They say it's all in the details, and in this case they're not wrong. Allow me to introduce you to my latest obsession....hair clips. They might seem insignificant, maybe even just a touch twee, but I've fallen hard for them lately. (It's literally me and hair clips sitting in a tree RN). The doyenne of this particular accessory is the incredible French jewellery designer Charlotte Chesnais. Her beautiful egg-shaped slide is top of my wishlist ATM, but all her work is dreamy AF. Gucci have dropped their own cult crystal-embellished clip, but if your budget doesn't stretch then Mango have got some nice ones, as do Accessorize (they're the ones I'm wearing here). Are you sliding into this micro-trend? Let me know x
There's probably nothing quite as tempting as the prospect of reading someone else's diary is there? So in honour of nosey parkers everywhere (Confession: I'm very much one) here's a day in my life.
7am
The struggle is very very real for me to get up. I am most definitely not a morning person. My brain needs time to wake up, and so does my body. The very first thing I do is charge my phone, and my two (count 'em) iPads. I then dive straight into brekkie. I actually have the same thing everyday coz a) I'm dull like that, b) I'm obsessed with it and c) appaz everyone does it. So what is my breakfast of choice? A bowl of organic oats, some organic oat milk and a mug of organic decaf black tea. I like to read the T2 section of The Times while I'm eating, and not hurry. (I'm trying to make myself eat more slowly at the moment).
8am
I try and catch the news headlines on tv (generally the BBC for me), and have a glance at the Daily Mail's sidebar of shame. I'm totally addicted to the comments on there (anyone else?), and then I tackle Instagram. I go through the whole overnight feed and reply to any DMs. I also check emails (real life ones, not blogger ones) and then start to get ready.
9am
My outfit is the easiest part of getting ready for me, but my hair and make-up take foreverrrrr. Wash and go I am not (sadly). Having a combination of bad skin and crazy frizzy hair means that my work is cut out. I usually pop in a tooth whitening strip while I'm putting on my face, and also use the time to try and get my mind ready for the day ahead.
10am
I have a ritual of doing errands at around this time, and I combine it with walking as much as I can. Once I've done my post office/supermarket/smoothie stop-offs then I can settle down to work. I write all morning, (in my other guise as a journalist), so everything bloggerish has to wait until lunch.
SHOP THE LOOK
1pm
Then I start shooting pics through lunch. I always feel like the clock is against me, and I'm constantly frustrated by so many factors- that I have no-one to shoot my images for me, that I have a very basic camera, an old phone (that hits storage on the daily) and an even older face. But I just adore clothes, and I'm constantly excited by the thought of new outfits, new hauls and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to come up with a cool(ish) photo now and again. So I keep coming back for more. (This lack of logic puts me in mind me of the old joke- a woman goes to the doctor and says 'Help me, my husband thinks he's chicken!' and the doctor says 'Just tell him straight- he's not', and the woman replies 'I can't, we need the eggs').
3pm
I finally have lunch at 3, (sometimes it's even 3.30pm to be honest) and it usually comprises of a bowl of organic quinoa, and some organic greens- either broccoli or spinach. I then get as many mugs of organic decaf green down my neck as poss (I'm totally addicted to the stuff), whilst going through blogger emails. Sometimes I get a lot, sometimes I get hardly any, but I do try and reply to everyone. Then I start thinking about what I wanna put on InstaStories that day. I have totally mixed feelings about Storying- sometimes I feel like it's fun and more of an opportunity to have a laugh and some #bantz with everyone, but more often than not I just feel enormously pressurized to come up with something, anything. Because I don't live a particularly riveting life (no shit!) I feel like what I churn out is embarrassingly repetitive and limited, but the risk is that the algorithm will start hating on you if you don't play all the silly games that Zuck wants you to.
5.30pm
At this time I start to prep my main IG post of the day. I'll already have it filtered and saved and have gathered as many RewardStyle links as I can in order to share what I'm wearing in a shoppable way. (Hark at me, the little selling robot). I scroll through the whole feed before I post and I honestly get scared every time I put a new pic out there. Why? I dunno, it just gives me the fear. I'm rarely proud of any images I come up with, and if I do actually like summat I've done, chances are, everyone else won't. (I believe Alanis Morisette wrote a song about this once). At this point, I'm so done with IG (well, for a while). I need a break and I don't look at it again for a few hours. (That's my version of so done anyway).
6.30pm
I break for supper now (I never ever look at my phone when I'm eating), and I generally have avo on organic rye toast with a green salad. At about 8pm I come back to IG and look how my pic is doing, and then start planning out my picture for the next day and editing that. (And trust me when I say I need a lot of editing).
9.30pm
I'll run a bath while I'm still prepping snaps and then hop in at 10pm. I like to soak and relax and wind-down. Hell for me would be to get into bed covered in the day's dirt. I absolutely cannot contemplate going to sleep without a clean face, a clean bod and my hair up and out the way.
11.30pm
By this time I'm usually going through everyone else's InstaStories. I like to get the full sweep of someone's day- it usually makes more sense to me that way. (That's the other thing with my own Stories- I feel like I can barely post them without people jumping straight on them- and whilst it's lovely to know that everyone is interested- it's that pressurized feeling that freaks me out a bit). I then get into bed and read a few pages of Vogue or Elle. Finally, I play a very silly (and some would say greedy) little game. I compile a wish list of bags and shoes and anything I've seen in the mag I'm reading that I love and wish that it appears beautifully wrapped at the end of my bed by the morning. That normally helps me drift off and have very sweet dreams. (I'm still baffled though why nothing is actually there for me the next day).
