Skin deep.

I just received an email telling me that the latest and greatest beauty product from a certain cosmetic store will help me achieve four things.

Luminosity.
Radiance.
Purity.
Intensity.

…Seriously?

I’m definitely a cosmetics fan. I like moisturiser and eyeliners and lipsticks. I love going to the spa or to my beautician and feeling super pampered. The feeling of freshly exfoliated skin and the look of a newly painted french mani/pedi are things that make me feel a million bucks.

However, while there are physical benefits to wearing a moisturiser everyday and while it’s important to put good things on our skin and we all like to look good at the same time – it’s interesting to see that many of us believe that having plumper lips or more defined cheekbones will make us luminous or pure.

Being a big believer in the idea that what’s on the inside will reflect on the outside, I can’t help but think that often, myself included, we put more effort into finding ways to look more beautiful than into finding ways to act more beautiful. We flip through the glossy magazines and walk through the shops looking for the perfect boots to go with the perfect skinny leg jeans but of course to fit into those skinny leg jeans we need to get on that diet of Jennifer Aniston’s and the process goes on and on and on.

But maybe, just maybe, if we jumped online and searched for the perfect opportunity to match our own individual skills and talents…then not only would we feel more beautiful but we might look more beautiful to people as well.

I believe that’s called radiance.

With love,

M. x

“For attractive lips,
speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes,
seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure,
share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair,
let a child run their fingers through it once a day.
For poise,
walk with the knowledge you never walk alone.”

Tags: beauty, cosmetic, purpose, self-image, service, vanity, volunteer

Object of Affection #1

Chances are, if you’ve been reading my blog, you love some of the things that I love. The ‘Object of Affection’ section of my blog is going to be dedicated to things that I find that I fall in love with instantly, like quite a lot or have grown to love. Maybe you will have love in your heart for them too! Some will be silly and some will be serious. Some will be shallow. Some will be full of truth and worth. Here is one thing that I love that represents the latter.

The A21 Campaign

The A21 Campaign supports people who have suffered or are suffering from human trafficking. Show your love for our brothers and sisters by jumping on the bandwagon and loving the A21 Campaign too.

Another thing I love is that on October 21, I get to wear my fake Tiffany key necklace and show my support for the A21 Campaign. Heck, it even makes me consider spending that much money on a real one.

October 21 - wear a key necklace to support A21

Go check out the website and see the work the A21 crew is up to. Definitely worth having a look at! If you’re of the praying kind, keep A21 and the work that they do in your thoughts.

Peace, love and all things good,

M.

Tags: A21, affection, human trafficking, key, love, necklace, object, support

Ladylikeness is next to godliness

It was my lunch break.

One hour of pure bliss that allowed for only two options. Option One: Shop. Option Two: flicking through magazines at the French café down the road. My heart said shopping but my feet said café because the shoes I wore that day were not made for walking.

In between an article on how to lose weight like Miss Australia and a quiz on what relationship style best suits you, I overheard a conversation between two people.

The first person to speak was older. Maybe in her sixties and decked out in the Nanna essentials. Comfy trousers, walking shoes and a nice cardigan. But we were in Paddington so I’m sure the shoes were Italian. She was joking with the owner of the café and chatting away to her guest who was much younger.

I think she was around three or four. She had the curliest hair and a tiny pink pinafore that made her look like a little doll. The Nanna-like lady threw question after question at her. From “What did you learn at gymnastics today?” to “This is a picture of the Spanish Steps, have you been there before?” the questions she asked were endless and not necessarily interesting for the poor little girl who seemed more keen on drinking her strawberry milkshake in peace than listening to the persistent woman.

I pushed on through the January edition of Cleo. Past articles on fashion trends are always interesting to see how much truth was behind it. Was it worth spending $150 on a pair of gladiator sandals? And would those cage heels be in my closet in the years to come?

My important thought process on the value of a nautical blazer (essential of course) was interrupted by the munchkin beside me. She was wriggling around in her seat as little children do because no three year old child who is not sedated can sit still for longer than 5 minutes. Her Nanna/Grandma/Aunty said to her, “Look at that lady over there. You need to sit still like her and be a lady. You need to act like a lady at a restaurant.” Then, the girl started complaining that her feet were hot and could she take her shoes off. Older lady person didn’t give it a second thought. “Ladies don’t take their shoes off at restaurants. You’ll just have to grin and bear it”. And that was the end of that for the little girl with hot feet.

Now I am definitely an advocate for ladylikeness. Give me my Audrey and my Chanel and please don’t show me Ladette to Lady. And yes we should teach children about being patient and being polite in the early years. But seriously, ‘grin and bear it’ to a three year old?

No matter what age, ‘grin and bear it’ is not the most joyous turn of phrase.

There is a time to grow up for sure, but sometimes, situations call for us to kick our shoes off and enjoy where we are.

When I left the café, I wanted to walk over to that table and undo the little buckles on the girl’s shoes and say ‘you wriggle as much as you like’. Because no one should have to keep their wriggles inside and really, who doesn’t love a wriggle every now and then?

Just a thought.

Love M.

The gift.

It was about a year ago when it happened. Ashley; the crazy, curly-haired, musical phenomenon and I decided we needed to have a catch up. She’s one of those friends who no matter how much time has passed, you can talk like you saw each other yesterday. It was your run of the mill catch up. The drinks, the love, the chit chat.

And then she gave me a gift.

She may not have realised it was a gift at the time but it has kept on bringing me joy like a present with a big bow on top.

The mix tape.

Sure it was in mp3 version and I went home and transferred it to my iTunes but the glory of the mix tape was still there.

Whatever happened to mix tapes? Why on earth would people stop creating such glorious things?

Okay so I wasn’t really old enough to be appreciative when mix tapes were in their prime but if I was, I can’t imagine letting it die out. It’s the perfect gift. Thoughtful, joyous, and provides for endless giving options! For that friend who is moving abroad, the friend who just got dumped again or the friend who has everything – mix tapes are the icing on any person’s birthday cake.

Ashley’s mixtape still brings me joy today. The sounds of Claire Bowditch, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Laura Marling make me feel like putting on gumboots and jumping in the puddles rather than being grumpy about my wet feet.

A few weeks ago a boy was chatting up my friend and said that a mixtape would be in the mail featuring all sorts of wonder. And the box of joy never arrived. The key things about mixtapes – effort and dedication. Mixtapes bring so much happiness that you can’t tell someone that they’ll be receiving one and then get lazy on the follow through. Evidently, she lost interest and he just lost.

So to all of you slackers, the ones who buy gift vouchers not because the person wants them but because it’s convenient or the boys who think all they need to do to woo a girl is to post a photo of them together on their Facebook page; get your act together, pull out the oldies (see The Beatles, The Rolling Stones) and the freshies (see Angus & Julia, Kate Nash, Mumford & Sons. Note: exclude dear Britney from the selection. No one needs that) and make something heartfelt the next time the gift-giving season comes around. Just make sure it’s not half-arsed.

M. x

Online or instore?

The dress was pretty.

It was 50% off and it was oh so pretty. The detail was perfect and the colour was exactly what I wanted. But even that sort of discount would not make my bank account very happy.

It was nice to look at though.

Online shopping has become a secret joy of mine. I feel like a hermit when I look at it typed out on my screen. But when the email arrives in my inbox with sales on clothes, accessories, shoes, snowboards, homewares, stationery – my eyes are opened up to possibilities. I can shop while I’m on my lunch break, waiting for my doctor’s appointment or sitting at the train station.

The best thing is, I’m less inclined to open up my wallet and purchase. Punching in those numbers on the keyboard makes me nervous but when I’m near those beautiful polished window displays and friendly staff, my hand goes into my handbag and pulls out my wallet.

While it stops me from spending, it pushes me to enter through those shiny sliding doors into the temperature controlled hallways of retail delight.

The more I think about it and click my cursor through the latest seasons online, the more I realise that the situation is inevitable.

Tomorrow, I am shopping.

Tags: broke, budget, clothing, designer, expense, mall, money, online, retail, shoes, shopping, store

Itchy Feet.

Itchy Feet \ich-ee feet\
– adjective
1. a tingling sensation that prompts the need to scratch the part of your leg below the ankle
2. an urge to travel, to move beyond, to make progress

I am suffering from itchy feet. That feeling you get when your passport is gathering dust and you’ve forgotten the combination for your luggage padlock.

A year ago, I was somewhere in Europe. Eating gelato out the front of ancient coffee clubs, trawling the markets of Florence looking for the right tacky travel memory, figuring out how to get from A to B on the métro in Paris or wandering on a rainy night through London with an umbrella in one hand and a boy holding the other.

Today, I drove to work with a coffee in hand that I grabbed as I ran out the door.

Today, my handbag is filled with fuel dockets and my diary at the exploding point with notes from work instead of ticket stubs for galleries and directions from the concierge for local markets on hotel paper. Today, the romance of travel is gone but the memories remain like the gum on my ballet flats from getting lost in La Defense.

Today, for now, I am making the most of where I am. Soaking up the surroundings of the local shopping centre, the hustle and bustle of soccer mum traffic, transporting myself from Pennant Hills train station to the London Tube. I try and imagine that the overweight lady serving me at the budget grocery store is speaking to me in French and that instead of bread and milk in my basket to refill the kitchen that I have baguettes and camembert for a picnic in the afternoon sun with friends.

While there is no boarding pass in my travel wallet and no itinerary plastered on the fridge with emergency contact numbers, my mind is adventuring. My thoughts are filled with ambitious plans, my internet history filled with travel sites, my bank account eagerly awaiting the day where it is emptied out again and converted to euros, ringgit or baht.

For now, I am Alice – making the suburbs my wonderland.

Tags: boredom, broke, discovery, Europe, explore, journey, plan, suburbs, travel, work

I don’t like oysters.

I have one semester left at college before I’m out in the real world. In December, they’ll hand me that piece of paper saying that I have completed my degree. It’s meant to open doorways. It’s meant to help me go places. Australia, abroad, business, communications, public sector, private sector. When people ask me what I’m going to do next year I say “the world is my oyster” with a smile plastered over my face as fake as a Chanel watch bought from Cambodia. I can tell everyone that “the world is my oyster” and in the process try and convince myself of it too – but I don’t really like oysters.

When I was young, the options were endless. Barbie displayed them all to me in cardboard boxes with plastic mirrors. Teachers, doctors, gymnasts, scientists, singers, mothers, CEO’s, and checkout chicks.

So now, I have to take one off the shelf. Buy that Barbie. Bite the bullet. Take the chance. Make a change. Recognise that the world is my unlikeable oyster and I need to figure out how I want to go about it. And I’m ready to do that. But how? Do I want to be Journalist Barbie? Or PR Barbie? Or “I’m working in retail because I can’t decide what I want to do” Barbie?

I’ll let you know in six months.

M.

Tags: change, college, denial, indecisive, life, studies, time