Christmas was a bit odd this year in that we didn't fully immerse ourselves in all things Santa. John's stress levels reached DEFCON 3 as he tried desperately to finish our bedroom for Christmas, something I am pleased to say that he achieved with flying colours (albeit a few finishing touches and the question of unsecured skirting board but that matters not!).
We didn't send Christmas cards, got caught out not giving presents in time and just generally felt that we could have done with another 6 weeks so as to give the festivities all the care and attention they deserved. I had such plans of grandeur for the first Christmas in our new home but they all fell by the wayside without funding, energy and time. That said, the giggles over Articulate, the endless glasses of falling down water and the general pleasure that comes (at the time) from being gluttonous without guilt, was very much enjoyed. Our one crowning glory was our beautiful tree, which we colour coordinated of course, matching the colours that our lounge will be eventually.
But now it is all finit and the New Year blues have found their way in. The word that shall not be said out loud (diet) is back on the agenda and just the thought of one is exhausting. I don't like to record and analyse what I eat, I love food too much to break it down into recordable component parts. Something must be done though. All this time I have been blaming my love of wine for my excess poundage and it turns out that my little bowl of Frosties every night for supper was sneakily adding on many calories per sitting. I am still in shock to be honest. My glass of wine coupled with a packet of crisps is less fattening! Anyway, no more excuses and I hope that now I have the ultimate goal to motivate me.....
Le Boudoir....
Yes, operation Carrie Bradshaw is around 80% complete. I have my dressing room thanks to my amazing husband and his endless patience. Here is a couple of pictures as she currently stands, just bear in mind I have yet to buy the chandelier, carpet and fancy blind. My shoes are not yet permanently housed either. The original plan of bookshelves with glass fronted doors is still being muted but I am still considering other options that will maximise the space even more. Current count is 179 pairs so optimisation is key or they will be spilling out to the far corners of the house. And I have been politely reminded that this is not a discussable option.
Ok, so not the most glamorous entrance but as I said, still work to be done. To the left is the entrance to the en suite that John has built and the clothes sticking out? That's my jacket wardrobe but you can't see it very well. Proper photos to follow when it's all done!
Posh dress area with bags over-head.....
Day dresses in the middle and tops and bottoms to the left.
And on the other wall......
Homeless but organised.....at least they are all in one space for now which is a god-send believe me.
So there you have it. It's only a relatively small area but a dream one all the same. I know I am very lucky and still pinch myself when I sit in there at night, cuppa in hand (no judgement), just looking around at the general splendour of it all. One thing that did surprise me though was the sadness that came with unpacking all my many crates of clothing. I had always assumed it would be a momentous day, unwrapping forgotten jewels in my 20 year collection but it was a very melancholy affair. As I excitedly ripped open box after box, I was sadly reminded of all the beautiful items I had kept but that realistically, was never going to wear again. I am no longer that girl about town, financially independent with savings in the bank, who's week revolved around work lunches, Friday night down the wine bar (extremely overdressed), or planning my next trip to New York or Cannes (where again, the whole trip revolved around the outfits and how long could I get away with pretending to be Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly swaying along the Côte d'Azur, before my boyfriend threw in the towel).
My life has changed in what seems like the blink of a slightly wrinkled eye and here I am. 40. None of what I am saying is out of regret or even unhappiness, it's just that stark realisation of the ageing process and the massive effect is has on who you are as a person (and on what you can wear that is deemed age appropriate). Still, the up-side is that there will be a few clothes ready for recycling, the whole point of loving second-hand, and as for the shoes.....they too have depleted slightly. 12 pairs were pulled out today. Some for the bin due to age and condition but 4 pairs ready for the charity shop.
Next job(s)? Posh light, black carpet and cover a small cube seat with velvet. Then hang some pictures on the small wall space that is available and get a blind. Boudoir almost finit.
Joan Collins eat your heart out.
Welcome back! Looking forward to seeing how the house progresses, with all your little treasures and objets d'arts finding their new homes.
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