THE THING ABOUT STAYCATIONS

A staycation is defined as a holiday spent in one’s home country rather than abroad, or one spent at home and involving day trips to local attractions.  Living on the UK mainland, it is almost ridiculously easy for me to hop on an Easyjet flight and be in any number of European countries in less than three hours.  I have therefore given little thought to the concept of a staycation.  However, when some friends of mine from the big bad city wanted to get away from it all for a few days, somebody suggested a little cottage on a little farm in a little village in the Welsh Valleys.  I immediately typed the postcode into Google maps… it was ten minutes down the road from where I live!

The price was right for a converted barn slightly off the beaten track and I made my way along the eight miles of progressively bumpy roads to our new home for the next few days.  Our long weekend was filled with takeaways, walks and wine and by Monday I felt as refreshed as if I had been on a mini-break to the South of France.  In fact, my familiarity with the area and not having to worry about forgetting to pack something (after all I could just nip home and get it if I did!) removed a lot of the stress associated with international travel.  It was all just so easy!

Some of the more mercenary of you might ask why I would fork out the money to pay for accommodation when I have a perfectly good bedroom in my own home, but I still experienced that feeling of excitement and anticipation when you first open the door to a shiny new hotel room or Continental villa.  I am also fortunate enough to live in a region where the scenery and landscape change dramatically from mile to mile so I was just as awed by the panoramic views as my city-dwelling friends.  If we are being really thrifty, there is also the fact that I saved a lot on petrol.

I hope you enjoy my pics and that you do not dismiss the staycation concept out of hand.  While I cannot see myself relinquishing my beloved exotic holidays, I have definitely been converted to dedicating a weekend here and there to exploring my homeland.

5 CLUTCH BAG ESSENTIALS

My best friend and I hit Manchester’s Northern Quarter on Saturday night and while I was at the bar, holding my ground like any self-respecting cocktail seeker, I started rummaging around in my lovely Marc Jacobs clutch.  Cue blogging light bulb moment:  Top 5 clutch bag essentials for a night out (apart from the obvious vitals like phone, money, ID etc. of course).  

1)  A pack of tissues.  A mini pack of Kleenex can save a night, be they a necessary replacement for the inevitable toilet roll deficit or coming to the make-up rescue of an emotional friend.  

2)  A compact mirror.  Why is there always a queue in the ladies bathrooms?  Surely not just because every girl spends an inordinate amount of time spending a penny (I personally blame the impractical architecture of ‘the playsuit,’) but because us ladies cannot resist the lure of a mirror to fix flyaways and eyeliner smudges.  If every girl had a mirror, the system would be much more efficient.

3)  Cheap make-up essentials.  When combined with the clumsy effects of alcohol, the open nature of most clutch bag designs render it entirely likely that certain contents will vanish throughout the night.  The number of Lancome eyeliners and Mac blushers I have lost on such occasions makes me want to weep.  I therefore only take cheapy, years-old powders and pencils out with me.

4)  Perfume testers.  A mini bottle of perfume is all you need to help give you a boost half way through the evening and takes up far less bag space than its expensive 100ml counterpart.

5)  Translucent powder.  An inexpensive face powder is a great way to remove that pesky sheen which accompanies certain vigorous moves.  Feel free to let loose on the dance floor without worrying about looking like a sweaty mess afterwards with a quick blot here and there.

A final tip when packing for a night out is less is more.  Just because some marvellously designed clutch bags offer suitcase-loads of space does not mean we immediately have to fill every square inch.  Save yourself from needless tipsy rummaging time by keeping items to a minimum.

THE BREAK UP/ CHEER UP CARE PACKAGE

I love a good care package.  At Christmas my big sister will give me a surprise box of goodies stuffed with make-up, smellies, candles… the list goes on and the gift keeps on giving.  Did your school ever contribute to the Christmas Shoebox Scheme?  I would spend hours arranging and rearranging the crayons and teddy bears in my box for maximum visual impact upon opening by my African recipient.  It comes as no surprise that the combination of my The Thing About Break-ups post and stumbling upon this adorable popcorn bowl inspired a new care package idea.

As a friend and shoulder to cry on, I think it is equal parts important to provide both sympathy and distraction.   Too much moping doesn’t help anybody but tears are somewhat inevitable in this situation, hence the tissues, booze and chocolate.  However, the surest way of curing depression is through laughter: enter comedy DVDs and popcorn.  And finally, exercise and a pro-active attitude are vital to healthy emotional recovery, so within my care package I have included a diary so that you and your friends can jam-pack the break-upee’s schedule with lots of day trips, picnics, walks and of course cocktail/dancing/getting-back-on-the-horse evenings in the near future.  

Contents

1 metal popcorn bowl from Parlane International; 1 bag of toffee popcorn; 2 comedy DVDs; 1 bar of chocolate; 2 packs of colourful tissues; 1 bottle of prosecco; 1 Cath Kidston diary.

You will notice that none of the contents include scissors, a lighter or any aggressively feminist self helps books.  This is for two reasons: firstly, they say the closest thing to love is hate, so if you nurture loathing for an ex, cutting their heads off in photographs or building a pyre for past Kodak moments, all you do is keep the flame of bitterness alive.  As supportive friends we are ultimately aiming for, if not amicability between exes, then at least a nice placid indifference.  Secondly, and this is important, there is always the chance that a relationship termination won’t stick.  Do not invest time and energy into bitching about how you never really liked your friend’s boyfriend anyway when it is entirely possible that they will be back together by week’s end.  And yes I have been burned by this before.  So best to provide non-committal responses.  

Just for fun I have also done a Luxury Break-Up Package (for people who are ‘Made in Chelsea’ or live in Buckingham Palace.)

1)  Gym Membership - Gym must include sauna, spa and massage treatments.

2)  Voucher for personal shopper in Selfridges, Harrods, Liberties (or all of the above) for complete makeover.

3)  2 around the world tickets - what better way to get over someone than getting on a plane with your bestie, headed for adventures unknown?

THE THING ABOUT BREAK-UPS

So here’s the thing: due to the appalling lack of, well, anything in the cobweb-ridden recesses of my relationship history circa pre-2009, I have never actually been through a break-up.  However, they say those who can’t do teach and therefore I have found myself doling out years of advice extracted directly from various chapters of what I like to think of as ‘The Best Friend Textbook.’

One of my closest friends once referred to me as the textbook best friend and I have tried to abide by these self-imposed unwritten laws of sisterhood ever since.  It must be my geek tendencies which ensure that whenever I fall at a friendship hurdle I always have that gut wrenching feeling kin to failing a test, only instead of some government funded curriculum, these are life laws which cannot be re-sat to get a pass grade.  Every slip-up must be paid for in hours of insomnia and perpetual anxiety.  Needless to say, I try very hard to be a good best bud.

One of the key components when sailing aboard the HMS Friend Ship (feel free to shoot me now,) is listening.  And what better way to prove your mate-mettle than paying witness to relationship woes?  Surprisingly this was a lot easier when I was single.  It used to be if the guy is an idiot, sack him off and let’s get drunk.  Now, I am older and wiser.  Oh don’t get me wrong, if the guy is a douche the answer is still sack and sip but the road to unbearable behaviour is getting longer by the year.  

I suppose now that I have my own romantic relationship to maintain, I am just as invested as my counterparts in ironing out familiar niggles such as the boyfriend interrupting a supposedly solitary bathing session for the fifth time in an evening (you know who you are.)  After all, if another long standing couple can’t overcome these pesky grievances, what hope does my relatively infantile couplet have?  And so, it becomes more and more difficult to issue the once trusty ‘get rid of him’ advice.

And yet there comes a time when enough is enough.  This may be for a variety of reasons.  I am lucky to say that none of the recipients of my textbook’s advice have had dire reasons for their break ups but that is another topic for another day.  Whilst our teenage years were prevalent with cheating scumbags who had just discovered the intended use of certain areas of anatomy and made it their mission to give demos to as many drunken disco attendees as possible, our post-uni days seem to be more concerned with that beloved American term which manages to imply a lot without actually saying anything: irreconcilable differences.

It is here that the textbook takes a decided swerve away from the direction of unbiased philosophy and considered wisdom as every best friend knows, there is only one side to take.  The cause becomes less important than the solution.  Once a healthy amount of crying and bitching has been expelled, then can come the fun part.  It is the best friend’s sworn duty to support all makeover ideas, no matter how conservative or drastic.  The newly single should be wrapped up in a warm whirlwind of girl chats, wine tasting, shopping and general merriment.  And if, in between manicures, there comes a time to dip a sentimental toe back into the pool of nostalgia, it should be with the intention of evoking a sense of time well spent with a person who, despite being benched in order to be replaced by an improved model in the future, nevertheless played an important role in the game thus far.

The textbook is clear in its footnote that recovery time will vary between friends as per their situations and susceptibility to optimism.  However, there is also a direct correlation between support given and bouncebackability (technical term.)  One more silver lining is that I know a few candidates who possess their own, individually edited copies of ‘The Friendship Textbook’ in their life libraries and so I can let my relationship run its course, niggles and all, knowing that there is a team of highly trained specialists waiting with tubs of Ben & Jerrys, a bottle of red and an action plan to relaunch this Relation Ship if it were ever to run aground.  

200 FOLLOWERS! THANK YOU

Dear Lovely People,

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to follow my blog.  Although I know quality is more important than quantity, I set myself a target of a hundred followers in the first month and to my epic shock I have somehow doubled that! 

Some of my friends have spent years telling me to start a blog but I was always under the impression that you had to lead a really exciting and action packed life to warrant one. However, if the last month has taught me anything it is that the process of blogging can actually make your life more interesting by forcing you to look at your world from different perspectives. 

So now I spend my time actively seeking intriguing photographs, articles, people, books... anything really, instead of just sitting back and letting them go by un-blogged.  As my best friend says, I've got the 'blug' and anticipate many happy years building my own little on-line world and getting to know more of you out there.

So thank you all once again,
Hannah.

Empty shelf?  Colourful Cacti!

MY NAILS: A BARRY M LOVE STORY

Why do I paint my nails?  No seriously.  It takes hours and is there anything more frustrating than taking that final swipe of the third coat on the tenth nail, only to look back at your right hand and see its patent perfection has become a big fat gloopy mess?  Oh, and you have ruined your favourite jeans in the process, because as far as I know, incongruous electric blue splodges on clothing have not yet hit the catwalk.

And yet, any given week my nails showcase a veritable rainbow of hues and textures, and I am certainly not alone in my obsession.  Historically, noblewomen in 17th century portraits can be seen exhibiting various nail adornments while the Chinese have been doing it for thousands of years!  So what makes nail painting worth the time and expense?

1)  Me time.  It might drive my boyfriend crazy when it comes to washing the dishes and I wiggle my fingers and say, “Sorry I can’t, wet nails,” but manicure time is also a great way of forcing yourself to be still.  In a world where we are forever rushing around, break out the Barry M and that is the next half an hour accounted for with nothing but sofa time.  As mentioned before, a nail smudge can evoke an illogically fierce dart of seething anger to course through the body and must be avoided at all costs, so I make sure I have no distractions during that all important drying window.

2)  Fashion.  The last few years have seen a resurgence in dedication to nail-upkeep and yet this trend seems to be with us for the long haul.  Some of my earliest memories are playing with my Grandma’s jewellery while she touched-up her nails with a Revlon pastel pink.  There is no doubt that the perfect shade can transform an outfit from dull to dazzling which means I can see my love affair with varnish lasting for many decades to come.

3)  Self-confidence.  Even when my skin is blemish free and my hair is behaving itself, I still enjoy my make-up and blow-drying rituals before a day’s work.  The same goes for nail varnish, which after all is just make-up for the hands.  An injection of glamour does wonders for my mood and the day seems that little bit brighter when my digits are appropriately groomed.  As I work in retail, it is also a huge ego boost when a customer or colleague asks who does my shellac for me and I say “Oh no, this was just £3.99 from Boots!”  Although I do enjoy an occasional French manicure from a pro, self-application allows for more variation day-to-day, depending on mood and/or occasion.   

As you may have gathered, Barry M is my go to supplier for all things nails.  The incredible colour range and quality give a professional finish (after enough layers) and I love my little family of gelly, matte and silk shades.  And so, without further ado, I introduce my adored Barry M collection...