It is with great sadness that I have to admit that I was forced to seek some therapy this weekend.
Kurt has been flipping the bird at the house rules again, (more of that in a later post), and I have been struggling to focus and get my work done with the old man hanging around the house on annual leave and being as demanding as a fourth child.
Which has led to a serious bout of cabin fever.
As you are aware, I have always been a firm believer in seeking help when it is needed, which is precisely why I headed straight to the Kirribilli Markets and Pitt St mall on a self-help mission yesterday.
For some REAL WOMEN’S therapy.
I got up early, donned the best Bohemian look I could muster and armed with my morning coffee from my favourite local café I began my mission in earnest.
I started at the market and found this rocking jumper for NC which fed the beast of homesickness that has been bubbling gently beneath the surface of my gloom. I’m a sucker for anything with a union jack on it and this soothing little piece of patriotism cost me the small fortune of $5:
But there just wasn’t enough ‘orange’ or ‘bling’ to get my heart racing at the market.
So, undeterred, I headed off to Pitt St Mall to finish what I had started.
I had visions of finding the perfect little outfit to transform me into Charlize Theron…
But the sad truth is that
I don’t have Charlize’s body, face or money as much as I love decadence and frivolity, my lifestyle doesn’t really extend to the need for much gold lame evening wear, so I ended up in my usual stores.
Did I mention that I have a passion for anything orange or fabulously blinging at the moment? For some reason, most of the middle-aged women I know need a bit of sparkle in their lives, these days. Hmmmmm?
And I tried on lots of silly accessories in Sports Girl, like these:
Because when I become Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and wear lots of very silly accessories (that I know will look crap and I have no intention of buying), I feel a whole lot better than when I JUST shove chocolate in my mouth.
Am I alone in feeling like this, ladies?
Then I discovered lots of lovely bling in Zara too.
It didn’t even matter that I didn’t buy anything, because the left-over Easter eggs and wine were still waiting at home to be inhaled.
What’s makes your feel better about yourself?