fabulous footwear

Tags

Cindy Lauper, clogs, clothes, fashion, high heals, Marilyn Monroe, miscellaneous, ramblings, random, sandals, shoes, stilettos, thoughts

If I was naughty on Monday I was very bold yesterday. As I was walking down Henry Street after an appointment I happened to wander in to a shoe shop. For those of you who regularly read my ramblings, you will know that my passion for shoes is my kryptonite.

As I strolled around the shelves and longingly looked at heels, wedges, sandals and even a sweet pair of slippers I saw a little rack of “sale shoes”. My eyes lit up, my heart beat faster and I couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe there would be a pair that not only fits my budget (very meager) but also my feet and the dress I am going to wear on Sunday to my nieces Confirmation.

Begrudgingly I bought the dress a few weeks ago, I have been looking for something to wear for quite a while and nothing seemed to fit right, suit me or make me feel fabulous. But the one dress I did try on, darkish green with white polka-dots, a little bit in a 40s/50s style, fit well and does have a killer cleavage. It was more expensive than I had planned for but not willing and too tired to keep looking I bought it knowing that new shoes would no longer be possible.  Also knowing that I have enough shoes to last me several lifetimes.

But it has been bugging me that none of my shoes would be perfect and I am all about the shoes. I am big believer that shoes have the power to make you feel sexy, beautiful and give you that extra bit of strut you need when you are feeling low. As Marilyn Monroe once said:

Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world

The shoe sale shelf was filled with the dregs of the shoe world, platform sneakers, plasticy sandals and those shoes that make your feet look like hooves. But as I hunkered down, not willing to give up I spotted a pair of bottle green leather heals. The perfect colour for my dress. Like Irish dancing shoes there are straps that run in criss-cross over the arch of your foot that you then tie in a bow at your ankle. And the heal has a slight bend to it, giving it a very subtle and unique appeal. Very different, very cute and exactly what I wanted, even if I didn’t know it. I held my breath as I looked at the size and it was not mine, too big.

As I turned the shoes I decide I would try them on anyway, maybe the half size to big would not be an issue and maybe I could make it work. As my feet slipped into the heels I could feel that the size was not going to be a problem. Luckily the shoes where cut small and due to the straps I could pull the shoe to sit tightly on my foot. Success and the price was even better. 22Euro was all they wanted and even if my purse screamed at me when I opened it I turned a deaf ear and gladly paid the sum.

Feeling happy I skipped home and after I had poured myself a glass of wine (the bottle wasn’t empty from the night before) I sat in front of the telly with my tracksuit bottoms pulled up to my knees admiring my new footwear. And as I danced to Cindy Laupers Girls just wanna have fun and pranced, sashayed, flounced and twirled around my living room I definitely felt I could conquer the world or at the very least feel gorgeous on Sunday.

So no matter if you love loafers, clogs, boots, flip-flops, high heels, hightops, moccasins, platforms, pumps, sneakers, sandals, slippers or stilettos or if like me you just love them all, I think we can safely say that if a dog is a man’s best friend not diamonds but shoes are a girls.

For picture of outfit and shoes go to picture un-perfect

naughty is nice

Tags

art, breaking rules, Cubism, Expressionism, fun, miscellaneous, naughty, Picasso, Pop Art, power, psychology, ramblings, rules, thoughts, Van Gogh, Warhol, wine

I was naughty last night. I know it was a work-night and I needed to get up early this morning but for some reason I felt like a glass of wine (dark red pinot noir) and a film was the best way to end the day.

As I opened the bottle and those fruity, berry flavours filled my nose I felt my body relax and was really looking forward to just sitting down and being lazy. As I poured the ruby red pinot and put on the the DVD I couldn’t help but grin at the thought how I was braking my own rules.

A study done a while back shows that people actually believe that those who break rules tend to have more power, drive and are more likely to get things done. The reasoning behind this idea is that the more powerful someone is the fewer rules they need to keep. For instance someone who sits down at a table in a cafe without waiting to be seated, buts his feet up on the seat next to him and brusquely orders a coffee is seen as more powerful as someone who politely waits their turn.

As teenagers it’s important to break rules even if it drives parents up the walls and the phrase “I can’t believe she/he did that, she/he knows better!” seems to be always on the tips of their tongues. Without this naughty behaviour adolescence can’t feel independent, test their own capabilities and learn how to deal with consequences.  It even seems to be that risk taking/rule breaking is hardwired into their brains for a certain period of time allowing their minds to learn how far they can push themselves and why some rules are necessary.

As a writer and designer I know only too well that the rules you learn on how to write a ‘good’ article or design a ‘pretty’ page have to broken every now and then to change the ‘good’ article into a ‘brilliant’ one and the ‘pretty’ page into a ‘stunning’ one. In art Picasso broke the rules of perception and created Cubism, Van Gogh decided to NOT paint what he saw but how he felt and Expressionism was born and Warhol focused on the mundane not the special in his Pop Art revolution. This shows that while you need rules as guide lines it is only when you step outside the boundaries that you can create something new and unique.

But sometimes breaking rules is just fun, it gives you that little tingle of delight that you are doing something you shouldn’t and it makes you feel alive. Simple things like running barefoot over a lawn you are not meant to be stepping on, or stealing the toiletries off a hotel-cart or maybe swiping the flake out of someone elses 99er and popping it into your mouth before they can take it back are breaking rules, but not really harming anyone. And the little rush you get makes your heart pump, adrenalin flow and your mind think outside that ominous box. And sometimes all you need is a glass of wine on a work-night.

So today I will make sure to break a few rules, have fun and maybe seem powerful to the rest of the world.

Breaking rules makes you seem more powerful

the point in disappointment

Tags

disappointment, failure, friends, mental-health, people, psychology, pulitzer prize winning novel, ramblings, thoughts, work, writing

Last week has been filled with disappointment for me. Things I thought were good to go fell through, people I thought about in a certain way changed in my eyes and even an important legal letter I sent was returned to me this morning, telling me to resend to different a address which will make the whole process even longer. As I shift through the dregs of everything that happened I can’t help but feel let down, rejected and stupid.

Of course I know that disappointment is a natural occurrence and actually very important for learning how to deal with difficult situations. If children don’t learn how to deal with failure it is much more likely they’ll be prone to give up and not try hard when adults. So is failure really such a bad thing?

In a world in which success seems to be the only thing worth talking about it is hard to see the point in being disappointed, in failing at something. But studies have shown that there is no correlation between success and happiness. People who strive all their lives to reach certain goals or work hard to earn a lot of money and climb the corporate ladder, often say in their twilight years that they regret no living in the moment as they were always looking towards their goals and the future.

Sometimes the reason why we are disappointed is that we have unattainable ideas of how something should be or our goals are beyond what we can achieve. This doesn’t mean dream small it only means that with big dreams we need to know it will take time and effort. So instead of being disappointed in not becoming an international movie-star over night, we can take joy in having the lead role in the community theater. Or our best-selling Pulitzer prize winning novel may take a while but our article in the local newspaper can be celebrated today.

Other times we are disappointed because although we seem to be working hard to solve a problem, to loss weight or make something happen we forget that in is not always about the amount of work we put in but about the quality of what we do. So without realising it we have been setting ourselves up for failure and won’t be able to achieve our goals. When disappointment kicks in, it can help to take a step back and readjust what we are doing, change our pattern and try again. This way failing isn’t something bad but a lesson learnt and the first step in the right direction.

Sadly disappointment can also occur for no other reason than life is not fair and bad things happen. This means that just because we want something doesn’t mean we are going to get it. But it does mean that as soon as we realise that we will fail at things or people will let us down, we can move on and put the disappointment on a shelf along with our other life-experience memorabilia.

So the point in disappointment is to learn, live now,  change and build up an impressive collection of experiences. There is no shame in feeling upset or being annoyed when you are disappointed, but the sooner you let it go the quicker you can enjoy yourself and what you have now.

With that said I am going to take a few minutes, drink my cup of tea and grumble but then start the week with a new hopefully can-do attitude.

stuck in the middle

Tags

children, families, family, Middle Children, miscellaneous, psychology, ramblings, random, thoughts, wednesday

I quite like Wednesdays even if I don’t really know why.  I think it may have to do with the fact that I like things in the middle. I like licking out the center of Ferrero Rochers, twisting cookies apart and eating the filling first or nibbling the top off of chocolate bars to get at the caramelly goodness inside. And since Wednesday is neither the beginning nor the end of the week I think it’s undefined status makes it a day that can surprise you.

Studies have shown that Wednesday is the best day to ask bosses for a raise and for singles to have their first date. Funnily enough this makes the best day for dating the day stuck between Tuesday, the day you are least likely to have sex and Thursday the best day for sex.

But maybe my love for Wednesdays comes from the fact that I am a middle child, stuck between an older sister and a younger brother. I know that in psychology this make me the “mysterious middle child”, someone who is harder to define and more often than not has a rebellious streak. This probably comes from the fact that a middle child never receives the full attention of their parents. The oldest is an only child till the next one comes along, the youngest becomes an only child when the others have moved on. Middlelings are never alone, which means they never get 100% of their parents attention. The benefits of receiving less attention is that middle children tend to be more independent, the negatives are they have to work harder to be heard.

But being stuck in the middle also means that you get to try things out, you learn to think a little bit outside the box and can develop your own creativity. And like any good sandwich filling you tend to hold things together, as a mediator, even if it makes you the one to have the argument. Middle children are full of contradictions, the are laid-back yet impatient, they are very sociable but like solitude, the are rebels but good diplomats and always a little bit different.

So with Wednesday (named between two gods, the Roman god Mercury with his fetching winged sandals and the Germanic god Odin, Thors dad) stretching out in front of me, I think I will see what happens and enjoy the surprises it may hold. And since Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, JFK, Bill Gates, Ernest Hemingway, Barbara Walters and Julia Roberts are all middle children I think I am in quite good company.

Days of the week

lying in the bed I made

Tags

bed, blame, dancing, hug, humour, love, ramblings, random, single, thoughts

As I poured the milk into my tea this morning I really got annoyed, the milk had gone off over night and now my morning beverage was filled with unsightly chunks. But what upset me the most was that I was the only one to blame.

As a single living by myself (not by choice or design) I have to take all the blame for any unpaid bills, forgotten groceries, mess in the kitchen and even if that chocolate I was saving for times of need (we all have them) disappears before its time. Sadly, there is no one else to point the finger at and at times this can get a little bit tiring. Even worse, since no one is around to then make you that much needed cup of tea, pour a relaxing glass of wine or give you a well deserved hug, your tired-self has to even do that on its own.

But of course there are many benefits to living on your own as well. You don’t need to ask if you can have the last slice of cake, so even if you baked it you can eat it too! You can twirl to your hearts content if a twirl-worthy song jingles from the radio and dancing to ABBA, singing along at the top of your voice while cooking is not judged either. Well, unless a neighbour walks by and sees your silly single behaviour through the window.

As I folded the laundry and put clean sheets on my bed, I suddenly realised, that although I would love to snuggle up to that special someone, at least I can lie diagonally in bed if I like and I get to keep the entire double bedspread to myself.  What luxury, so I think I’ll make my own bed and lie in for now.

serendipitous coincidences

Tags

Albert Einstein, coincidence, laugh, miscellaneous, night out, rambleings, ramblings, serendipity, thoughts, wine

Last night over a bottle or two of delicious red wine I was asked what I thought of coincidences. I had to pause and think because while I do believe that things happen that can lead up to events that can effect you, I also am a great believer in choice. However, I also believe in serendipity, not just because I love the way the word sounds and moves around in my mouth, but for its lovely meaning of “a fortunate accident” or  “a happy surprise”.

Still faced with this conundrum niggling away at me I choose to look up what coincidence really means. It is derived from the Latin words cum (with, together) and incidere (to fall on, to happen). And in science coincidence is only use to to figure out whether things are related or not, not considered proof of causal affects but just a higher possibility. And statistically speaking coincidences are bound to happen, in a group of 23 or more people there is a more than 50% chance that two share the same birthday. This is not a coincidence, but a mathematical equitation.

Serendipity in comparison is quite a new-ish word. The first person to use the term in English was Horace Walpole in 1754 when he wrote to a friend about the Persian fairy tale The Three Princes of Serendip. Funnily enough serendipity is also one of the ten hardest English words to translate … coincidence or just a happy accident?

Feeling a little smarter but not wiser I think when it comes to coincidences I will quote Albert Einstein from now on “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.” or maybe I will follow writer Simon Van Booy and his “Coincidences mean you’re on the right path.” 

But overall be it a coincidence or serendipity I had a lovely evening last night, enjoyed myself, laughed and had charming company. So hopefully I will fall upon another happy accident, or chosen event that mathematically will lead to a repeat.

The art of breakfast

Tags

breakfast, family, food, health, love, pyjamas, ramblings, thoughts

Since my sister and her kids have been staying I have been making breakfast the old-fashioned way … boiling eggs, setting the table with napkins (even if they are the brightly coloured, paper kind) and having a selection of cereals and bread ready for every taste, want and need. I even make herbal tea and normal black tea and I have both apple and orange juice ready to be poured.

We sit (still in our pyjamas), chat and take our time in getting the day started. No rush, no pressure just people sitting together in (more or less) harmony being a family and enjoying each others stories, squabbling over who gets the last piece of toast or dropping jammy knifes onto laps and floors.

I love these little comfy family session, possibly because as a single meals can be a lonely time and more often than not I will put on the TV to keep me company. I love the warm feeling of community and love that sits in my tummy while I chat, eat and just enjoy the people around me.

Interestingly enough studies do show that by sitting down as a family, children are less likely to develop bad eating habits or even disorders, they also learn manners and how to interact with others. But what really is surprising children who have regular family meals are also less likely to smoke or take drugs … who knew?

So as I remove the remnants of another lovely breakfast, I am happy about how my day started and it looks to continue in the same way

 Family Dinners

Eating Together

 

letting sleeping Germans lie

Tags

cuddle, embrace, family, hugs, humour, love, ramblings, thoughts, touch

Just a quick entry today as I have three sleeping Germans upstairs and I am not sure how long the peace will last. And a they say it’s best to to let them lie.

After a lovely day in sunny Dublin (a rare treat in itself) we all made it back to my tiny cottage safe and sound, carrying many, many bags filled with t-shirts and other garbs. Everyone was happy, if tired and I was on tea duty. Between boiling several pots of tea and enjoying the teenage fashion show in my own living-room I was able to up my normal cuddle quota.  I read somewhere (a good while ago) that to be a happy person you should enjoy at lest ten hugs every day. As a single bilingual living on my own I sadly often spend my days hug-less. And although I am not sure if an emotional-hug bank exists I try to get my cuddles when I can, hoping there is enough love stored up to hug me through those sometimes lonely times.

I love hugs, not the sideways-step and pat on the back kind, the one that heterosexual men do to signal they are not gay … each pat a word: pat I’m pat not pat gay. Nor do I enjoy the leaning-forward, only embracing the shoulders kind of hug, this kind of hug is normally topped off with air-kissing and high-pitched “lovely to see you” screeches. I love a full-on hug, an unselfconscious embrace in which both parties just jump in and hug  tightly, with abundance and joy. A hug that you just want to stay in, feel loved and safe in, a hug that helps you through those tricky moments in life or even just lets you really feel how the other feels about you.

Touch is such an important factor of human life and studies done into the field of trust and touch and how they are linked. If we are touched (not in the inappropriate way) our brain kick starts love-hormones called Oxytocin into action. These loveable hormones don’t only help us feel empathy and reduce anxiety but they also help us bond with others. And research has even shown that hugging can reduce physical pain, even if it is just you wrapping your arms around yourself in a me-embrace.

As I hear the pitter-patter and thud of large and small feet upstairs I am ready for my daily hug-doses, feeling loved is a great way to start the day.

Why we touch

The art of hugging