Honouring Myself

I've got to level with you: digging up all those old photos for my Memory Lane post got me feeling really nostalgic for my old style. Sure, there's some stuff I don't miss from that time in my life - underneath the veneer I really didn't like my natural face, I thought I was fat, I was the girl who wore full make-up to the gym. My eyebrows occasionally washed off in the rain, and simply put, I no longer want to dedicate hours each day to achieving any kind of 'look'. 

When I was a serious goth blogger, I was generally in part-time employment, and in hindsight I suspect fairly depressed - it wasn't uncommon, on my days off, for me to stay in bed until mid-afternoon, then get on the computer until 3am, then back to bed. I could commit hours to getting dressed if I wanted to, because I didn't have much else in my life. I also didn't have the financial commitments or responsibilities that I have now, so if I spent all my money on boots, eyeliner and absinthe, it didn't impact anyone but future me (thanks for not saving anything from ten years in employment, past self, that was so helpful). 

I also don't see myself as a super-gothy type person any more. I like my rainbow dungarees and harem pants. I love a bit of colour. But there were definitely elements of that past style that I'd like to take forward into my new look - I'd forgotten how much I used to enjoy layering (decorative belts, lace sleeves under t-shirts, skirts of different lengths), and a wider variety of accessories than the necklaces and earrings I tend to fall back on nowadays (gloves, wristbands, hair accessories, tights, stockings, hats and brooches). 

Again, I'd have to remember appropriate dress (tights and skirts not always useful on the nature reserve, but fine for going to a cafe; t-shirt and jeans great on the nature reserve but also you are allowed to make an effort when you want to), but at least when I visit Glastonbury and Brighton later on this year I now have more of an idea of what sort of things to look out for (past me is kind of astonished that I now only have one small box of jewellery and one decidedly non-decorative belt). Having a greater range of accessories, and items like vest tops, scarves and shrugs bought with layering in mind, also meant that I could be more versatile, and make a wider range of outfits from a selection of favourite items. I spent the last couple of years trying to shed items that I deemed 'purely decorative' or 'unnecessary', which I think went hand-in-hand with my crisis of confidence, when I just wanted to be a little bit invisible. I feel like I'm going to spend a chunk of my early thirties trying to undo some of the decisions I made in my twenties. 

At the risk of sounding a bit dippy and New Agey (who, me?), the way I've been thinking about this is that I want to honour myself. Not subscribe to a label or someone else's dictates of how I should dress, not get carried away and obsess over my clothes above all else, but be true to myself, have fun, dress in a way that I find beautiful.

It has to be said that one thing I miss about dressing in a way that is markedly different, is people's reactions. Okay, not all of them (having beer cans thrown at my head can go), but there's this little vain part of me that loves a compliment. After I posted some of those old pics on the Book of the Face, I got a flurry of messages along the lines of: "you used to look really cool!" Thanks 😂 Whilst I don't want to go courting acclaim for its own sake, it's notable that I seemed to have decided that being older, and a parent, meant that I was no longer 'allowed' to feel a bit special or want beautiful things. Instead I should be happy with an anorak and jeans. Nothing wrong with my anorak and jeans by the way - but it's not like there's actually an age limit on "looking really cool", after which the fashion police will come and take me away if I look to be getting too interested in pretty things.

This reminds me again of that remark my friend Alice made about, "this isn't really you, it's just how you got used to dressing when you were pregnant." I was so angry at the time, but just as Dai occasionally contributes a pearl of wisdom, sometimes people who aren't me seem to have a better idea of what's going on with me than I do.

I'm weirdly nervous about re-learning how to accessorise. I've been trawling the charity shops looking for items to suit my current style and the direction I'm going in - so far, without much luck. This time, though, I'm determined to go slowly and be patient, instead of flinging my money at fast fashion 'alternative' brands, or things that are 'nearly right'. Honouring myself means not compromising on my ethics, too.

Beauty Care for Wild Women

A change I made around the beginning of this year was that I started carving out a little more time to take care of myself. Beauty and I have had a fairly chequered history - I've swung from surface glamour - elaborate hair and make-up routines, but at bedtime taking a halfhearted swipe at my eyeliner with a bit of damp loo roll and sleeping with my foundation on - to letting nature take its course in the - apparently mistaken - belief that if I followed the same skincare routine as my other half, my skin might end up as clear as his.

Paradoxically, I am quite self-absorbed yet pretty bad at the basics of looking after myself, which is why I have plantar fasciitis (bad shoes) and sensitive teeth (turns out you shouldn't drink multiple cartons of juice a day for several years if you don't want to tear up every time you eat something with sugar in it). I have been a person who buys new outfits on a daily basis, but once left a bout of tonsilitis untreated for so long that it spread to my stomach glands. I was basically unable to eat from the pain and felt so run down and ill that I fell asleep in public places on my lunch break, but I assumed it was some weird new psychosomatic manifestation of my eating disorder and didn't bother to see a doctor for a rather long time. I honestly didn't know that tonsilitis of the stomach was a thing that could happen.

I was surprised to find that I had a bit of resistance to reinstating any kind of grooming routine beyond soap, water, lip balm and a dab of botanical perfume. I felt as if I were, in some way, betraying my 'natural self'. Is my muslin face cloth a tool of the patriarchy? I still don't really have a clear answer on that one. I suspect it's somewhat akin to 'shopping ethically' under capitalism, and we can all only do our best.

Anyway, much like rebuilding my wardrobe after giving birth, I decided I wanted to feel good in my body again, and as well as doing my yoga and going for walks, for me this meant I had to give it a little TLC. I kind of feel like I shouldn't have to - surely my body will look after itself best if I just leave it alone? - but after a week of dry body brushing in the morning and applying lotion in the evening, my skin was so improbably soft that I had to concede that perhaps I could do with a little bit of looking after, after all.

I remind myself that women throughout history have cared for their skin and hair using nature's bounty - which, yes, has included lead and nightingale poo at various times, but given that many beauty products currently contain the likes of petrol, carcinogens and formaldehyde, perhaps we shouldn't be too quick to judge - and what I am doing is therefore no different. I make my own products where I can, but when the ingredients cost as much as ready-made products, I buy carefully chosen natural products from a small handful of retailers. 

Recently, I had a fitting for my wedding dress, and under the bright lighting I winced to see how unkempt I was next to my (admittedly exceptionally beautiful) bridesmaid, who is always very well-groomed. We got to talking about wedding make-up - when we first planned the wedding, a make-up artist and professional photographer were booked, but having rearranged four times due to COVID, they were no longer available (or affordable). I didn't mind doing my own make-up, but in that moment it dawned on me that my two-years-out-of-date Lush slapstick probably wasn't going to cut it. 

When I started looking into what was available, I learned that since I started my shopping ban, the world of beauty had kind of moved on without me. I didn't actually know that primer was a thing. At first I panicked, and begged my gorgeous bridesmaid Bel to take me make-up shopping, envisaging a sprawling department store where some glossy professional could teach me how the hell one fills in their brows without looking as though they have a couple of weevils crawling across their forehead. (That said, the last department store makeover I had, circa 2016, was appalling - I had to sneak into work to wash off the Batman-villain eyebrows whilst my glamorous co-worker laughed herself hoarse.)

The night after the fitting, I decided I wasn't ready to compromise my 'crunchy' standards (side note: I recently learned the term 'granola girl', and although I'm not really the right age group for TikTok trends, please know that this is me. Granola mumma?). I went online and ordered some samples from zero waste, organic, natural and vegan make-up brands - all through Peace with the Wild, link below - and yes, I found a primer. The foundation, concealer and powder all had four ingredients - all of which I could recognise and pronounce. I felt better knowing I could look my best for my handfasting without compromising on ethics, or putting toxic goop on my face.

I do love to try new products, but I'm extremely cautious and generally don't put anything on my body that I wouldn't eat (the exception is nail varnish - I haven't bought any new since the end of 2020, but I have a few bottles that I have been given by friends). I also don't hoard products and only buy new to replace what has been used up. Dai has more bathroom products than I do.

What I am trying not to do is focus on concealment, improvement or perfection, but instead think about nourishment and care. 

For the curious, I shop from:

Peace With The Wild

Lush (although I'm choosy about which products; some contain talc or parabens which I prefer not to use)

The Really Wild Soap Company

Bain + Savon

I also use flower essences to gently help me stay in balance, my essentials are both from Saskia's Flower Essences - I use Breathe Deep, Seek Peace and My Personal Space.

For further reading, I highly recommend:

Wild Beauty by Jana Blankenship

No More Dirty Looks by Siobhan O'Connor and Alexandra Spunt

Freedom Face: A Beauty Guide Free From Toxic Ingredients, Expensive Gloop and Self-Hating Bullshit by Lucy AitkenRead

(I did not realise until typing this list how many of these names and titles contain the word 'wild'!)

We Did It!

 

Earth-Based

Recently I got called out by an oracle card deck that I got for Christmas. The deck in question is a pocket-sized set of 40 cards by Nadia Turner, called Forest Fae. First of all let me mention how exquisite these cards are - enchanting and not a little strange. Unlike the other decks I use, they are also pretty straight-talking, as they each contain a short phrase or message. I appreciate this a lot on days when I'm not in the mood for decoding symbolism or intuitively analysing imagery. In fact, for a fae-based deck, I was a little startled by how forthright these cards can be.

As I shuffled, my mind was wandering. I was thinking about my upcoming visit to a medieval fayre, wondering what I might buy. What sort of clothes was I looking for nowadays? Did I want to lean into my more practical, natural side, my inner barefoot hippie, or did I want to go more Glastonbury glamour, with glitter and flower crowns? I have no idea what question I originally intended to ask when I picked up the cards, but it wasn't one of my interminable, imaginary wardrobe dilemmas.

The first card I turned said, "Take the cloud roads; delight in your imagination."

As someone who has bemoaned, at length, my inability to daydream and visualise, which has happened over the last decade or so and which I blame pretty much entirely on my total absorption with shopping, fashion and social media (and which has made it rather difficult to write any fiction in recent years), I felt like this was a strong nudge. Stop asking stupid questions; go and remember how to daydream.

But it wasn't really the answer I wanted. Shopping Brain wanted to be told to go buy stuff. So I asked for clarification and drew another card.

 "Seek inspiration in twilight wanderings."

I translated this as: remember that new novel you keep saying you want to write but can't get any ideas for? Perhaps you should stop worrying about clothes and pull your head out of Instagram. (And I've always loved walking in the evening, or at night, when things are quiet.)

Mainly out of curiosity, I pulled another card.

 "Go to the woods. Seek moss, mud, and magic."

Well, now my disappointment was forgotten and I was becoming elated. I couldn't have asked for more apropos advice. I couldn't actually go to the woods right that minute as I had someone coming to fit my smart meters, but I determined to go just as soon as I could. And not just to take pictures for Instagram, either. As my fourth and final card advised: "Be a caretaker of silence."

Coincidentally (or not), I had just downloaded a sample for Starhawk's book The Earth Path, in which she says: "To be a Witch (a practitioner of the Old Religion of the Goddess) or a Pagan (someone who practices an earth-based spiritual tradition) is more than adopting a new set of terms and customs and a wardrobe of flowing gowns. It is to enter a different universe, a world that is alive and dynamic, where everything is part of an interconnected whole, where everything is always speaking to us, if only we have ears to listen. A Witch must not only be familiar with the mystic planes of existence beyond the physical realm; she should also be familiar with the trees and plants and birds and animals of her own backyard, be able to name them, know their uses and habits and what part each plays in the whole." 

Like Starhawk, my initial interest in Paganism was sparked by a desire for a spiritual path that embraced and honoured the feminine, but I have returned to it lately due to my love for and connection with the land. Yet this is a connection I find hard to maintain; there's no denying that the jolt, the buzz, the shopping high (or the weirdly addictive mix of anticipation and unease that is my social media experience) can exert a greater pull in the moment than meditation, birdwatching in my sit spot, or walking in nature.

I'm engaged so much with my gadgets lately that walking in a green space does strange things to my eyes, as they readjust to different shapes, spaces, patterns of sensory input. It's refreshing, like a bath and a nap just for my eyes and brain. 

I'm not sure how many times I'll need to learn the same lesson before it sticks. But at least I'll have my cards to keep me on track when I need it. And in the meantime? I guess I'll be in the woods.

I'll be away next week celebrating my handfasting - which, all being well, will be this weekend. After three postponements and a brief and casual (but admittedly lovely) legal ceremony, I'm deeply looking forward to finally being able to have our wedding!