Rag week

One thing about getting dumped is that it really does a number on your self-esteem, particularly if there is no ostensible reason for the break up.  

I've never had the best esteem to start with, but I'm pretty good at faking it.  After all, you have to be thick-skinned to have once started a blog about what you wear every day and even more thick skinned to have told people about it.  I don't actually like being in front of the camera a whole lot, but my love of clothes and my interest in dressing better overcame that.  A hugely healthy sense of humour helps.

After the breakup though, I sometimes struggle to feel good about myself or see the humour in things.  I won't lie, I strut through life a lot and people don't realise how affected I am, but large chunks of my day are devoted to an internal monologue along the lines of "What the fuck is wrong with me?".  I'm trying to accept this as part of the healing process and just get on with life.  

It sounds completely frivolous but feeling good in your clothes can be a real boost to your self esteem.  It's not even about fancy clothes or new rags.  It's the difference between lying in bed and crying (which let's face it, I've done my fair share of) and putting on some fabulous armour and blazing out the door and through the day.  

In the spirit of blazing through the week, I took pictures of everything I wore this week to make sure that it was at least semi-presentable and I could go to work with my head held high.  And what d'ya know, I felt better almost instantly.

Last Sunday, I promised my students I would wear my Iron Maiden shirt (I'm quite a big fan) and attempted to make it more formal with a lace blazer, my H and M chinos and Timberland loafers.  Feeling guilty about looking so casual, I slunk around a bit, but then one of the senior teachers stopped me in the corridor and said, "Your outfit is so cute", and I calmed down.

I went Diptic crazy on Christmas Eve - I'd privately agreed with my friends that we'd dress festively for work, so I broke out my pink/red cropped pants from Uniqlo.  The earrings were a present from Becky and have little paintings of birds in them.  So cute!  Balto the sock monkey came with me to class for show and tell.

An overcast Christmas day with wellies, a hooded dress and a gingerbread man my mother got me for my birthday.  (That's me going nuts over the Christmas fern if you can't tell.)

Wednesday was a long day and I was still half asleep in the morning so I just grabbed the zebra shirt off the top of the pile and spent the rest of the day lying low.  The students liked it though.  Those are the same H and M chinos I wore on Sunday, yes.  I have a couple of pairs in different colours and rotate them a lot.  They're functional, super comfortable for bending and tiptoeing and relatively work-worthy.  Plus they cost less than $30.

On Thursday, the last official day of my work week, I went with a maxi dress, see-through sweater and the Zoroastrian farvahar David got me when he was travelling.  I'm not a religious person but I don't mind wearing religious symbols when they come from people with a lot of love and good wishes for protection.  After all, love is the basis of all great religions and something all humans subscribe to.

I do a lot of this cosy sweater over other less cosy stuff thing because the office can be freezing.

And yesterday, I wore this when we went out to watch Les Mis (which I think was hit and miss).  I'm very much a jeans and t-shirt girl and if I could wear them 90 per cent of the time, I would.  I get a lot of flak from people (particularly those in my parents' generation) for wearing these ripped knees and they do look a bit silly but they are so comfortable that they are my go-to jeans.  The wash has long since faded from blue to almost white, the little tears have become huge holes and the fabric is soft and breathes and makes it easy for me to bend and kneel.

I attempted to dress them up a bit with tomato red heels and my beloved LV bag.

Now, we're back at Saturday and I'm about to commence doing some work at the kitchen table in some very unglamorous sweats and a loose cotton tee.  You know.  Because I can.