Have I let MYSELF go? Or THAT self go?

Last week I stumbled on upon the blog of SuperKawaiiMama. I must admit my first thoughts were; wow she is so gorgeous and such a great writer. Not often you get that combination. How does she manage to look so good and be a full time mama?

Then, coincidentally the following day I read her post “Why Do Women Let Themselves Go?” and it got me thinking. Instead of bombarding her blog with my essay of a reply I have answered her question here and I’ll link it through.

SuperKawaiiMama is very gorgeous and very glamorous. From her photos I see that she has a lot of beautifully applied makeup, her hair has been set and her clothes are brightly coloured, perfectly cut works of retro art. Her section entitled daily outfit provides readers with a glimpse into her pretty world.

To SKM I’d be her poster girl for “women who have let themselves go” what with my dark coloured clothing, bits of beige and taupe here and there. My often washed but not set hair, my scuffed ballet flats and my scruffy tops and jeans. I certainly don’t wear makeup most days and I never wear heels during the day anymore.To me, I still look maybe a tiny bit stylish but I certainly would fall into SKM's definition of letting myself go. Yes often, I wear whatever I can grab quickly before the little one starts tearing things off shelves or emptying my makeupbox.

So, have I let myself go? No, I do not feel that I have. I think I have let “that” self go.

Which self? The one who valued appearances so highly. The one who got up early to set her hair in hot rollers, apply makeup and squeeze into gorgeous outfits and high heeled shoes. That was not MY self but rather, my appearance. To me the sense of self is a complex thing.

It runs deeper than MAC Mineralize foundation and glittering Jimmy Choos. It is who you are to you, to your friends, your family and the world. What you love, what you value and what you think… for me, it isn’t what I wear or how many heads turn when I enter a room.

Sure, having a baby has meant that even if I wanted to spend 40 minutes on my face and another 40 on my hair, I couldn’t. Why? Because I get so little sleep as it is, I refuse to get up at 4am to apply makeup and blow dry my hair and Tinker won’t sit still long enough for me to do it while she is awake. As for my clothes. Well if I am honest, there are 3 reasons for my glamourless outfits:

1. When I became a mum, fashion, glamour, entertainment seemed to pale in comparison to the depth of feelings I have about life, babies and love now. I’m just not that bothered.
2. Having always been super thin I went from 45 kilos on the day I announced my pregnancy to 73 the day I gave birth, I guess to me no matter how gorgeous the outfit is, I won’t love my appearance until I am back to my old shape. Sure I’m no oompah loompah but to go from an Aussie size 6-8 to 10-12 is a big change and if I am honest I don’t think I’m that worried about it. With my best friend having cancer and my beautiful daughter growing up and amazing me every day, fitting into a teeny tiny dress isn’t really on my radar. Life is short.

3. Practicality and comfort. Painting, cooking, playing in the sand, at the park… none of these things lend themselves to dry clean only outfits and Gucci heels. I do love nice clothes but I don’t enjoy getting dressed up every single day.

So have I let myself go? What do you think? Have you let yourself go? I suppose looking like a million bucks and having heads turn when I enter the room just doesn’t do it for me anymore so in my mind I have moved on. I think of the frum women and the Muslim ladies who wear very modest dress. Have they let themselves go or are they just asking the world to value them for who they are not what they look like?


Thank you SKM for asking this question. It really raises some interesting issues. I like to look nice but I'm not sure glamour has a place in my daily life. It is hard isn't it? To know what to teach our daughters... To value who they are as people not what they wear and what they put on their faces. I have mixed feelings. Tell me yours!

Let's Talk Bad Weekends

Last week was a nightmare, we were all looking forward to the weekend. It got off to a rocky start when my best friend was told that she didn't win the competition I told you all about here. The consolation prize was haircare products. Nice touch when you are fighting cancer and you have lost all your hair. Don't start me.

Sunday was meant to be spent on a morning picnic before I toddled off to one of Retromummy's sewing classes. Instead it was spent with my heart in my mouth as our baby girl was rushed to hospital in an ambulance after going grey, then blue and losing consciousness for about 7 minutes even though it felt like 70. At the hospital all manner of tests were conducted and they found no apparent cause. We have to take her back for an EEG.

This blurry photo taken on my husband's crackberry shows our brave little Tinker listening as the kind nurse sang all of her favourite songs. She was so lovely and quite the jukebox.

Tinker was impressed, she is never that still when I sing. It isn't humanly possible to be still when I sing, I'm so bad that even my dogs get agitated when I belt out a few rounds of Miss Polly.

Who is that hottie on the left cutting a striking pose in the navy and white trench complete with hands on hips? Why that is me of course. What you can't see is that under my trench I wore animal print flannelette pj pants, bed socks and tan loafers. My hair was clipped back with one of Tinker's polka dot ribbon clips and I had no bra, nor had I brushed my teeth.

Oh yes I totally rocked hobo sloth chic this morning. Even I didn't dare ask the ambulance to wait a minute while I changed out of my PJs. What kind of shamefully vain mother even stops and considers such a request? Ok so maybe I did think about it but only for a super quick split second... or two.

For anyone who follows me on Twitter, you'd know I have been on a cooking strike much to my husband's dismay. It came about after a string of failed projects. I thought I might break the strike with some corned beef in the slow cooker. Ok that worked. And a batch of cupcakes. The neverfail variety. You know Nigella's recipe for the food processor? I added 3 punnets of strawberries and some pricey but yummy vanilla beans.

Failed again. The first 12 didn't rise and remained gooey, the last 12 were like rock cakes. So I think I'm going back over the picket line. The strike has resumed people, the strike has resumed.

So tell me, how bad was your weekend? I'm not up for cheesy smiley stories. Give me some ratty grumpy ones so I'm not the only whinger here. Come on, you know you want to...

Monday Giveaway - Pork Chop Kids!

Ever so pleased to be starting the week with another giveaway!

This week our gorgeous prize comes from the lovely Meg at

Pork Chop Kids.

You might remember when I ordered the Tinker 6 pairs of these after stumbling upon Meg's fabulous store back in May? Well they were a hit in this house. The little Tinker loves them and I can't wash them quick enough because she goes through two pairs a day.

Always changing her mind and her outfits. She loves her little pork chops. They are perfect for my ultra-active girl. She bounces around the house day and night, regular socks are always falling off and getting lost. Not the chops!

They are the cutest, cleverest little things. I was so thrilled with them that I absolutely had to do a giveaway for the blog, so here we are today.




Meg says Pork Chops were born from the evolution of necessity…warmth, protection, easy diaper changes, no missing socks, non-skid and runway-ready fashion!

Meg is offering our lucky winner a pair of Pork Chops in the print and size of their choice! To enter all you need to do is check out Meg's store here and leave me a comment below telling me which print you like best and why.

You know the drill, Tinker will pick the winner on Friday morning. As always she is open to bribes. She likes grapes, cheese, chocolate and teddy bear biscuits.

Monday Giveaway - Gingerlilly PJs

I am so pleased to start the week with another wonderful giveaway!

This week's prize is from another fabulous store run by an Aussie! Vanessa Sofia is the founder of Gingerlilly sleepwear and I happily stumbled upon her company when I bought some gorgeous PJs for my little Tinker. In fact she was wearing them when she picked the winner for our first giveaway here.

The funny thing about these pjs is I bought them for the box, I thought it would fabulous on the bookshelf in her nursery and the PJs were an added bonus. Well they turned out to be Tinker's favourite PJs and the box looks a treat. See:

To enter this giveaway all you need to do is checkout Gingerlilly's online store here and have a look through their men's women's and baby's sections and let me know what you love.

Your prize is your choice of a pair of baby PJs like the ones the Tinker has.

They are made of the loveliest thickest cotton. Super soft on sweet baby skin. The sizes run large and my almost 18 month old still has plenty of the room in the 6-12 month size. Tinker has a few pairs, they are all gorgeous and you have 2 pages of colour/pattern options so you will definitely find the perfect pair. They come in the cutest boxes made from the same fabric and applique as the PJs. Perfect little keepsake boxes and ideal as gifts.

Thanks again Vanessa for this very generous prize. As usual Tinker will draw the winner on Friday, don't be shy please enter!

Stirrup Pants

image credit oligoville.com

These are for you Candy, you asked what on earth I was banging on about, well here they are. The Stirrup Pants. I think the picture speaks for itself.

Why oh why?

The Von

For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from a very serious and socially debilitating disease. Chronic Foot in Mouth Syndrome. I say it is a syndrome more so than a disease because there are a number of different features that define it, one of them is no matter how hard I try I always say the wrong thing. Most of my friends have been dining out on my shocking faux pas for years and I'm sure for many more to come because as far as I can see, there is no hope of a cure.

I was reminded the other day of a very funny one, it happened a few months ago at a to la-di-da corporate dinner where I was supposed to play the perfect corporate wife. You know the type that smiles, nods, laughs at lame jokes and says the occasional upbeat chipper comment about something harmless and lighthearted? Never the cynic and absolutely never the grump. The corporate wife has no worries and only thinks pretty, happy and friendly thoughts. I always set out to be this person, not because I feel I should but more as a challenge for myself.

I like to test myself to see if I can actually sit through one of these poxy dinners without saying one inappropriate thing. Anyway at this particular dinner a certain famous Australian actress was in attendance. One who seems to poo-poo commercialism except when it comes to a certain Japanese cosmetics brand. Anyway that's a whole other story. The night started out quite well apart from my awkward bathroom encounter with the above mentioned actress. You know those moments where, being under 5'5 you often walk straight into people's chests? Anyway I have those a lot. She was coming out and I was going in. Then we had that awkward encounter where one goes to the left but so does the other then the right then the lest and you end up looking like pair of pins in the bowling alley...

Ok so I was introduced to the wife of one of my husband's business acquaintances. We got chatting about surnames I can't remember why. She was saying she had a friend who changed his surname to his wife's first name. I thought that was interesting but asked why he didn't choose to take her surname, it was Bottom. Fair enough. Then I said my best friend and her husband both changed their surnames when they married, they chose a name that had special meaning to them. I said I'd probably choose something super toff, something with a von involved like last year's youngest billionaire Albert von Thurn und Taxis.

You all know how this story ends don't you? Madame with the perfect blonde quiff smiles pitifully at the poor washed up housewife wearing her mother's unironed sack of a dress (yes I really did wear one of my mum's dresses. Let's not even go there ok. Baby weight is hard to lose and nothing of mine would fit!) and she chuckles condescendingly, "oh my sister's married name is Von ...." something or other. Of course she is. Excellent.

Honestly you just can't take me anywhere!

Oh and for the single ladies, here is Albert, 25 and worth $2.0 bill. You'd think he could afford a nicer shirt.

image credit bittenandbound.com