I don't really have the right body type for looking chic, but it's all in the attitude anyhow. Today I saw an unusually gorgeous young woman. Not just pretty but all the right bone structures doing all the right things and no extra body fat anywhere except in all the right places. The only thing she lacked to keep her looking like she'd stepped off the pages of Vogue not even needing any photo shop was height and she made height look quite overrated. Her clothing was simple and she appeared to be wearing no makeup. Her hair was just brown, not dyed, or highlighted to appear blonde, in fact she looked like someone you might see on a blog touting Parisian Chic. And I thought to myself, knowing what I know about most women, she probably doesn't see that when she looks in the mirror. There is a good chance she mostly sees her 'flaws', or wishes this were a little more that and that were a little less this.
I am keeping her in mind when I look at photos of myself, remembering that what I see may be different from what others see. It's a fact that I actually look better naked than I do in clothing and I suppose some might envy that, but since I am rarely seen naked by anyone, and I mean rarely, it seems a rather pointless virtue to me. But I've decided that this little bit of knowledge should be my secret weapon, my reason for a Mona Lisa smile and I've decided to paint that smile red.
After years of searching, and then more years of giving up and not trying at all, I finally found my red. I knew it needed to be a brown-red because my naturally mauve lips will make any lipstick pinker than it is. One look at me and you'd say I need a berry toned red, but the strange thing is my lips turn a brown-red into a berry colour and a true red into something a bit too intense for me.
Slight Digression Number One: I once knew a girl with the most amazing naturally deep red lips. Her one passion it seemed, was to cover them thickly in pale sparkly pink lip gloss. All she really needed was a swipe of lip balm but then this was the eighties and most people didn't do anything with subtlety then, except perhaps for me and about five other people.
Subtlety is a relative thing anyhow. I am not beautiful in any of the ways I would like to be- boyishly gamine and petite or long and thin and draped in flowing layers. I don't have a waist tiny enough to give me a bombshell figure but I've got a chest that wants to look matronly and a torso that does it's damnedest to look blocky. Sometimes I just want to wear something that isn't my very best option for figure flattery, like this blouse, lacking in darts.
The cardigan is navy, not black. By now you should always assume I am not wearing black though about 5% of the time I will be. For colour reference, that cyclamen beside me is fuchsia coloured not the orange-red it appears. The shoes are a medium brown. The blouse is my favourite just off white, so very soft and goes with almost everything I have-jeans, skirts and even jumpers. The buttons don't strain over my bust but for that I had to buy a large size and I could probably wear this blouse for the first seven months of a pregnancy.
The solution to everything is a red lip! No smokey eye with the red lip-just a flick of mascara. C'est tout. Trés Chic. Trés Frawnch and pretty much roll out of bed and swipe on the lipstick style being demonstrated right here.
Slight Digression Number Two: The walls, are no longer baby poo green-brown-gold. Hurrah! I've got this little space with nothing on the wall to use as my photo spot for now. I am rather tempted to draw a body outline on the wall. How about a template for different poses across the length of my living room?
I've been exhausted, still am exhausted, but I went out for a couple of hours and had my weekly lunch with my parents. Then I came home, put on my pyjamas and crawled back into bed. Ten hours a night plus daily naps is a current requirement and my body is pretending to have rheumatoid arthritis. That's a typical C.F.S./M.E. symptom so right now baths, the heating pad and ibuprofen are my best friends.
I'm hoping that soon I will find the strength and energy with little cost, to put on a favourite skirt and a beret and hang out in a café, drinking cup after cup of Café Americano for hours and reading my favourite blogs. I might want to avoid making eye contact with any talkative men though.
PS: I've not found the energy to reply to previous comments but thank you for them. I love reading your comments and appreciate the time you've taken to leave them.