Those of you that have been following my blog for a while, will remember my post about thedaythecameracrewcametothe gym. I described in eye-watering detail my gym outfit: a pair of grey, long cotton supermarket shorts; a scruffy, old green t-shirt; black socks and cheap trainers. Nice!
So, decided I should at least look the part at the gym. It’s no good being able to talk the talk, I have to be able to walk the walk as well – and preferably walk that walk in rather nice matching lycra. So here is my new outfit: Keep on reading!
One year ago today I started my blog – two months after my 50th birthday. Call it a midlife crisis if you will; cheaper than buying a sports car and more seemly than running off with the gardener… Keep on reading!
I often go to the supermarket looking like I’ve been sleeping under a railway bridge for a week: hair scraped up, no make-up, tracksuit bottoms, scruffy trainers, pyjama top (I kid you not) and shapeless cardigan (buttoned up to hide the pyjama top!) Keep on reading!
Today I was at the dentist for a filling. My dentist is young, gorgeous and always up for a bit of a chat; so returning for a filling isn’t as bad as it would be if he was ancient and brusque with bad breath and smelly armpits. Keep on reading!
Had been at the gym 10 minutes today when a member of staff came over to tell me that a film crew would be coming in to make a promotional film clip, for You Tube . She then asked if I was ok about being in it. No I chuffing was not!
Decided that, as a fully grown adult, I should be able to create a smokey eye when I go out wearing full make up (full make up as opposed to last night’s mascara, smudged eyebrows and a look of apology). On numerous occasions I’ve attempted to get the smokey, sultry look – and failed every time. I invariably end up looking like I should be spending my evening standing on a street corner, propping up a bar scaring innocent young men or draped around a pole – having first tried to stuff my middle-aged muffin top into ridiculously tiny bits of lace.
So, in the supermarket today, I headed to the make up counters in search of eye shadow. The palette currently residing in my make-up drawer has been there at least 10 years and includes: bright green and blue, a worn out brush, a cracked mirror and the odd cat hair.
I felt that powder eye shadow was probably best; cream tends to congeal in my eyelid creases, point-blank refuses to blend and has been absorbed into my body within an hour of being applied. I fleetingly dabbled with colour tattoo eye make-up a while ago. The problem with this however, is that it won’t come off. Red, watery, puffy eyes is a look I can manage on my own thanks without the aid of a cotton wool pad soaked in industrial strength cleanser and 10 minutes of scrubbing gentle dabbing.
Found a stand with little pots of testers in every colour you could imagine. My eyes lit up. Was drawn to an off-white, sparkly one. Carefully extending my finger I placed it into the pot, ready to test its suitability – only to discover that not only was it not eye shadow but that it was actually body shimmer. And therefore, extremely loose and powdery.
Spent rest of my time in the supermarket with a finger nail full of shimmer, a cascade of it down my coat, rogue specks glinting up at me from the tops of my shoes and a firm resolution to give myself a good talking to and give up on the smokey eye, love!