You’re getting more What I Wore photos, today, but you needn’t worry that this blog is going to become a Style Blog. Primarily, I simply don’t — and you know this to be true — have the chops to be a Style Blogger. But the post I started writing yesterday turned out to be more soapbox-y than I’d intended, and I find I don’t want to take any of it back.
Instead, I thought I would lighten it somewhat with some OOTD (outfit of the day, remember?) photos — which, as you’ll see if you persevere in reading the whole post, also end up illustrating my point. I hope you’ll read it all, and leave a comment if you have a minute, but it’s a Monday morning and I know you’re busy. So before I lose you, let me just point out that Coffee Cup you’ll notice hovering somewhere on this page (on my screen, it’s bottom right; your mileage may vary š
Having long resisted monetizing here via remunerated links to retailers, I’ve started a Buy Me a Coffee account so that the content I produce regularly might generate at least enough income to pay for the costs of blogging. If it could eventually pay me for some of my labour / time, so much the better. Rather than being paid by a retailer for directing you to a product, I’ve found another option for readers to support the blog. You are still very welcome here if you’re not able or willing to Buy Me the occasional cup of Coffee, and I draw much encouragement from your comments, even just from knowing you’re visiting.
Also worth noting that this version of Buy Me a Coffee (unlike Patreon) is not a subscription model. You can buy me a coffee once or never or every time a post resonates strongly with you or simply pleases you. And I have no plans at the moment for putting anything behind a subscriber paywall. Okay, that’s it for the preamble . . . now onto my soapbox š Happy Monday!
First of all, thank you so much for your continuing kindness and encouragement as manifest in the comments (and, if I read the stats occasionally, in the number of visits — new and returning — and the time spent reading individual posts). As I’ve mentioned before, blogging regularly requires me to exercise my vulnerability muscle.
This is particularly true when it comes to those What I Wore photos, and when I scanned messages in my Spam folder yesterday for any mis-directed comments from legitimate readers, I recognized one of those very rare (I think I’ve had 4, maybe 5, in all the years I’ve been blogging) mean comments that are even more disturbing than the Russian porn bots. Something along the passive-agressive lines of thanking me for a post because she got so many laughs from my outfits.
Straight into the trash, that comment, and if my vulnerability muscle was threatening to spasm, I kept your more encouraging words in mind (and the stats, which always register increased visits for an OOTD post). And shortly afterward, on my trainer’s Instagram account, I saw this quotation from therapist Shomi Williams (@Shomicita on IG and Twitter): You don’t need to understand why people mistreat you. You don’t need to unpack their motives. You don’t need to centre their narrative. You just need to know that their behaviour is unacceptable and separate yourself from such harm. Centre your safety.
It seemed both relevant and useful to me yesterday, and perhaps you’ll find it so as well. It’s tough, some days, to find ways to centre or protect our safety while also risking the vulnerability that lets us grow, lets us connect with others as authentically and with as much integrity as possible. Constructive criticism I can welcome (oh yeah! How do you think I made it through writing and defending a doctoral dissertation! Ugh!), but petty meanness calculated simply to hurt? I suppose it was useful in reinforcing some principles and best practice.
It did send me back to thinking about vulnerability and the value of exercising it, as in that earlier post. It also reminded me to look up a reference made by a young(er) academic* on Twitter a few weeks ago. He’d “bellowed” the phrase “We are Cringe but we are Free” in one of his classes and was tickled that a few students responded appreciatively. I was intrigued because I’ve been noticing the word “cringe” take on a different weight in popular culture recently (my teen granddaughter spoke of a teacher being Cringe, for example). Well aware that my pop cultural literacy is waning with age, I turned to Google Search and found this illuminating and thought-provoking essay. The context is Music, but I’d argue it has much wider application, especially in today’s over-curated visual environment.
In the article, writer Hannah Coom writes of the Cringe we experience when witnessing someone else’s behaviour, perceived by us as embarrassing; she then distinguishes between compassionate and contemptuous cringe. It’s the latter, presumably, that renders “cringe . . . a symptom of anticipated rejection.” And here’s the paragraph that shone out for me:
I would go as far as to argue that contemptuous cringe culture invokes a flattening of identity which reduces the individual to the supposedly embarrassing thing they enjoy and revels in humiliation as a form of entertainment. It is also worth mentioning at this point that this type of behaviour is often reflective of a certain level of insecurity and is rooted in the terror of public ridicule. After all, it is easier to laugh than be laughed and and to be cringe is to not be in on the joke.
Hannah Coom, “I Am Cringe But I Am Free,” The Everyday Magazine
Coom goes on to consider Harry Styles’ defence of his young female fans against those who would cringe, contemptuously, at the perceived inherent un-coolness of their “passionate sincerity.” From there she lands on Susan Sontag’s theorizing of Camp — and then she explores “an overlap between the camp and the cringe.” And it’s here that she finds the freedom my younger academic friend* was recommending his students claim by owning their cringe. The freedom exists in the potential to “dethrone the serious,” using a playful approach to facilitate “a new, more complex relation to the serious. One can be serious about the frivolous, frivolous about the serious” (She’s quoting directly from Sontag’s Notes on Camp).
All of this, as you might suspect, leads me back to the value of risking vulnerability. Particularly for women, whose behaviour and appearance in public space has long been policed. Violent, egregious examples of this fill news headlines worldwide (what’s happening in Iran right now but also threats and attacks on female politicians here in Canada recently). But we have also been constrained in the way we represent ourselves in writing, as Sidonie Smith explored in her research into women’s autobiography, our life-writing.
And what I do here on the blog, in my own small way (remember the philosophy of the hummingbird, which I explained back in this post?), is a form of life-writing, a “fiction of self-representation,” to borrow Smith’s words. There’s no denying that I sort and select when I’m deciding what to include here, so you aren’t going to see “All of Me.” But I will occasionally share something that makes me cringe — and perhaps will make you do so as well. Compassionately, I hope. With awareness that I am more than that cringe-worthy moment. With a refusal to flatten anyone’s identity (to echo Coom’s words) in such a way that reduces her to that single embarrassing thing she enjoys.
Because so much of our humanity resides in those embarrassing moments, I suspect. And because diversity of representation is more important now than ever.
Okay, that’s enough from me, to you, this morning. “I am Cringe, but I am Free”!
Now let me pass you the microphone.
xo,
f
*we met once, many years ago, as seat-mates on a flight home from an academic conference; I’ve “followed” him in Social Media ever since, and much admire his thinking and writing
Not only do I abhor unkind, rude comments on social media , but I also wonder why those who make them have so much free time on their hands. Perhaps they could find something more worthwhile to fill their days- even watching paint dry would be of more value than the time they spend composing their unpleasant words. Please ignore them- hopefully the fact that most of us enjoy your photos as you live your life ( to mention the marvelous book reviews) will balance out those others.
Author
Thanks Rosemary! Comments like this are, thankfully, very rare. I hope my post emphasizes the importance of keeping that in mind, focusing instead on the “power of vulnerability” (Brene Brown’s term).
** Edit- ā not to mentionā¦.ā
Reminder to self- read back what you write!
Author
You caught that quickly! š
Frances, I recently found your blog through High Heels in the Wilderness. I too have noticed an uptick in the cavalier nature of people who seem to revel in causing hurt. And while – yes – we know that these people are particularly wounded souls, at times it becomes overwhelming to take the high road….it can be lonely on that path. I would like to say that I find your blog to be inspirational and the ootd posts are particularly interesting- precisely because our styles are so different. As I anticipate my own retirement from university life this summer, I am challenged to think about my wardrobe, and how it might reflect my new lifestyle…..and new image? sense of self? what I’m doing? where I’m going? What I admire about your personal style is that is seems to flow organically from a person who has figured this out! So thank you !
Author
Kind, thoughtful, and encouraging words, Lorelie, thank you!
You have an adventure ahead in all the possibilities retirement will offer you. Looking back over the last 7 years, I can see the changes I’ve made to my own style, and I’m pleased to hear that it seems an organic reflection of me. We’re all works in progress, right? So not surprising our style would be as well. . .
I believe your vulnerability is a manifestation of your charm. Don’t allow other people’s insecurities cloud your day. Shine on, you’re a beacon of optimism. Vitamin YOU.
Author
Thanks, Carol! I believe as you do, that vulnerability can be a strength and I appreciate very much the validation and encouragement you offer xo
I was delighted to see your post today, it always cheers me no end to read your newsletter. I am sorry that you received such an unkind/cruel email or post. I believe there is something with social media, that at once can make you feel āconnectedā and yet seems so faceless, that some say/post things they would never say to a real person. Or at least I would hope not. I might suggest just not going into spam to find anymore such posts, maybe Google already thought the comment trash and disposed of it for you?
For myself I love your posts OTD, though your style differs from mine. I love your lists of books read and have found many good authors. Your travel posts are a delight.
I cannot imagine the amount of time and energy that must go into a blog, and I thank you.
Author
Thanks for the kind words, Lesley. Have no fear, I’m well over any momentary discomfort caused by that comment, but it served as an opportunity to think again about the power of vulnerability which, for me, far outweighs the risks it poses (depending on context, of course).
Blogging does, indeed, consume oodles of time and energy; it’s so gratifying to read comments like yours and know the effort is appreciated.
Bravo for your bravery! Yours is one of the most interesting and thoughtful blogs I read, and one of my favorite reasons why is your honesty in presenting your thoughts and life experiences in ways that are relevant to me. And always so well written! I am very sorry that you had such a mean comment – itās beyond belief that people can be so unnecessarily cruel. I always enjoy seeing photos of your outfits, so I hope you will keep doing that. Blogging is such a one-sided affair, with all the work and openness on the side of the blogger, while the reader gets to remain anonymous. Thank you!
Author
Thanks Marcie! As I just replied to Lesley, given how much blogging demands of the writer, it’s so gratifying to know that readers find something worthwhile in it. Your encouragement is much appreciated.
As others have already said, I enjoy your blog because it’s intelligent and well-written and because it’s more than simply a fashion blog (or a shopping blog as many of them have become). I enjoy your thoughts and your perspective on life, your travel posts, and yes, your OOTDs. Your style is different than mine and that’s okay. In fact, that’s the way it should be! You be you and I’ll be me, and let’s just ignore those who are so insecure in their own beings that they have to put other people down!
Author
Thanks for the encouragement and the kind words about Materfamilias Writes, Elaine. I know that, as a fellow blogger, you understand the work and thought and vulnerability that go into our posts — and the rewards we reap in connecting with our readers.
All of the commenters on this post have already said it, but I’ll back them by saying that I love reading your blog. You are thoughtful, clever and creative. You also strike me as kind. I envy your use of language and your attention to detail in your writing. We are lucky to have someone like you to read.
In terms of style, thank goodness that you have it and that we all have a different sense of what it is for ourselves. How boring if we were all sporting the same outfits. I don’t understand why anyone would bother to take the time to express dislike of a blogger’s outfit, but it doesn’t matter. Those are the types of comments to move on from as quickly as possible. They aren’t helping anyone.
I love denim shirts and have a new darker denim version with a little ruffle. I’m planning to wear it soon.
Author
So many kind words here, Dottie! Thank you so much! And yes, we move away from the gratuitous unkindness quickly and focus instead on the positive that comes from remove our armour just a bit š
Perhaps you’ll feature that new denim shirt (ruffles! I love the tough and sweet together) in a blog or Instagram post soon. I’ll be watching. . .
Hi Francis, I like that you follow your own way in fashion. When people do that, regardless if posted on a blog or attending to life, I think they need to be prepared to be accepting of others opinions that are different. Freedom of expression cuts all ways. Iām uncomfortable when bloggers share that people sometimes make mean comments. I think no one intends to be mean and folks commenting are vulnerable too. Sincerely, Kari
Kari, do you really think that a reader telling a blogger that she gets a good laugh from seeing the bloggerās choice of clothing is merely a ādifferentā opinion? If someone said that to you in person, would you accept it as a different opinion? I donāt think āmeanā and ādifferentā mean the same thing in any context. And no-one has a right to be mean.
Kari’s comment has resonated with me and I agree with her that a wide range of reactions to clothing choices, books enjoyed, etc. will obviously include the gamut of emotions. And yes, stating one’s opposing take or view does make one vulnerable too. Not all of us are as articulate as a writer either so one must make allowances for word choices that might read harshly or critically. However, and here is where I believe the unkindness enters (perhaps unintentionally or unknowingly), criticizing an outfit posted by a beloved blogger is not the same as analyzing a store mannequin. Her choice has been made, the clothes now are part of her projected persona, she is sharing her āselfā with us and that should be respected and appreciated.
Author
Thanks for the comment, Kari. I appreciate you wanting to protect or defend another human, but I must disagree with you: Some people absolutely do intend to be mean. And it’s okay to say that Meanness is not okay. You may absolutely have a different opinion than I do, but I needn’t tolerate meanness from anyone.
Frances (which for anyone reading is spelled with an “e” in a woman’s name, and with an “i” in a man’s name — funny old English language, right?)
As you said once to me when I’d been on my own soapbox on my blog… “Preach sister.” We’re with you. I had not heard that use of the word “cringe.” Then again it’s been almost ten years since I was in the classroom, so I have no one to keep me up to date. I mean, who had even heard of “bougie” until recently? Not me.
I know I am cringe. When I was teaching I used to revel in it, and the kids would frequently cringe, quite literally, or groan which is the same thing really. Happily it was almost always kindly meant and not sneering, or contemptuous. As in… eye roll… poor Ms. Burpee… off on one of her stories again. Ha.
I also recognized as I read your post that this is what a friend was doing to me a few years ago. Cringing at my blog. Tossing out remarks which were meant to express her dismissal of my “work.” I still remember when we were in England and I had arranged to meet a reader who had become a friend, and she commented “What time is your fan picking us up?” But said in a tone that made it clear I was exceedingly cringe-worthy.
What was that line in Brave New World where John “claims them all”? All the imperfections and pain and discomfort that the “perfect” Brave New World has eradicated, but which make life real and give it value, instead of perfect and fake and hollow. Let’s all claim our cringe.
P.S. Good for you to embrace the coffee cup as well. xo
Author
Thanks for the solidarity, Sue!
What you were doing in the classroom is such a good demonstration of the power of vulnerability. I found that with my (only slightly older, for the most part) students as well. They might cringe for or at you, but your willingness to expose yourself would have opened space for them to risk loosening some of that teenaged armour as well.
Completely different than the example of your friend’s contemptuous cringing.
And of course you have a brilliant literary reference to illustrate the dangers of eradicating supposed imperfections. No discomfort, perhaps, but such an anodyne life would be so boring!
A couple of thousand years ago when I was a teen a woman who was a “friend” of my Mom called her “outfit” Mumsy….and it was meant to mean frumpy and therefore a put down. When this woman was out of earshot my Mom said to my sisters and I: “I would rather be Mumsy than out of reach….I am comfortable in this and kids and dogs are comfortable with me….I can get down on the floor and play or pull a few weeds or shop for groceries in what I am wearing. I know how to get dressed up if that is required but I am not going to live my life with one style of dressing for everything I do” She would have balked at the idea that a person must find their style and stick to it….she was a Fibre Artist so creativity was her thing…
Yup she was a free thinker and regularly passed that on to us
Author
Oh, Lauren, you were so lucky to have had a Mom like that! As you’re obviously well aware — what a legacy!
She knew how to honour her own creativity and style and not be governed by other’s expectations — brava!
Brilliant and compassionate here.
I do enjoy your posts!
Author
Thanks, Janet! I appreciate your encouraging words.
Yours is by far the most intelligent and thought-provoking blog I read, though I rarely comment. Vulnerability is what allows connection, and I thank you and honor you for taking that risk with your readers. As for your OOTD photos – I love them and as far as I’m concerned, you can post them every week. Your clothes are very individually you and have broadened my horizons immensely. In my small town there isn’t much variation in what women wear, and that’s boring. I always feel a little self-conscious if I wear something that is different from the lowest common denominator around here, though clothes have always been an interest of mine. It’s purely a delight to see what you wear. You’ve given me courage to wear what makes me feel like myself – and isn’t that the point?
Author
Such a thoughtful and encouraging comment, Janie. Thank you! You’ve understood what I’m trying to say here, that I’m happy (if uncomfortable at times) to be vulnerable if it means a better chance to connect with others. I believe, as you do, that vulnerability is a power worth its risks.
And see? It brought me the reward of your lovely comment — I love to think I might have helped you wear what makes you feel most like yourself. I think it is the point! Yes!
Vulnerability,together with intelligence,authenticity,creativity,curiosity,zest for life….it is a superpower! And when you decide to share it with others on social media,to build a wonderful community,to start discussions…..beautifully written….did I mention superpower?
Poor “she who got so many laughs from your outfits”…… these comments are so much more about them,not you. It is rude,it was meant to be rude ….
Do one has to read/ watch/ do something (optional) if one didn’t like it? No. Full stop.Ā
Dottoressa
P. S. I love your bronze(it looks completely bronze on my screen) velour top,I have similar one,bronze-gold and love it so much,but it is too small at the moment
Author
I agree with you, absolutely! Vulnerability is a superpower (BrenƩ Brown has a video on this, I think, pretty convincing)
I can imagine you wearing this bronze-gold colour and rocking it! We could wear them both for Å”pica! š
I agree with those who say that your blog is one of the most interesting of those they read and I think your willingness to be vulnerable is one of it’s strengths. I do read several blogs, most by mature women but so many seem to be mostly about fashion. here I always find something interesting, what you wore of course but also ideas and couture, for example. What you wear is an extension of who you are, and someone I want to know. I rarely comment on other blobs except yours and one or two more. I did read a very recent post on the blog, Accidental Icon, which is about similar ideas, how we dress as older women and what others expect of us. Lyn, the author, is recently retired, does not post often but has a lot to say about women and getting older. For some reason I did not get a notification of your current post, but I checked to see and here it was.
Author
Thanks, Darby. I always appreciate your presence here — and I’m sorry to hear that you didn’t get an email for this post. Let me know if that happens again, would you?
I look at Accidental Icon occasionally, mostly on Instagram — generous of you to compare my blog with hers, which is much more stylish! Interesting to watch the shifts she’s gone through this last year or two. . .
It amazes me how many people want to be small , petty and nasty minded ,
in public . Don’t let them spoil who you are.
Author
Happy to have you here, Mary!
All of the earlier comments express my thoughts better than I can, but I do want to be on the record as loving your OOTD pics. Even when they are not to my taste, I can still appreciate your commitment to sustainability and learn from the way you mix wardrobe pieces. That green-bronze velour top really jumped out at me – so luxurious, but versatile, too.
Thank you for sharing yourself with us.
Author
You’re very welcome, Wendy, and thanks for the encouragement! And I have to agree with you about the velour top — it’s sweatshirt-comfy but the velour means that it dresses up anything I pair it with. It jumped out at me as well, four or five years ago, marked down in a winter sale.
I really enjoy seeing your oufits. Achieving cohesion between the practicalities of our lives, our personalities and clothes we enjoy is a work in progress for all of us who find pleasure in the visual aspect of clothing. Added interest for me is a glimpse into life on the other side of the world.
I also applaud you for calling out sly and spiteful comments. We had an extended family member who we excused for years on the basis of āshe canāt have meant that the way it sounded, she must be having a bad day, thatās just X.ā It is not acceptable, it can do a lot of damage and none us should tolerate it.
Cringe used in that sense is not something Iāve noticed but I bet Iāll see it everywhere now.
Author
Thanks Lilibet! I appreciate the encouragement — and I’ll be curious if you do start seeing this use of “cringe.”
I like the emphasis you put on cohesion as a work in progress. The way we put our clothes together is merely another representation of that, but it’s an interesting one for many of us, and a step in getting to know each other.
Came for the outfit, stayed for the Sontag.
In moments when I am met with a comment such as the one you received, I TRY to acknowledge that the speaker is acting from a place of pain and/or insecurity AND that it must be horrible to be them. I am not excusing or minimizing or ignoring it, just trying to put it in its proper place in my schema.
I am not always successful with this approach but it helps me to remember it is about THEM and I donāt have to make it about me.
Author
Oh, I’m so pleased that someone appreciated the Sontag! š
Yes, I want to be as kind as possible always. As long as I’m not allowing unkindness to myself or allowing fear of unkindness to constrain my actions. And easier some days than others, as you suggest.
In this case, because the mean comment was virtually anonymous (a pseudonym) and came from a distant country, it didn’t carry much weight but served as a useful example to theorize.
There must be something in the air. Yesterday, walking to work, I came to the conclusion that I have been using the wrong phraseology for some time now; I used to say: I don’t care what people think. And that is not strictly true because, like 99% of humans, of course I want to be applauded/appreciated/valued but the key thing for me is that is not the reason I do whatever it is I do in my life. If people don’t like my decisions or actions, the most I can do is shrug and smile because I certainly don’t feel I need to apologise. Feeling out of step with the world I live in has become my default and somehow, within this, I thrive. All things considered, thriving is a fine aim. As for those pass-agg, often anonymous, frequently ill-spelled comments that demonstrate a roiling bile of envy and unhappiness…I have a mental picture of the writers, hunched over a laptop in a darkened room, perhaps with unkempt hair. Certainly not with a circle of friends, laughing in the sunshine and feeling merry. Punishment enough. BTW that brown velvet top…those toffee-coloured shoes. Autumn comfort.
Author
Thanks, Annie! I’m always inspired by what seems to be your robust sense of self (in the best possible way, I don’t at all mean egotistical and I hope that’s clear!). I can get to the “shrug and smile,” but very often I will first work at explaining, if not apologizing (not ruling out the latter; I mean, I’m Canadian, right? š I’ve been hearing a bit about the Japanese concept of ikigai recently, and I recognize something of this regularly in your writing. . .
Feeling out of step with the world I live in has become my default and somehow, within this, I thrive. All things considered, thriving is a fine aim. Absolutely! Out-of-step-ness seems almost a necessary default for the aware, these days.
I hear you. I am starting to feel distinctly ‘cringe’, myself at times and even this morning had an internal fight with myself when shopping for something to wear on Friday night, for a meal followed by a gig. Black skinny jeans, a floaty top with a very mild Biker vibe and short cowboy boots all caught my eye. I really loved them, but I struggled with the thought of that outfit with my menopausal tummy, my fast wrinkling neck, and thinning post menopausal hair, and my ageing, lumpy knees. In fact, I cringed. Then I thought ‘I don’t give a f***k if I am ‘too old’ for this outfit, I’m going to go for it’. And I did. But it took more courage than it really should have to buy those clothes, and I hope I feel courageous enough to wear them on Friday night. It’s very hard balancing ageing with still looking fashionable. I always love your OOTD posts, and I am sorry someone said something nasty. Let them wait til they are 50 or 60+ and standing under the glare of a neon light staring at a full length mirror in a changing room. I hope they repent at that point. Go on being fabulous Frances, you look fantastic x
Author
Oh, Penny! I’m clapping for you here, for buying the outfit (and for the four-letter word, truth be told š The only time I remember using that word in this blog was back in 2010 when I wrote about buying and wearing a moto-style leather jacket ). Now you really must wear it on Friday night and enjoy your fabulous self in it! (I still have that jacket, btw, albeit ripped and mended a few times over the years, and I wear it regularly still; but it seems funny to remember having contemplated being “too old” for it when I was only mid-50s!)
I’m sorry you got hit with that drive-by comment, Frances, and very happy that you were able to deal with it as it deserved and move on. On my charitable days I do feel sorry for that sort, imagining how unhappy their life must be that they can only derive pleasure from being randomly mean. On my not so charitable days, well, different story. š Funny enough, a friend and I were talking on our walk today about how our husbands are so much nicer than we are, and that they remind us to do better simply by being who they are.
Love the gold/bronze/green top on you! Excellent find, and how nice that it works with the new pants as well. And the hammered copper earrings are a delight. Please tell the nine-almost-10 “Good job!”
Hello, Frances,
I find great pleasure in reading your blog. Its tone is always respectful and it’s unfortunate that responses are sometimes, even if rarely, not. I like the book posts, the travel posts, the commentaries on life in general. I like the OOTD and style thoughts too. I find your style creative and appealing, an eclectic mix that encompasses the classic and the funky. Sometime an outfit has prompted me to try something similar from my own closet; other times I think “that looks great on her–wouldn’t work for me.” And isn’t that what puts the personal into “personal style?” I love sharing books, food and recipe ideas, as well as fashion with friends. I always come away enriched by these conversations. Sometimes I rejoice in the overlap of our taste and other times I learn from our differences. I think of your blog as a place for such conversation and I resolve to respond by commenting more often, rather than just letting my responses rumble around in my head.
And I will happily buy you a coffee now and then. I like the opportunity to do so–nice addition!
Your blog always makes me happy and content with my life. And, additionally, the comments you receive from the majority of your readers emphasize the fact that I’m “normal” at age 71 and I appreciate you so much. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for addressing such a variety of topics and issues geared to “us”!
We are cringe, all of us, and many of us are striving to be free:). You know I love your thoughtfulness AND your very personal style, and niener niener niener to the insulters LOL just to make clear that it’s possible to be childish and yet not injure anyone. xoxox
My yoga instructorās email address is āyoubeyouā and I couldnāt agree more. I used to worry that someone was being unfriendly or cold to me because of me but finally realized it had nothing at all to do with me! Maybe they had some terrible news that day. In any case, all I could do was continue to radiate the fabulous me.
I enjoy your blog for your thoughtfulness and insights.
You are a model of kindness and thoughtful humanity. I love your blog posts, all of them, and I have learned so much from you about creativity, integrity and caring about each other and our troubled world. You are a very talented woman and I appreciate your generosity in sharing your perspective and insights on culture, the natural environment and relating to others. The mean comment says a lot about the writer and nothing about you. Being vulnerable is an act of bravery. Please keep writing, sharing and being vulnerable, x
what an illuminating entry to your blog! I love your posts! I love your OOTD (you should see mine–gray is the predominant color and comfort the dominant feature! I think you look quite snappy in your great coat, the beret and the yellow boots. Whoo hoo!! I rarely dress to go beyond my exercise and studio efforts and while I’m not IG worthy, I feel like I don’t have sufficient time to worry too much about such things. I do like to look good when actually ‘out and about’, so don’t get me wrong. The online Mean People are to be filtered out. I’m covetous of your pull on corduroy pants. š
Always a big thank you for keeping life real for us here and for your lovely outfits, your photos and sketchbook and your book recommendations.
Author
Thanks for the supportive and encouraging comments, Sally! I’m pleased to know you find my blog worthwhile.