Day 190 – Swap shop jitters
I am completely freaking out about the swap shop, it is tomorrow and everyone doesn’t seem to understand quite what it’s about, including me. The boy however seems to have a fairly good idea of what its about but he is a boy and therefore his opinion though valid is being ignored.
The difficulty is that in spite of everyone saying it will be a dreadful disaster if I don’t bring down the blog dresses, I had grand designs abo9ut selling them all off auction style at the end of the project. If I’m being perfectly honest I had hoped to put on a bit of a night, a fashion show where people could bid for what was on offer where Harborough and beyond could come along to enjoy the party. I had hoped the giant would sponsor the nibbles, the radio station could do the disk jockey type thing and that my lovely ladies from London and Manchester might even be able to make it down.
Originally I had a vision of canapés, sparkly wine and people packing in to a crowded marquee to swap clothes in a way which was as friendly as it was frenzied. Now negativity has rather kicked in and I am thinking we might be better to just book a table at our favourite restaurant in Harborough under the assumed premise that nobody will be turning up other than my close friends. The other difficulty is that Mind who is my charity partner have not really been much in touch of late. Though they are a charity it sometimes feels as though I am a little in the wind.- Today’s dress which is rather pretty was sent to me by HP and her sister. Though it is lovely it got a rather unfortunate day to be worn as I removed it after wearing it for just a few hours after I became so low that I climbed back under the covers. I had to put it back on for the drive home as the boy felt pyjamas were a step too close to crazy but I put it on reluctantly and it had a rather bad day and if anyone ever wants to bid for it I hope you will show it a better time than I did.
Day 189 – Change, because though inevitable is it really totally necessary?
The world is all about change according to the new book I am reading. The book said that change is natural and therefore resistance to it is unnatural and in turn unhealthy. The natural state of human being is perhaps then that we should be moving forward, looking to progress and searching for opportunity and fresh challenges. This then is where I fail, I hate change and find it nearly impossible to accept. When it happens I am near child like in my mind as I selfishly ask the question: “Why can’t everything just stay the same?”It has no right to do so but my heart breaks a little when any change occurs. It can be as trivial as the end of a particularly well loved series or as brutal as the end of a relationship. Life is of course a complicated matter and change can be healthy as it brings new beginnings, possibilities and opportunities. In spite of this though it is still change and therefore I like it not.
My mother has always been brilliant at change, she embraces it and whole heartedly and actually, she enjoys it! When I first went to university I think it was hard for her to understand why I was so miserable. The truth is silly but all I could think was that I loved my friends and my family and couldn’t bare the thought of finding new ones when I was perfectly happy with the old. To this extent then I perhaps need to learn to get over it as I love all the new friends I made at university and love them just as much as my even older friends.
The boy is another being who is reasonably happy with the prospect of change and has settled into life with his new house mates rather well. While at a gig this evening some friends asked the boys how the separation was going since they all went their separate ways and they all said great. Frankly I fear that the only one affected by the move is me as I was hoping they would change their mind and stay together right up until the moment the last bag was being packed. They have been living together for more than four years yet they move out with little worry whereas I have been left inconsolable after moving from homes where I have been less than a year. I am it would seem quite the odd one out. I have tried to challenge this resistance to change but in my head I love the idea of the world where my friends never had to move away, where things stayed the same and where change was a rarity rather than an inevitability. Perhaps I should have been an Amish though thanks to Channel 4 even they are no longer safe.
- Today’s dress is from New Look I believe it was given to be by my Fairy God Mother who recently became the proud Nan of a grandson called Freddie. It is a little short which I only realised when I put on the boy’s jacket when it rained on the way to their gig in Preston and could no longer see the bottom of the dress. Luckily I was wearing nice tights and shoes so hopefully they distracted from the hemline.
- For those of you who may have been confused by the above comment the tights and shoes were on while I was out and about, I admit that bare legs and flip flops do not look so great in photos but I was a little too tipsy when we got home and refused to pose for photos as I wanted to play on the Wiii.
Day 188 – Gridlock to get to the boy
When I head up to see the boy I am a little bit of a sad case. As well as singing loudly to various love struck tunes I check the clock impatiently whenever a speed camera, red light or roundabout stand in the way of my gaining an extra few minutes by his side. Traffic jams challenge my good road karma and I find myself wondering whether the traffic police would accept an explanation of “wanting to see my man” as an acceptable use for using the hard shoulder. As it is necessary for me to avoid these trails of thought my mind often gets to thinking about the two of us and all the times we’ve had together. I do my best to focus on the good to prevent myself turning up on his door step with a bee in the bonnet of my car and a positively waspish disposition.
I was completely loved up and quite close to skipping when I bumped into an old friend who I had studied with in my first year. Though it had been figuratively years since we had seen each other we had a chat, caught up and though I tried to contain it I ended up boring the poor thing by telling her about the lovely boy (the boy) who I had met. After we caught up I went along my merry way and plugged myself into my pretty pink iPod to prevent the gangs from Mothside who hang out in nearby murder park from ruining my loved up vibe.
After the boy and I got together his house mates ripped on him about the permanent smile he was walking around with. Luckily for him he resisted the temptation to skip and sing so the teasing eased off eventually but he still has the same smile which made me fall for him. We drive each other crazy but even today the thought of being with him makes this devil dreamed up traffic jam bearable. Even after the longest, hardest, saddest week I could never hope to face, it can all be endured knowing he is there at the end of it ready to make it just a little bit right with just one of those smiles.- Today’s dress is from H&M and much in the same theme of today’s post I have been saving it till I went up to see the boy. He is in his new home and it’s the first time I have seen it and I didn’t want to look a mess when I met his new house mates so I chose something that was pretty and red and rather demure. Also he is a big fan of dresses which are rather close cut so that was part of today’s dress thought process as well I guess.
Day 187 – The healing process that hurts
Though it can be an essential part of getting better there are times when counselling can be truly exhausting. There are days like today when one is already raw with all the sad at the surface where even the slightest probing can result in tears. After the wonderful fun of the festival this week has been hard work. I felt as though I was coming through it, stabilising and finding a happy medium yet this week once again I find myself flat. Perhaps I should just accept the lows as I do the highs but they are not so nice so this is harder than it sounds.
The one thing I find difficult about counselling generally is it raises the question of nature nurture. Was I born this way with a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode and leave me with this sickness or did it come about because of past events. I’m not sure but I don’t want to take any risks and I will be eternally grateful to my sister and mother for helping me to tackle this on both fronts. Hopefully one day I can leave all the past behind, stop worrying about the future and live in a now which is happy and healthy.Though it can be an essential part of getting better there are times when counselling can be truly exhausting. There are days like today when one is already raw with all the sad at the surface where even the slightest probing can result in tears. After the wonderful fun of the festival this week has been hard work. I felt as though I was coming through it, stabilising and finding a happy medium yet this week once again I find myself flat. Perhaps I should just accept the lows as I do the highs but they are not so nice so this is harder than it sounds.
The problem with counselling is that it tends to delve quite deep; all those memories that are a little to sore to be anywhere near the forefront of one’s mind get hooked up and pulled to the surface. Today was one of those days and though I was feeling a little low a few minutes in the tears came to the surface so unexpectedly that I was a little surprised myself when I noticed my face was wet. It is tiring extracting the past and seeing what affect it has on the future and by the time I have finished I am cream crackered and though it is still light outside when I get home I crawl into bed sleepy and longing for the salve of sleep.
The one thing I find difficult about counselling generally is it raises the question of nature nurture. Was I born this way with a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode and leave me with this sickness or did it come about because of past events. I’m not sure but I don’t want to take any risks and I will be eternally grateful to my sister and mother for helping me to tackle this on both fronts. Hopefully one day I can leave all the past behind, stop worrying about the future and live in a now which is happy and healthy.
Day 186 – Making the same mistake
I feel like I’m sinking a little today. It may have something to do with having such an amazing holiday and therefore a bit of flat lining was inevitable. I am starting perhaps to feel a little overwhelmed again. I’m a silly sod when it comes to trying to manage this ridiculous illness. I get better, it sometimes seems to quickly and I forget how not to become poorly again. As soon as I’m better I forget that much like a person who has had a bad flu or healed a broken bone taking it easy for a few weeks afterwards would not be such a bad plan. The trouble is that as soon as I’m well I want to get back on the horse even without first finding the stirrups, the saddle or even the riding boots.
Today when I got home from work I suddenly felt extremely conscious of the fact that once again I appear to have taken on too much. In less than five days I have an event to organise, invites to be sent out, photos to be polarised and promotion to get done. There is also I realised as I opened the post, three singles to review, seven blogs still to write and even a photo shoot still to take as the boy and I were a bit to tipsy to remember to take the pictures on Friday as we were a tad tipsy and lost in the loved up Latitude vibe.
I wish I just had the sense to say no to things. In view of the fact that it wasn’t so long ago that I was feeling borderline s word on a regular basis surely I should be trying too avoid too many stresses. Though most of the time my self esteem is not the greatest even I have to admit that my recent ability to keep up with the blog and finally feel as though I have found my footing at work is no mean feat. The problem is not even that people put things upon me I do it myself without even meaning to and before I know it I find myself in the same place, overwhelmed, overtired and making the same old stupid mistakes.
- Today’s dress is from Next and though a little cut is lovely and summery and as is always good on a dark day gives me the illusion of being brighter than I feel.
Day 185 – A shop of swapping
The first event of 365 Dresses: The Mind Project! Am very excited, all who can attend will be extremely welcome, watered and well fed.
Opportunity to get new clothes at a swap shop event
A REPORTER who has been blogging about her quest to wear a different dress every day for a whole year is holding a clothes “swap shop”.
Miss O’Neill will be selling all the dresses to raise money for mental health charity Mind.
In an attempt to bolster dress supplies she will be having a clothing swap shop on Monday (July 16) at the Oat Hill pub in Kettering Road, Harborough.
Guests will have the chance to exchange unwanted or unworn clothes and accessories with “swappers”.
To participate bring one dress, size 10-12. Entry is £3 and includes drink and cake.
Anyone wishing to take part can bring as much or as little as they like but must leave with only as many items as they brought.
The event will start at 6.30 pm though swapping wont get started till 7.30, be there early to register.
Miss O’Neill said: “I’ve been to swap shops before and they are great fun but scary if you haven’t got your wits and elbows about you.”
To find out more or to donate call 07926 959076 or go to http://www.lostinnotation.wordpress.com or follow her on twitter @lostinnotation.
- Today’s dress which looks as I have been told a little bit air hostess is from Florence and Fred. It has a great shape, tweaks in at the waist and with a blue and white vintage according to my mummy designer scarf looks quite lovely. Though you cannot see them I have matching shoes and in the right light have for the first time in my life caught a little colour on my legs, which is shallow but splendidly exciting for a person who lives in the pale.
Day 184 – Love and lorry drama on the A14
Day 183 – Why Simon Amstell made me cry on my half way day
Dear readers,
Can you believe that it has now been half a year since this project began? Discounting the two weeks which happened but are perhaps best left to blow in the winds of the past, together and apart we have read, worn and written our way through 183 dresses.
On this half way mark perhaps you would like to leave comment, what has been your favourite dress or your favourite day. My only regret to date is that there has not been more response or more debate on the actual blog itself. So many of you have wrote me, texted me or just told me about what you’ve liked and what more importantly what you haven’t which is lovely but I do wish there was more evidence of you in the posts themselves.
I chose this dress for today as though it is a little wron it was one which was given to me by the lovely people who attend a group supported by Mind in my town. I wore it to remind myself and others that there is a purpose to this project, to not only raise money for Mind but to also raise awareness of issues surrounding mental health.
When I started this project I had only recently began to come out about my own issues. For years I never talked about the depression and even when it hit I would hide myself away rather than admit to anyone close to me what was happening in my head. There were of course a very select few who knew what I was going through but they were extremely select; family, boyfriend of the time and maybe just a couple of others. Partly the shame I felt was because of bad experiences of sharing things with the wrong people who through no fault of their own could not handle it or just reacted in a way which further enforced my belief that the illness made me a bad or a broken person.
Though this year has not been a perfect one by far, the one thing that I have learnt is the more people who know the more people there are to help when things take a turn for the worst. Also it would seem that contrary to my original belief there are many people who are accepting of mental illness. It is more common than one would imagine and though I always knew this there is something quite sobering about how many people come forwards to share their own experiences. It is a common illness and though there is still a lot of shame and fear surrounding it how nice it can be that though it is adreadful illness we are not so unique in the pain that we feel.
Has this blog helped more people understand what depression and bipolar 2 is about? I don’t know, that is a question dear reader that can only be answered by you.
When I wrote the title for this blog I guess if I’m honest I was being a tad dramatic. When I went to Glastonbury with the boy we bumped into Will Young at a bar who very kindly at the request of the boy allowed me to introduce myself to him. He was totally sweet and though he was obviously there with friends enjoying a pint of cider he graciously put up with my verbal three minute assault about how much I loved his music, how lovely I thought it was and in a moment of madness how if he ever needed anything including a surrogate for his child I would be his willing vessel. Shameful I know but in spite of this he still agreed to have a photo with me and it was one of the top ten moments of my life.
Today then when I suddenly realised I was stood beside Simon Amstell I guess I was expecting a similar experience though I am not as big a fan as I am of the lovely Mr Young. Though he is rather funny dear reader when I saw him my first thought was how nice it might be for you to see a photo on lostinnotation with a real life celebrity. The boy tried to ask him politely and quite rightly I suppose he told him to shhhh due to a band being on at the time.
As I felt a little sorry for him due to our interrupting his listening pleasure I behaved myself and other than a few quiet sentences about when he had arrived and who had they; he was accompanied by a very tall man who reminded me of the giant from the Princess Bride; seen I kept my cool and even told the other lads to behave when they tried to pap him.
At the end of the show however I tried to ask him whether a photo with him might be acceptable, in as polite a way as possible or so I thought. He declined, but not so politely. As I said when I wrote the post I was being dramatic though the rejection did make me rather tearful to be fair to the guy he is probably sick to death of being approached by people and after the boy’s friend reminded me of this and more importantly told me to pull myself together I swallowed down the salt of the tears with a can of cider and we all had a bloody brilliant night out!
- The dress does not have a label but it is long and feels lovely and cool in the heat of the fields. I love my hat and though I usually find them far too childish I thought I would go with the festival flow and plait my hair. The belt was sent to me by my mysterious blog benefactor.
Day 182- Back to basics and why boys like fire
- Today’s dress is very much all about the flower power and the photos are taken under what was once the marquee. Earlier in the day we were discussing the mystery of the pyramids and the boy who enjoys winding me up about conspiracy theories suggested the aliens came down to build them theory. When we returned it seemed the aliens had again visited the earth as a giant pyramid had been built in the middle of our camp.
Day 181 – Festival fashion and a very naughty Florence albeit a nice machine
Fashion at festivals is fascinating; often it is a mix between the perfectly practical and completely idiotic. Though there is often a reason for wearing Wellington boots and; why on earth does WordPress want to capitalise Wellington, I am not referring to Wellington’s boots, there is no apostrophe gosh darn it; cagoules there can surely never be a reason for pairing them with fishnets. Though I am not a man I am pretty sure the erotic is cancelled out by the giant roomy rubber where there should by all rights be a sparkly pair of silver stilettos?
The other thing that I find confusing and adorable in equal measure is the fascination for accessories better suited to the land of Oz. There is of course the wonderful re-emergence of the cowboy hat, the beret and the top hat but equally there are hits which are better left on the stand. Though on second thought at least it helps you find your fellow festive friends while in a crowd.
The boy’s friends are equally loving the festival fashion. There are a lot of very hot girls at Latitude and thanks to the heat most of them are walking round in hot pants and bump skimming tops which reveal bronzed flat stomachs and colt like limbs. All of this eventually led to a game called Deal or No Deal. Personally I have never heard of it before but basically what it involves is whoever walks past you have to say whether they would be a deal or not a deal. I tried to grasp the concept but only said deal when I thought a man was cute and this apparently is not the point, one must test how far one’s standards could slip. In the end it confused me far too much so I slipped off to the supermarket leaving the boy free to play in my absence.
In today’s photos I have included some examples of male festival fashion. Rick is sporting chav chic which I must admit is never a look I would have considered though admittedly it works. Steve is sporting a return to retro rodeo complete with aviators. They are both single and with these looks will no doubt find themselves some ladies to serenade tonight.
Other than fashion spotting today is the day that I will see Florence and her machine play. It is ever so exciting as though there are just the three songs that I love; this the boys friends will give testament to having heard me put them on repeat a few too many times; she is meant to put on a spectacular show and I cannot wait. We see several bands today that stand out including Everything Everything who start off with a crowd just a few deep but pull the crowds forward from every corner of the arena where people waiver with their energy and fantastic lyrics. My favourite is “Whose gonna sit on your face when I’m not there” though this could just as easily be fence.
Before Florence comes on the scene I decide that a special effort must be made. She is quite the stylish lady and so as well as my sparkly spangled dress I put on some gold glitter tights. I pair them with some seven inch Kurt Geiger wedges and add a hell of a lot of eye shadow, kohl liner and bronzer.
When I return from the arena we sit under our marquee where I complain about the lack of wardrobe changes and the ill advised sheet dress. The boys laugh as though they have returned disgruntled with the lacklustre performance I am upset because she didn’t get changed enough.- I bought this dress a few years ago when the boy had a gig at Elbow’s recording studio Blueprint. It was a brilliant night but in the end I never wore this dress as we came to the conclusion that it was too fancy even for a Christmas party so went with a black wool dress with lace panelling in the front and a ruffled skirt. The first time I wore it was a year later when the boy and our friends were in Scotland for New Years. It was one of the greatest nights of my life and there are pictures from the evening of us all hanging out that I’ll treasure forever. i saved it for Florence but thinking of the last time I wore it I’m not sure if her lacklustre performance was worthy of this momentous frock.
