CHANGE OF ADDRESS
Awoke this morning and read my favourite blog. I have a love hate relationship with Abigail Ahern’s design advice. I love her because her ‘go for it’ advice is the reason my once magnolia home now looks AMAZING – and more importantly made the cover of Scotland on Sunday magazine.
But the more I read her addictive style of decorating the more I want to buy and embellish a home that (as I’m downsizing) doesn’t need more stuff. She’s the interior equivalent to Carrie Bradshaw – who led a completely fabricated existence of consumption gone wild. It doesn’t help that like Carrie/SJP Abigail also has curly hair.
I hate shopping and am not a natural spender. When it comes to clothing I hate change and could happily live in 5 pairs of identical black leggings and hoodies over grey or white t shirts and a simple black designer dress for dressier occasions.
I only shop when I’m avoiding something – reality, work, my children – the disturbing fact that right now my daughter’s lying in a bath full of water in the mermaid tail costume I bought her
wishing she could swim away.
I love painting because it demands I wear my favourite dress code (leggings). I dislike working in an office because office attire requires tights.
When I found myself single overnight I took in lodgers, got myself a job in London, rented my home out for film, TV and advertising shoots and promptly made a fortune. Only to find myself panic buying the very lifestyle my cohabiting self had just rejected.
I’m all for moving on, firmly focused on the future. But if you don’t address your shortcomings, how will changing your address leave you anywhere but firmly back where you started? At some point don’t we have to evaluate our priorities, stop buying things and pay off all our debts? I couldn’t help but wonder, “can you really change your future without reflecting on your past?”
The married me bought a lot of stuff happy me would never look at twice. Sometimes when you lose your bearings what you really lose is who you are. Working me was like Miranda. But mother-to-be me became enthralled to a witty, pretty writer who spent her way to happiness. Like Carrie, I couldn’t secure the undivided attention of the man I planned to marry. There were always other women – at dinner, at airport check-ins, in hotel lobbies, by the pool and at the office.
I fear without reflection my life will come full circle. Once again I’ll be adrift in the very place I’m trying to escape.
Because at the end of yet another failed relationship, when all I
have want is my kids happiness, my own wealth health, and to eradicate my lingering self-doubt “I couldn’t help but wonder, no matter how far you travel or how much you run from it, can you ever really escape your past?” (SATC Episode thirteen, “Escape from New York”)