My Inner Bride.

I’ve wanted to do a relationship post for a while but until now, I wasn’t sure how to write it without either sounding like one of those blissfully happy folk I’ve spent years mocking, or risking my boyfriend finding it, reading it….and dumping me swiftly after. To be honest, I’m still not entirely sure how to go about it, but I’m going to give it a shot.

As a little girl, I never wasted my time wearing tablecloths on the back of my head or having mock wedding ceremonies with my friends in the back garden. Nor was I the inspiring child who confirmed from an early age that I didn’t need a boy to make me happy. I was just a child. Doing normal childlike things. There was no time for fantasising about my future wedding when there were dolls to be played with/rollerblades to be rolled on/spaghetti hoops to be eaten.

Nowadays though, as a 20 something in a long term relationship, I feel like the time has come to put down the spaghetti hoops and pick up the bridal magazine. Okay - not quite… but I am getting closer, and that scares me a little! I try not to fill my head with visions of a ring, a dress, an aisle, a house, a bump… because the whole scenario almost seems silly to me and my life. That doesn’t mean that I don’t do it though; far from it. With so many television programmes documenting the do’s, dont’s, dresses and dramatics of a wedding, they are dangling the matrimonial carrot right above our very noses…and I can only resist for so long before I bite.But hang on there bride buddies! Switch the telly off. Step away from the wedding favours. Aren’t we forgetting something here? It’s all good fun picking every final detail for your perfect day…but you’ll only get so far without a groom. If he so much as spies a magazine cutting of a dress, a castle…even a cake with more than two tiers, and runs for the hills, you’ll have bigger problems than choosing napkin rings. 

So here’s my question; when you see yourself saying I do…does he? How much do we trust the stability of our relationships before he’s popped the question and wrapped you up in a security blanket of marital bliss? Should we try to stop ourselves from imagining a future with the person we love just incase we end up getting hurt? I don’t think so. Perhaps a question more daunting than wondering if you’ll find someone to one day tie the knot with, is that of knowing you’ve found someone…but wondering if he wants to tie his knot with you. Maybe he is the one. Maybe we marry the second one. Maybe the the third one. Or the tenth one. All I know is, if we’re truly happy now…maybe we should enjoy what we have, hide any and all wedding porn in a secret stash under the bed and keep these bridal thoughts as our dirty little secret…

x

My Savings.

Football is a terrible, terrible sport. Football… makes me shop.

There was a game on last night with a pitch and men and a ball and… whatever. So I amused myself by having a browse on Asos – as you do – and before half time, much to my boyfriend’s disgust, I had packed my Save For Later list with £600 worth of clothes, shoes and bags.

Save for later – now isn’t that a beautiful thing? I love that they don’t call it a Wish List, like so many other websites. The phrase ‘Save For Later’ just feels like I’m making a promise to the item – a promise that I’m coming back for the little guy, even if it takes a while … a promise that can’t, and shan’t, be broken.

Oops.

I wish I could say that I use it to collect whatever tickles my fashion fancy, only to mull over my decisions later and remove everything after putting it down to “impulse buying”. However, this is not the case. Before I know it, I find myself making up a number of ridiculous scenarios in my head about when I would need said item, in a desperate attempt to justify the purchase.

 For example – I probably don’t need the floor length, ball gown-esque Grecian style maxi dress as we move into Autumn. But then I, somewhat frantically, start to think about why I DO need it. What if a friend gets married and I need a dress to wear? Oh wait, none of my friends are even engaged. But what if I make a NEW friend, who IS engaged and SHE invites me to her wedding? Before you know it you’ve created an entirely fictional character and married her off just for the sake of purchasing a dress that you know you don’t need.

At this point, when I’m breaking out in cold sweats and questioning my own sanity, there’s really only one thing for it…

Save For Later.

Dress – I'll see you next week.

Ps – I am available for any and all upcoming nuptials. Guest, ringbearer, reverend – I'm easy, as long as I can wear my new dress.

x

Last Night.

There I go again, wearing that “do I look fat in this?” expression in every single photo from the night out. It looks a bit like this; sucked in tummy, shoulders back, one leg crossed over the other, arm fixed on hip…and sheer concentration behind the eyes. Now don’t get me wrong, after a few jars on a Saturday night you’re more likely to get photos of me on the floor with my dress tucked into my pants, but at the beginning of the night I do make a valiant effort to look nice.

Image: Pinterest

I’m not one of those girls who turn every night out into a photo shoot, but on this occasion I was keen to have some photos while I was still in a semi-coherent state, even if it did call for numerous toilet trips for hair checks, de-smudging of eyeliner and re-applying of lipstick. However, as the night goes on and the alcohol takes its tole one must be careful not to over indulge…looking back at photos of yourself with enough bronzer on your cheeks to stock an entire Benefit counter do NOT fond memories make. Trust me. 

Checking my reflection and feeling confident that all three of my heads were looking preened I strut back out into the club to find my friends had cornered a photographer to snap us. Before I reach the table I am already reciting the stance in my head; tummy…shoulders….leg - and as soon as the photo has been taken I’m quick to snatch the poor unsuspecting photographers camera to check the photo. After seeing the photo, much to my friends’ annoyance, I demand another be taken and really get my head in the game this time. Tummy…shoulders….leg….arm - the attempt to make it seem like a casual stance can be exhausting at times. But behold! Second times a charm and the photographer is sent on his way. Looking back now, I stand by my decision to push for another photo; come the end of the night, we decided to encapsulate the moment in a keyring for all eternity. The thought of reaching for my keys every time I unlock my door and having to see my little misplaced, chubby arm and half shut eyes…I could never forgive myself.

Another hot spot for club photo shoots seems to be toilets nowadays. Toilets. Where we go to urinate. Am I missing something here? Maybe its the perk of having a mirror to perfect your facial expression for the next big Facebook profile picture, but when you look back on that photo and notice a girl in the background emerging from a cubicle with vomit down her cheek, you’re going to wish you took it at the bar.

Am I alone in this ridiculous behaviour? Surely not. I comfort myself in thinking that the majority of girls are in the same frame of mind on a big night out, but maybe I just need to put the camera down in favour of the jagerbomb once in a while. After all, everyone knows the inevitable end of night pants photo is coming…might as well give the people what they want, right?

x