This was only supposed to be a post about glittery jumpers. But one of the best things about blogging – and being your own editor – is that you can go off course and write about things that really matter to you. Not that glittery jumpers don’t matter, clearly they do.
I bought this particular jumper because it felt like the kind of thing I’d need this winter. It’s yellow and grey, which I love, and it also sports a large tinsel stripe. Because we all need a glittery go-faster stripe in November, don’t we? I know I do.
I took these photos on a drizzly day when I was feeling decidedly under-the-weather. Dressing to match my cup of lemon Lepsip felt like the only solution. A jumper like this is warm and cosy – a walking duvet – but it also has the potential to let you fake it till you make it. Like painting on a smile.
No one will notice you feel ill, because they’ll be too distracted by the tinsel on your front. Or if they do, they’ll still admire your cheerful taste in jumpers. It’s tempting to hide away when you feel under-par, but try the opposite and you might actually feel a bit better for it.
Which got me thinking about how we’re always worrying about what other people think, when really we’re our own worst critics.
We all have things we don’t like about our appearance. When you write a blog and take a lot of photos of yourself you get used to niggling feelings of doubt. I have a long list, but mostly I worry about my teeth and my wonky eyes. My eyes, the legacy of a severe childhood squint, rarely face in the same direction in photos. But after two corrective surgeries, they’re probably not going to get any better. And they’re really not that bad, they probably just give me a permanently quizzical look.
My teeth are my other weakness. A childhood accident left me missing one front tooth. I now have a crown there and it’s an unappealing shade of greige. As a child I used to hate how it looked enough to put my hand over my mouth every time I laughed. It’s only recently that I’ve felt brave enough to even smile with my mouth open.
We say horrible things to ourselves that we’d never dream of saying to other people.
In my head I regularly call myself fat, squinty-eyed and generally hideous. This isn’t a pity-party – I’m not looking for praise, or flattery. What I’m trying to say is that the best way to combat these uneasy feelings is to accept your imperfections for what they are. To own them, in Millenial-speak. We all have a story to tell, and our little scars and imperfections make it worth telling. Oh, and you’re almost certainly the only one who notices them anyway.
I’m not a model or a cardboard cut-out, I’m just a normal woman who likes glittery jumpers. And that’s ok.
Boots, £29.50, Marks and Spencer / Coat, White Stuff (past season)