I actually didn’t notice the loss of my sexuality, it didn’t hurt at all. And it wasn’t until recently that I noticed it had gone in the first place. And now I am rather discombobulated as I don’t know what I am anymore.
Maybe it’s because all the rest of them are boys and I have to sort of blend in so I don’t stick out like a sore thumb. It’s a camouflage thing. I hate being different. It’s also not necessarily practical being a girly. I mean I can hardly see myself feeding the chickens in my Louboutins or wearing a beautiful Roksanda Ilincic dress when I wring their necks and eviscerate them.
It’s unlikely I’ll be putting my beautifully manicured hands through the trauma of pulling bind weed or getting all dolled up for a game of tag rugby in the back garden.
But I still wonder where it all went.
In London I used to dress up every day and thought nothing of it. I had beautiful clothes which I loved to wear, high heels even, and I always wore makeup. Not much mind as I never could deal with foundation but mascara, eyeliner, a bit of lip gloss. A bit of Bronzer, a dusting of “instant health”. My hands were always clean, nails always short and neat with a bit of clear nail polish. My toenails on the other hand were always painted in an array of colours to match my outfits even if no one but me ever saw them.
I enjoyed shopping for clothes and updating my wardrobe. I loved trying things on and the heady indulgence of buying things on a whim or for an occasion and then of course there were the shoes! Oh the shoes! Russell & Bromley, Charles Jourdan, Gina, Emma Hope, it was heaven!
I dressed brightly drawn to strong colours and I revelled in the fact that with my coloring I could carry them off as well. The smart savvy little red wool business suit from Hobbs worn with a black roll top. My legs incased in long black leather jack boots. Topped off with a vibrant stripped velvet trilby hat and scarf. The amazing 1950’s style bright pink ¾ sleeve jacket and skin tight hobble skirt from LK Bennett worn with a rakish navy and white staw hat, huge sunglasses and my Gran’s white kid gloves and delectable navy kitten heels for a friend’s wedding.
Nowadays I worry about where I will get new jeans as mine are splitting at the seams and unsightly white flesh is seeping through. I bulk buy them from Sam Turners in Yorkshire as they are the only outlet I know that sell Wranglers. If I am feeling a little crazy I buy a darker shade of indigo for smart. Oh how the mighty are fallen!
I notice I now have flesh rather than a body and it doesn’t do what I thought it should still do. Now it sags. The definition between my hips, waist and boobs is somewhat hazy and I note the size differential and lopsidedness of my right hand boob is more pronounced than I remember.
My clothes are mostly made up of jumpers and sweatshirts in the winter and strangely foreshortened T-shirts in an array of colours which I inevitably have to have a shirt to cover because well I look odd. And all this is worn with the ubiquitous jeans. Boot cut in an effort to try to stay in style and to draw away the eye from the fact that my legs are rather short and stumpy and yes that huge round blob at the top is my bum. I try to stick to the rules a la Trinny and Susannah and I try to love myself as Gok says I should but it’s hopeless. I have forgotten how to be female!
17 comments:
Oh I'm right there with you Tattie. My hubby has three wardrobes, THREE! I have .5 of a wardrobe.
Our woman-ness has not been stolen, it's the TIME that's been nicked. All the other jobs take the time and the older we get the more TIME we need to big-up our girl stuff; harvesting errant hairs and titivating. I want my time back so I can titivate but when I do have time it all seems so pointless and quite frankly I'd rather be writing...
Love n a kiss.... betya gorgeous anyway. xx
Sounds like you need a date night, even if you don't actually go out. An excuse to don some heels and a frock and make yourself pretty.
I know exactly how you feel. On the extremely rare occasion when I wear one of my 2 skirts, or only summer dress, my 2 boys always comment on it. My 3 year old tells me sternly that it makes me look 'stylish' - not a good thing in his eyes! I'm not sure where he's had that from. I too am desperately in need of new jeans, but can't find any that fit or flatter. I want jeans that are not falling down my hips, (which makes them deeply uncomfortable and unflattering, revealing bulging flesh where it shouldn't be). But neither am I ready yet for the elasticated variety. Thanks for the Wrangler tip - I shall have a look.
Pop on a floaty skirt next time there is a nice breeze and go walk the dogs through a freshly cut hay field. The little lift in the skirt and the smell of the field and the running of the dogs around your legs, might inspire you to feel a bit feminine for a bit.
Or just piss you off that you didn't wear your wellies because the hay is itchy and the dogs muddy and the breeze is a hurricane.
But you had something pink and sparkly on at CyberMummy so you haven't completely forgotten.
I think that much of our days just don't lend themselves to feminie floaty anything, but at least you're aware of your shortfall. Now go out there and at least find yourself some form fitting jeans. (And a date night sounds the ticket too.)
Amen to that!! Oh, how I wish I had that wardrobe that you can open and CHOOSE lovely clothes to wear... I have to share wardrobe with Daughter as Husband has taken up the whole of the one in our bedroom with his suits and endless 80's jumpers and shirts and crap. Meanwhile I just can't don amazing clothes when hucking out chickens, or weeding or picking raspberries. Also my hair is a total mess and I have HAIRS ON MY CHIN. Christ, am a man.
HELP, TATTIE!! What shall we do??!!
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Sounds like someone is up for some retail therapy Tattie!xx
Just left a comment but think I lost it so this a brief resume - have a date night with hubby, get dressed up and pamper yourself. We need to enjoy our femininity before it becomes too droopy and saggy (oops! it's started for me already!!)
The idea suggested about a date night sounds superb!
Do NOT despair. You can still be glamorous whilst living in Suffolk, and it won't take much to beat the competition (my mother-in-law). I myself am currently preparing for life as a pig farmer's wife in bling and flowery print wellies. Sounds as if your wardrobe was much more of an arsenal than mine and I hope you've still got it - just have it let out and do the housework in it occasionally. I also find overindulging in Sparkling Shiraz and taking one's husband by surprise perks one up too.
Will be round to rifle through your wardrobe sometime.
Depends on your definition of female...throughout time, it has been the women who wrung chickens necks etc. so in an historical sense you are still the epitome of feminity. In an emotional sense you are pining for your freedom...interesting that you were pink and sparkly when you were free in London. Hell Tattie, what are you waiting for? Go wring a neck in sparkles and patent leather - it will make you smile I guarentee - just make sure it's a chicken neck not your husband....
I identify with the life in jeans and slightly misshapen t-shirts. I have made a resolution to go for colour, really bright, singing colour, even if I am still wearing jeans.
I think, seeing as we'll out- number them on the saturday we should paint all our toes including theirs and do face packs..
No i know exactly what you mean but i have bought a dress a full length one in gaudy colours i love it and "I WILL WEAR IT"you never know i may get treated less like a bloke i doubt it though xx
Ooh the first part of the blog put in material heaven...sigh I miss city dressing, and often dress up only to change again to do the weeding, dog walking, cleaning etc etc....but I am sure the sheep and coos appreciate the make up lolx
Ah, yes. I have just lusted after a velvet-trim knitted dress in the new Boden catalogue, but resisted adding it to the basket as I know I'll never wear it. Why would I? Where would I go? On the other hand another navy t-shirty top and a grey cardy will get full and regular use.
I'm with you on the dark jeans = formal wear, and also with the sighing over suits and boots of career days. So chic in a pencil skirt and kitten heels.
When I go to London now I dress up and take heels, but I am almost crying to get back to Yorkshire and my old Barbour and wellies (from Sam Turners, of course - shopping for the discerning country sartorialist!) after only two days away. Sad. But lovely too.
I vaguely remember my former Biba self and sigh ....
I was in a vintage clothes shop in London last week and the young owner was enthusing over Debenham's Forties "frock" .I felt like saying thay I wasn't THAT ancient but doubted that she'd believe me . Must have been the Ecco shoes !
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