Thursday, 15 January 2009

Cut the cute.

Do you know what I've really had enough of? Having to be bloody cute all the time.

Admittedly I work in the magazine industry where the raison d'etre of most women's mags is to inform their readers how to be fulfilled at work and at home, how to be a great mother/wife/ friend blah blah blah. All helpfully illustrated with case studies of 'real women' - real women my arse.

On top of all this is the unspoken rule that you'd better do all that and make sure you look cute at the same time.

Same old shit ladies. It's not enough to have a brain and to use it, to save lives, to nurse people back to health, to uphold justice, to bear and raise children, to produce a TV show, to run a bank, to design software, to teach, to run a home, to build a house etc etc etc - you get my drift.

What's annoying is I quite like cute. I like clothes and jewellery and nice hair-cuts and good skin. I like good design and nice things around me. I don't deny a good outfit can make me feel good. I'm just not sure any of that really matters. Look around any playground at school pick-up time though and you'll see it sure as shit matters.

And this, this stuff that matters, even though women protest that it doesn't, is what really drives me batshit.

I've started this blog for myself. A place I can go to analyse and reflect on what's important to me. Writing these things down helps me clarify things and I need the reflection right now. My children are growing so fast that I'm starting to really feel the time approaching when they will leave to make their own mark on the world.

And before they go I'd like my kids to understand what it is that I (and their father) consider important. They need to see me spending time on things in proportion to their importance - something I'm not sure happens at the moment.

If you asked my kids what was important to mum they'd probably say 'A tidy house!' This I know is:

a) true and
b) really pathetic.

In my defense I find it hard to relax when surrounded by crap so it's not tidiness I value for it's own sake or the impression it makes on others - it just really, really gets to me to be surrounded by stuff, stuff, stuff.

But it's not just a bit pathetic, its downright disgusting that my children see me get annoyed about an untidy house or excited about a piece of jewellery while letting images of dead Gazans or starving Sudanese go by without a comment. This is not the message I want to give them. This is not how I want them to judge other people in the playground.

So seriously people - remember this shit doesn't matter. While I will always enjoy nice clothes and those lovely shiny earrings I promise to try and not make you feel bad because your life is badly accessorized and your scatter cushions suck.

I've joined the blogosphere to reflect, to explore thoughts, air views, rant (there will almost certainly be quite alot of ranting - you've been warned!) and discuss life in general. So this is my place to think aloud as it were.

If you're interested in thinking with me, I'd love to have you along for the ride.

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