SELF PORTRAIT

Scroll through your Facebook newsfeed and all of your ‘friends’ will have you believing that they moonlight as part-time models. Striking poses. Smizing. Be it the classic ‘conveniently-and-perfectly-catch-the-light’ beauty shot, or the ‘I’m-so-geeky-that-I’m-actually-cool’ goofy face. In the trendiest get-up. Looking as though they rock around with a hair brush / barber always primed to step up.

And that’s great. All of that is good, clean fun. It feels great to show the world an image of yourself at your best. Look good – feel good: a perfectly justifiable aphorism. But something occurred to me, then that idea nestled in and really got me thinking.

And there was a very particular prompt.

I got home from work, after the 1hr and 20minute journey. I helped my mum tend to my baby niece and nephew, getting them ready for their dad to come and pick them up. I prepared and ate some dinner. I made myself a cup of tea. And then I finally sat down on the edge of my bed, kicked off my winter boots and tied up my hair. Then I glanced in my full length mirror and caught sight of the image of me.

What I saw was... well, me. Unpreened. No touch ups. Not even a quick swipe of Carmex. Just me, after a long day. Me, mentally mapping out how I was going to spend the rest of the evening. Me, quietly living, in a way that’s only truly possible when you are completely unobserved. The young woman that exists beneath the daily beauty routine and wardrobe raid and seemingly sunny disposition. And as I caught sight of that image, one phrase landed in my mind with a gentle thump. ‘Self Portrait’.

Go to the National Portrait Gallery, and the self portraits will fail miserably on a Facebook Profile Pic checklist. It’s all straight faces and no make-up. Missing ears and mere hints of a smile. I think there is a good reason for this. I think these images present an acute honesty. An upfront portrayal. A true portrait.

So I can’t help but think that Instagram filtering, a perfectly coiffured Brazilian weave and expertly applied red lipstick don’t have quite the same end result. Not even close. So who is it that your Facebook avatar says that you are? And how far is the disparity between that, and the You sat in the edge of your bed?

Food for thought I suppose, in true pensivebuddha style.

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ABSOLUTELY

When I was young I tried to teach myself to write with my left hand. One summer, I decided that I may as well spend my 6 weeks learning something new as my play-date schedule was... pending. I’d learned at some point that lefties tended to be more creative, and were more disposed to falling into the genius category. That sounded like a worthwhile pursuit.

The fact that I was learning it, rather than my motor skills naturally selecting it, wasn’t important. Genius does come naturally, indeed, but learning to read and write certainly helps things along, was my thought process.

This memory assaulted me as I let my mind wonder while at my desk, searching for an inspiring way to make some product description copy seem interesting. In the latter pursuit, I most likely failed. But this memory made me wonder at myself. I wondered at the type of person that I was. Or am. I found myself so thoroughly impressed at my own total belief, that one thing would absolutely lead to another. That learning this new skill would absolutely stimulate the recesses of my brain into churning out some genius.

And so it is that I learnt something about myself, from myself. That to merely believe something to be so, doesn’t necessarily make it materialise. But that you’ll likely find that your goals feel much closer once you’ve dispensed of doubt and disbelief and all those other time consuming barriers. A simple, temperate belief almost brings you halfway. After all, why waste time doubting, when you could be practicing writing your name with your non-dominant hand.

KONY 2012, HATS OFF

Right. I’m no activist. And I usually make a point of refraining from commenting on things that are hot in the media – not really my style. I don’t need a soap box to say how I feel about things, and social-media-frenzy is exactly the kind of soap box that I try to avoid. Like the plague.

But I’ve been drawn out of my usual silence by all the BS circulating around Facebook and the like. Namely, about Kony 2012.

So I was sent the video by an old mate – I haven’t spoken to her face-to-face in a good while, so for her to post something directly on my wall with a personal message (which included my name, adding precious seconds to her chain-posting session no doubt – I appreciated the effort), I was intrigued enough to watch the thing.

Half an hour later, I re-posted with the comment: “I guess Facebook is actually good for something. powerful stuff - the utility of fame.” An hour later, I realised that the thing had gone truly viral. Now when I re-posted, I knew full well that I wasn’t immediately going to do any more research on the matter and that it was very unlikely that I was going to donate or buy a kit. So I re-posted thinking that perhaps someone else might be moved to. I was shocked to find that I knew nothing of this full-blown crazy, and I was engaged by the concept of pimping out the concept of fame for something more than fuelling the messed up concepts of celebrity and idolising people for having shiny teeth and getting paid too much. Aside from feeling sad about the fact that life seems to work at making some people’s lives so epically difficult, I kind of drew a line under it.

Then. Everyone pulled out their ‘I’m a social expert / activist / my opinion has the same weight as GOD’ hats. And to those people, I just want to say that you may want to calm the fuck down. Everyone who is upset about the fact that it’s a white man heading the campaign – calm down. You’re not allowed to be that upset if you knew about Kony at the height of his regime some 20 odd years ago, and still did nothing. And if you didn’t know about the LRA until this campaign – calm down. You obviously weren’t looking to find out about it in your spare time. And all those saying that it’s all a political conspiracy – you guessed it, calm down. Appreciate the fact that the IC project is raising awareness – which was exactly the aim. Yes it was a video with good production and neat editing – would it be more real and gritty if he held the camera with his feet?

All you clowns hating, pipe down. We’re all talking about it now. Perhaps it will lead to some good, whether through IC or through all the other groups that have been working for the improvement of life in Uganda, and which have now also been brought to light. All the better.

And kindly stop telling me to think, please. I am, otherwise I’d be a lemon.

LFW OUTFIT DIARY #5

Top - Zara (yes, I'm Zara's bitch)

Jeans - Zara (see above)

Shoes - Zara (ha!)

Hello, my name's Zara's Bitch. Pleased to meet you... And I am not ashamed! That said, I reckon it's a hugely under-rated store, which works for me, as it means that the rest of the world is prostituting themselves over at Topshop and H&M.

So here's what I wore on day 5. And we are nearing an end. Now today (Wednesday) is Menswear day at LFW. And as I tend not to dabble in that department at most stores, I may call it a day with this installement. And what fun it’s been!

I hope you’ve all had a fabulous fashion week faithful readers/viewers. Keep the creativity flowing. It’s more fun that way.

Images courtesy of the Thomas Cook stairwell, and the amazing Eleanor Farmer.

LFW OUTFIT DIARY #4

Dress - vintage

Shoes - Topshop

Fridge - courtesy of Thomas Cook

Day 4! Now I considered keeping things consistent by taking these pics in the same place each day. But where's the fun in that? So here's one of the kitchen's at work. Yep!

N.B. Pictures taken by the amazing Eleanor Farmer. She is indeed  a real life photographer - but we're working with a camera phone and aweful light here, so don't you judge her!

LFW OUTFIT DIARY #3

Now. Day three of LFW happened to fall on a Sunday, and I'll be honest - I prefer not to leave my house on Sundays. In fact, I'll go as far as to say that I like to wear a pair of pyjamas and a warm pair of socks for as much of the day as possible, accounting for the time taken for a shower and putting on a new set. And praise to the Lord on high, that's exactly what I did this Sunday! And oh!, it was good.

So I'm afraid that this is all that there is to report. And to all my brothers and sisters in arms (Pj's and socks), I salute you.

LFW OUTFIT DIARY #2

Sleeveless cardigan - Zara

Black body-con skirt - vintage

Boots - H&M

So, installment two! I decided to be an actual young person and go out on Saturday night, rather than sit up in bed and read my book. And was it an adventure! My gorgeous sister and I went to Covent Garden's Tamarai Restaurant and Club. And to be honest, you might do well to avoid it. After we were told to go and wait outside in the cold or pay £10 immediately, as the rest of our party had not yet arrived, the DJ apparently lost his bag that contained all of his music that was made in the last 10 years.

But against all odds, we had a great time! I guess 90’s and early noughties classics, plus a couple of glasses of rose are just the ticket for a good ol’ time. Take note for next Saturday dear readers.