Two things I haven’t dropped from the 90s – a love of a Chanel Rough Noir-style scab red nail polish colour and a deep desire to emulate everything that Drew Barrymore ever does, trendwise.
If you don’t believe me on that last point, check out the Style Inspirations board on the Sophie’s Voice Pinterest account.
We’ve grown up together. If I ever want proof that a mother of two can be edgy, glamorous and sexy when she wants to be I just look at Ms Barrymore. I would put Sofia Coppola and Maggie Gyllenhaal in the same category.
My Twitter blah reads ‘Writer, feminist, fashionista, glamazon, mother’. It’s a bit pretentious but it sums up the parts of me that combine when I work on this project. They’re disparate aspects of my personality but – with the exception of my maternal status – they work well together.
I don’t want to look at women who primp and preen constantly. I want to see people who have bad hair days – or who have to wear jersey because they don’t have time for ironing.
They need to look as if they’re enjoying life too. The Kidmans of this world look poised but – frankly – unfun. Do you think she actually has sex? Imagine the mess it would make of her hair. I can’t see Drew caring that much.
And people like Renee Zellweger don’t kick off their shoes. They place them side-by-side in the perfect pair. Before hanging up their immaculate clothes. That wait’s going to cut in to your spontaneity. Maggie doesn’t seem to press her clothes in the first place.
You know those boozy lunches where you overindulge and end up staying late into the night? Can you imagine Anne Hathaway doing that? Is that before or after she’s bored you all acutely by talking about overfishing?
I am a fan of the type of women who aren’t perfect. They’re messy – and possibly not in visible ways. They can happily excel at work, socially and domestically – but they’re not uptight. They’re realists – knowing that you can’t do everything. You just can’t.
I used to be accomplished at everything but housework. I’m sorry but I don’t care how tidy things are. Neither did Einstein so no biggy. Then I had children and I got a bit better at that – but my ability to make edgy fashion choices disappeared. There’s a special place in my heart for Breton tops, skinny jeans and ballet flats.
Now, I have taught my children to do the housework, sorted out my wardrobe, adapted my work so my office is at home and have decided to finish my studies.
You know what’s been dropped? Whatever needs to be at the time. Seriously, I can’t live with everything in little boxes anymore. It’s ridiculous. Now I just keep stock of how it’s all rolling – I take a mental headcount every so often. Kids? Check. Handbag? Check. Keys? Check. Client notes? Check. Deadlines scheduled? Check. Body working? Check. Intellect challenged for the day? Check. Just remember to carry a big bag for all those demands.
Or maybe not. In fact, never – but I’m keeping as many balls in the air, for as long as possible, as much as I can. Nobody’s dead. In fact, we seem to be pretty happy.
I know that the kids think I’m glued to my smartphone – but at least it enables me to be with them as much as possible. I know Mr Sophie’s Voice would like to live with the latest Miss Orange County runner-up but girls with highlights like that rarely put up with the type of disgusting behaviours that I take in my stride.
I would love to be able to stop cutting my own fringe. On the other hand, it looks edgy and I like subversive things.
So, from now on, consider Sophie’s Voice the place to be if you have split ends, buy your Isabel Marant at H&M and worry about how many tabs your new smart phone will let you have open at any one time.
And, look, I’m happy.
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