Staring into my wardrobe I am overcome with familiar feelings of self- loathing and despair. The kind of indulgent, all-consuming bullshit despair that you can let yourself fall into when you don’t have any big problems to deal with. I see two vacuum packed bags full of ‘skinny’ clothes from a previous life, sitting in…… Continue reading A year since giving birth and I haven’t lost a single thing.
My son often broaches big issues with me whilst we are in commute. The confines of his car seat apparently allow different thoughts to drift in and settle, rather than rebound and scatter like they usually would. This morning it was about boys and men. “Mum, little boys and mummy’s cry, but men don’t.” “Men…… Continue reading Man Of Steel
“But I loved him!” “I know you did,” my friend patted me reassuringly on the back. I was a few days into a very necessary break up. After a year of miscommunication, restaurant storm outs, ugly snot crying arguments and long teary phone conversations, it was over. He had pulled the pin. I was dumped.…… Continue reading Dumped
It was 9 am and I was blubbering – big, uncontrollable, ugly tears. Slumped on the floor of my kitchen, draped in a sweat stained t-shirt I’d worn to bed the night before. I was tired, I was fed up, I was angry and just now, I was suddenly aware of how grubby my tiles…… Continue reading Spilt Milk
I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find that my reliance on my girlfriends has actually increased as I’ve matured, rather than fading to the sideline, as partners, careers, and children have emerged. Where once I relied on my girlfriends to literally keep me from drunkenly falling overboard on a university boat cruise (a university I didn’t even attend, no less), I now rely on them to help me dissect the motives of my children’s inexplicable behaviours, without telling me I’m “overthinking it” (even if I am). Gone are the days of enthusiastically choreographing, without a hint of irony, uncomplicated dance routines to Beck songs, but the camaraderie and the effort remain, and increase with each passing year. And thank god, because the alternative as it’s presented in “Girls” – fading friendships, growing up and old without true solidarity – looks kind of, well, lonely.
‘B-yy-eee!’ I sing song’d through the closing door. ‘Bye mum!’ a tiny voice called back. But I could hardly care. If this were a movie, this is the part where the lighting would change, illuminating the protagonist’s euphoric expression with a golden glow. It would be shot at low angle and in slow motion to fully…… Continue reading Party Girl, Interrupted
‘Are you alright in there?’ inquired the impossibly thin sales assistant. “Yep,” I answered, trying to stifle the desperation in my voice. But no, I was not alright. I had found my DREAM dress. It was exactly, everything that I had ever imagined I would wear to my birthday celebration. When I spotted it in the…… Continue reading FAT BOTTOMED GIRLS