I haven’t blogged for ages and ages, because I have nothing to say really. Unless people are interested in ‘Cray shit I hear via work’ blogs, in which case hit me up.
I can’t really write about how I am ~ded on the inside~ or anything to do with my children anymore. Because, reasons. Mainly because I don’t want to, but there are privacy implications too.
However. I CAN write about my obsession with what I look like, and how I basically live for vlogs and hauls. The hauls. Oh my, the hauls.
Bottom line, I would be all over vlogging myself if I could. The lighting in my room is shite, and my netbook wouldn’t allow for srs editing, and the last time I did any video editing was circa 2002 when I was doing Media Studies AS, and I gather things have moved on since the days of yore.
(As an aside, my ex is an editor and has an amazing camera. I believe it’s…a…Canon? Oh, the irony).
I digress. I love vlogs. This obsession started a few months back, one Sunday evening, when I was hungover as all hell. I just wanted someone to say soothing things to me and brush my hair. Unfortunately, my boyfriend and I don’t (yet) live together, so I couldn’t demand he do this, and I was putzing about on Twitter anyhow. I came across Charlotte Taylor, who blogs over at http://www.writelikenooneswatching.com/ . I’ve been following Charlotte for a while, but my creepy stalker (don’t hate) led me to her YouTube page and, ah, it was just what I needed. Lovely chat about slap that goes on yer face. Saw me right, it did.
AND NOW I CAN DO MY EYEBROWS! AND CONTOURING! Sort of. I make my boyfriend watch me contour, I think it’s his favourite bit of my slap routine cos of the fishyfacepout which is necessary when trowling it on. I used to go mad for really lairy colours (UV rave dayglo eyeshadow , my signature look in 2006. Never forget.) but I have moved away from turquoise eyeliner and glitter, and now get excited about BRUSHES and PALETTES ( the Mac 266 brush for eyebrows , and the Urban Decay Naked 3 palette are on my wishlist for next payday)
I don’t use makeup to totally change my face now that I am of advancing years, I just do it to make me look like me…but better (cringe face). I think the mentally healthy amongst us call this ‘progress’ or ‘growth’. I have arrived at this ‘meh, I’ll do’ way of thinking by realising that…this is as good as I’m gonna get, folks! No, really. There is no point dieting my way to a size 8 (erm lol) because, this is my body, this is what I look like, and it’s not that bad. Nice. Good, even. I look the way I do because A) I’ve had two children, B) I love scran, all scran and C) I don’t go to the gym and spend a lot of time lying about in bed laughing at my own wit and hilarity, and taking selfies.
I have no business in wearing low cut jeans, because I have, ahem, love handles (someone loves them, I think) and I spent my entire time hoiking them up and feeling crap about myself. I wear high waisted ones, and now I actually like wearing jeans. Cropped tshirts? I think the ship has SAILED on that front. I think the expression is ‘know yourself’, and I know myself. I know that I am a bit overweight, and have cellulite (holla!) and stretchmarks (because, cake and babies) and hobbit type feet. But I also know that I have short hair because it looks banging on me. I can’t say that I love myself, oh my days no. It’s not like I preen in front of the mirror for hours doing a Jonny Bravo (I do preen a fair bit though, especially in my boyfriend’s office for some reason. It’s like a Pavlovian response, sorry bae) but I am accepting of the way I look, and happy. I definitely couldn’t have said that 15 years ago. Or 10 years ago. I could have said it at 22-23, but it was the total opposite from thereon in.
So anyway. The above was meant to serve as a sort of introduction, because I want to start doing words about other, possibly more, shallow things. More shallow than writing about my mental health, or the relationship I have with my children. But. I like makeup, and I like YouTube and I am all over Monthly Favourites. So that is what I will do.
*I wasn’t sponsored for this post, by any of the named individuals or brands. I just rate them. Safe.