing is, you and I know they’re not even real. Not really. The only thing giving them life and allowing them to breathe are the big corporations which continue to capitalise off of them. Lips too thin? Plump them. Eye bags too big? Conceal them. Skin not smooth, radiant or youthful enough? You’re going to need at least five different creams. That’ll be £782 please. Imagine if we just stopped buying things the patriarchy told us to buy because we simply don’t need them? Anarchy. 

And yet, even though I know all of this, I still feel that incredible pressure to conform. To fit in. To look a certain way. And sure, a lot of that I do for myself - make up, clothes, hair, skin care etc. - but there is a part of me which does wonder, is it really for me? Or is it just my own internalised male gaze?  I could literally write a whole book on this; the theory that even when we’re alone,  everything we do is subconsciously just to serve the male point of view. A harrowing and depressing thought, but an intriguing one none the less. (For the record, when I’m dressing up at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon to make a Halloween outfit reel, I’m pretty sure that is for me and me alone. No man, or woman tbh, wants to see me in yet another £5 eBay wig.) 

So where do we go from here? Whilst I don’t think there’s really a clear cut and dry answer, I do think awareness is a good starting point. Simply being more conscious of the reasons why you’re doing things and being safely assured in the knowledge that the sole purpose of you and your body extends far beyond what you look like. You’re so, so much more than that. 

It’s been a while since I wrote a proper blog post so please excuse the above tangential ramble (let’s be honest, what’s new?) I’m interested in talking more personally about a couple of things around this topic, body image etc, but always end up chickening out. Do people want to read that kind of thing? If anything, I guess it would be a cheap alternative to therapy for me. 

Anyway, I hope you’re all doing well, keeping safe and staying sane. Sending love xxx

Fields of gold

Hi, hello. Happy Saturday. Just checking in to see how you are. 

I don’t know about you, but at the moment I sort of feel like I’m drifting between one thing and the next. Things still feel up in the air. Time seems to be rushing by and I’m struggling to grasp it. How on earth it will soon be October I do not know. I feel like New Year’s was last week. 

Thankfully over the past couple of days I’ve been able to escape and spend some time in one of my favourite places. You know that overwhelming wave of familiarity and comfort you feel when you make a return trip somewhere you know and love? That, a lot. It served as a much needed reminder that things are still there, just as we left them.  

Anyway, here are some thoughtful photos from simpler times with the lovely Lewis Baker. I hope you’re doing OK and I promise I won’t leave it so long next time. Love, Georgia.  

Being creative: missing the magic

When I was younger, I used to carry a notebook with me wherever I went. Shopping centres, supermarkets, the dentist or my weekly ballet class; no matter what the occasion, odds are I would have been clutching a notebook close to my chest. And probably a couple of scented gel pens - remember those?!

I would treat this book like a prized possession - and by 'book', I mean 'books', plural. I had stacks and stacks of them. Filled with absolutely everything and anything. Ideas, drawings, poems, lists, and perhaps most importantly of all, stories. To me, back then, stories were everything. I'd spend car rides watching the hills, streetlamps and bus stops streak past, telling my parents how fairies might be flitting between them. I'd dream of ways to describe the colour of the evening light streaming into my bedroom, and the patterns it made on my ceiling. For every fleeting moment of magic, I had to get it down on paper, because at the time, that's what those words truly felt like: magic. 

I know what you're thinking - why on earth has she gone off on this somewhat nostalgic/self indulgent tangent?

Because I miss it. I miss the feeling of being creative, just for me. Not to post on my timeline or share on my stories, but just because I want to. Writing was always incredibly personal for me, something I did for myself without the pressure of wondering what anyone else would think. When my last job relied on my ability to string sentences together, some of that magic got lost.

Over the weekend, I took these photos after watching a Tiktok tutorial on photography 'hacks' - I feel like the oldest person in the world typing that sentence, believe me.  I've been binging Hollywood on Netflix, and I'd just gotten a little carried away in the wonder and cinematic glamour of the show. Whilst the #BTS did not reflect this - phone torch and toilet roll holder anyone - I really had the best time creating something simply for the joy of creation. It just happened to be a bit of a fluke that I didn't hate the way they turned out.

If you take away anything from this, remember that productivity has multiple definitions, depending on what you're hoping to "produce". Whether that's a 10,000 page novel or photos that you took in your bathroom, taking that time to do something for yourself can often be much more rewarding in the long run.

Do you ever create things just for yourself?

Stay safe,

xxx

Sail away

top - Wild Room Tees

trousers and trainers - (old) Primark

So here we are - another day, another blog post. And the strangeness continues.

I've referenced the ongoing 'strangeness' quite a lot recently; as an opener to emails, phone conversations and even just chatting to my parents. It's a good way of acknowledging the situation without having to actually acknowledge it.

Staying inside has definitely brought with it mixed feelings. Gratitude for the most part. I've felt incredibly lucky to be able to work from home, have extended time to myself, and the luxury of my parents' kitchen cupboards. Thinking about applying for the next series of Masterchef as I type.

However, whilst I am, quote unquote, a fairly introverted person, I really do miss having the option of venturing beyond the front porch.  I miss being able to escape from my own head, just in the safety of knowing I have that freedom.

Being at home also comes with its own smaller challenges, that when faced with everyday can quickly become something more... noticeable. One example being faced with your own reflection more often than usual. Whether it's a Google Hangout video call or having to walk past the big mirror every time you go to the kitchen to make another cup of tea, having to look at your face for a larger portion of the day is not always ideal - particularly when the relationship with your appearance isn't the best (we're just about on speaking terms).

Another - perhaps more obvious thing - is cabin fever. Whether you're riding this out alone or with flatmates or family, emotions are running high and tempers are fraught. Seemingly tiny problems can quickly escalate into full blown door slamming disasters, ones which only the kettle seem to be able to solve. If you're from the UK you might be able to relate to this - I don't think I've ever appreciated tea bags more in my entire life. I don't even know if I like tea anymore, I just know it's the glue that's holding our household together.

Of course, whilst these molehills are there, they really are molehills - this isn't going to last forever.

Right now, all I'm thinking about is how brilliant it will be when we can do everything we want to do, and even the things we don't want to do - it's bizarre how much I miss public transport, overcrowded shopping centres and disproportionately priced drinks.

Perhaps most of all, I'm looking forward to seeing my favourite people without having to rely on wifi. If anything, this has made me realise the things, or people, I really value. Also prosecco. Honorary mention.

What are you most looking forward to when 'normal' life resumes?

Stay safe.

xxx

photos by the fab @satish.ports

Do you feel like an imposter?

A few days ago, I saw this tweet:

Remember at school when you would press 'demo' on the electric piano and pretend you were really playing it? Well that's what adulthood is but all the time and in every situation

— TechnicallyRon (@TechnicallyRon) February 12, 2020

I don't think anyone has been able to sum up adulthood better.

Adulthood is a weird thing.

I remember being 12 years old, and seeing older girls flit about in their teens and early twenties. They had jobs, houses, they were in relationships - I remember thinking "wow, they really have everything together."

I definitely wasn't someone that wanted to grow up, but I was always reassured in the knowledge that when I got to that stage, I too would have everything together. Right? For some reason, I thought that once I reached a certain age, my adult mind would suddenly just click into action. I'd suddenly understand taxes, mortgages, the inner workings of the government. I thought I'd know my career path and what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. If you can sense a 'however' coming, you would be right.

The years came and went, but still - nothing.

Of course, I learnt a lot; you don't get from 12 to your twenties without life throwing a few lessons your way.  But I still didn't really know what I was doing.

Even though looking at me from the outside, you'd think I was putting on a fairly good show (thank you drama GCSE). And I guess I can't be alone in that. When someone at work asks me my opinion on something I'm definitely not qualified to answer, you can bet I'll still give it a good shot. But moments like that make me wonder if I'm alone in winging it; does anyone really have a clue?

It's weird how much time we spend worrying about whether we're good enough. Rather than the focus being on what we have achieved, our thoughts center on what we haven't. Maybe it's time to change that.

To be honest, self-doubt is something I'm probably never going to rid my mind of. But I can seek reassurance in that most of us are in this boat; whilst it might be prone to leaks and have a tendency to veer off course, a lifetime of smooth sailing would be boring wouldn't it?

Have you experienced imposter syndrome?

Photos by the lovely @szeyuin

Why should you go charity shopping?

blazer - Oxfam Bold Street

top - Primark

jeans - H&M

boots & bag - ebay

necklaces - Neck on the Line

 My first charity shopping experience was during a rainy lunch hour in Sixth Form. I'd become firm friends with a girl who was several ranks above me in the style stakes and who always blew me away with her outfit choices. You know that person in your friendship group that just has a knack of putting the best outfits together? That was her.

Naturally I had to know where all of these amazing pieces were coming from; from the vintage silk shirt to the oh-so-gorgeous western boots, I longed to discover how I too could create a wardrobe which would match the likes of hers. 

The simple answer? Charity shopping. Since then I am yet to look back.

As well as enabling me to find completely original pieces for a fraction of the price, opting for vintage items promotes sustainability and, in the long term, is of course much better for the planet.

Did I mention you can find genuine designer items for literally under £10? Harvey Nicks eat your heart out. 

Have you tried charity shopping?

xxx

photos by the fab Ben Kirby 

Practice what you preach

                                                      

OK so I wrote a whole post on the above subject. Long and rambling with overcomplicated words, semantic anomalies and metaphors that even I couldn't even keep track of - what else is new?

Turning genuine aspects of my personality into dissertation style essays might seem simply inkeeping with the style of this blog, but upon closer inspection, it is simply a way of detaching myself. Rather than grappling with the issue head on, I'll tend to distance myself from it - whether it be in real life or on the webpage which you're currently scrolling through.

Anyway - my desperation to overlook troubling elements of my subconscious aside - the point of this post really boils down to my inability to follow my own advice.

As someone who is reasonably down-to-earth, it seems odd that whilst I'm able to give fairly coherent and sensible words of wisdom to others, I'm categorically unable to follow said advice myself. 

Of course, I realise this is something that most of us will struggle with at one time or another. The advice we give to others will more than often be from a neutral or objective standpoint, meaning that we're able to offer a fresher perspective. However, as key stakeholders in our own lives, taking on board that same wisdom in the very same way can be incredibly challenging, largely because we don't have the luxury of neutrality. We spend hours overthinking our options, whether they be mundane or lifechanging , and once we get inside our own heads the doubt which falls on the so-called 'rational' choice can become overwhelming. 

That leaves us in somewhat of a dilemma where decision making is concerned. How can we ever really practice what we preach when our (read:my) own self-doubt tells us otherwise?

As a chronic overthinker, sometimes the best thing to do is to take a step back altogether. Realise the difficulties in listening to one's own advice and seek someone else's. They'll often surprise you by raising a point you hadn't even considered, or radically change your perspective just by phrasing something a little differently. Tiny nuggets of wisdom from those around you can help to build a much clearer picture of the whole situation - especially when compared to the chaotic image in one's own mind. 

Of course, as friends will tell you, the decision is ultimately in your own hands. Guidance and advice can be shared, but the finality of the choice usually lies with the one who is making it, and I for one think that freedom is certainly something to be savoured (even if it is v.scary when thought about for too long).

Can you follow your own advice?

xxx

(photos by the wonderfully talented Sam Fisher)