Friday, June 24, 2011

Going cold turkey

About a month ago, I figured out what everyone else already knew - that online shopping is the shizz!

I never really understood before why people liked shopped for clothes over the interwebs - isn't the actual act of shopping all part of the fun? You know, scanning the racks, trying on things that you don't really need and can't really afford, bathing in the insincere compliments of the shop assistants, purchasing the things that you don't need and really can't afford - it is the kind of thing that makes a girl glow all over (and then feel a little ill when she realises just how much she spent and the fact that she doesn't have anything to wear with her new dresses unless she also buys new shoes). But shoppers remorse aside, I would definitely rate shopping as one of my favourite things to do.

Which of course drives my husband crazy. If he wants to spend time with me on the weekend, he can be pretty sure that at least a few hours will be spent sitting in the "husband chair" in front of a change room and alternating between playing Angry Birds on his iPhone and saying nice things to me when I come out so that I don't cry or spend the rest of the day sulking. 

And he is a trouper - he really is - but the boy can only take so much. Apart from making regular cider stops between stores, these expeditions are really not that much fun for him at all. In fact, I think he would rate them as one of his least favourite things to do.

So I came up with a plan - I will start to buy clothes online! That way, he can watch sport or Battlestar Galactica or whatever while I shop and then we can spend our weekends together only doing things that we both like. Like watching horror movies, drinking coffee and talking about how much more awesome our lives would be if we lived in New York (for such a lovely, compatible couple, those are the only things that I can think of that we both like to do...). And with the Australian dollar being strong, and Australian prices being so high, I figured my plan made good fiscal sense too. I am soooooo smart!

So I logged onto (Free international shipping!!!! Alexander Wang!!!! Shoes!!!!), spent hours scanning through all the pretty things, picked a cute Rag & Bone sweater-dress and a couple of knitted jumpers and then - voila! Three days later I was the proud owner of new gear! 

Unfortunately though, while I was waiting for my purchases to arrive, I also became the proud owner of a few other assorted shirts, skirts, dresses and the like that I had bought the old-fashioned way. This was NOT part of the plan.

And since then, I have been on what could only be described as a shopping binge. I have bought things online. I have bought things in my lunch hour. And, worst of all, I have continued to drag my poor husband around from shop to shop on the weekends. All very bad. Of course, it doesn't help that there is a sale on at EVERY SINGLE SHOP in the city at the moment. Really, it isn't my fault when you think about it.

I mean, it isn't like I have been spending stupid amounts of money or anything (I never buy things on my credit card that I don't have the actual money to pay for) but I have got to the stage where I have bought things that I don't really need. I have even been forgetting that I have bought things until I come across them at the bottom of my wardrobe with the tags still on. 

See, the trouble with online shopping is that it denies you the instant gratification that you get from real-life shopping. A couple of clicks and you are done - but with nothing to show for it. Not straight away anyway. So even though it feels like Christmas every time a package arrives for me at work, it did nothing to quell the shopping-monster within me. In fact - it actually seemed to make it hungrier!

The way I see it, there is only one thing to do really - go cold turkey. No more shopping for the rest of this month at least. And after that, I will only buy things I need. Or things that are particularly pretty. Or that are on sale. Or if I am feeling sad. But otherwise - no deal!

I feel better already!


PS - This post looks a little dull with no pictures, doesn't it? Also, it occurs to me that I have really just banged on about my own problems for the whole thing. So, as a reward for those who have stayed reading to the end, here is a picture of Ryan Gosling wearing glasses. YOU'RE WELCOME! 

Monday, June 13, 2011

To freeze or not to freeze...

The fact that I am very, very conscious of looking old is not a secret. Maybe that isn't totally accurate - I am more than just conscious of it. I am actually scared of it. I wouldn't say I am obsessive about ageing but it is definitely something that weighs on my mind from time to time.

Up until now, I have sought to stop the ravages of time through a strict skin care regime, yoga and good diet. Which is all very lovely but now that I am 31 and in a rather stressful but well-paid job, I am starting to wonder if it isn't time to up the ante a little bit.

That is right - I am talking about botox people!

Friends of mine swear they will never get it done. Which is all very nice, but I can't help but think that their tune won't change as the wrinkles get deeper. I mean, as a teenager, I remember boasting that I would never exercise or diet. And yet as a sedentary job and wavering metabolism started to show their effects on my waistline, I was soon lining up for the treadmill and raving about how tasty asparagus and tofu really was. 

I have no problems admitting that I have no intention of ageing without some kind of intervention. Other people might be secure enough to let the years have their way with their faces but not me. Whatever help I can get, I am going to take it.

So I am not definitely going to say that I will never get botox. The real question is really - when should I get it? And how much and how often? 

Right now I look ok - thanks to years of shunning the sun, I am not showing any major signs of ageing. But part of me has started to think that I should be taking more serious measures now (maybe not botox but certainly peels and laser resurfacing) as a preventative measure so that I can basically keep looking the way I do now for ever and ever and ever.

Sounds nice, no? 

Well it may sound nice, but will it look nice? 

Because I am far more scared of looking like a freak than I am of looking old. I am not so deluded that I can't see that a woman who has aged gracefully, like Isabella Rosellini say, looks SO much better than a woman who has injected the living crap out of her face (like Our Nic for example):



I mean at one stage, Nic - who is supposedly a serious actress - managed to completely destroy the ability of her face to show any emotions at all. So much so that, in spite of my love of all things Baz Luhrmann, I refused to watch "Australia" for fear that seeing her being dragged around the outback by the delish (and seemingly botox-free) Hugh Jackman would be kind of like watching Andrew McCarthy trying to animate the deceased Bernie in "Weekend at Bernie's".

 See? Same.

But my fear of ending up looking like a bloated, dead fish subsides pretty quickly when I see a celebrity who has somehow managed to stop the ageing process entirely. Someone who should look at least a decade or two older than me but who actually looks younger and much, much better.

Demi Moore is a perfect example of this. Of course, she has repeatedly denied that she has ever had any work done (but freely admits to using leeches to rid her body of impurities or some such rubbish) so it is difficult to know what it is that she is doing that I could replicate in order to defy the passing years. All I know is, she looks better now, in her late 40s, than I did even in my teens. Hell - I have never looked this fresh, glowy and, well, slamming:
What a bitch. Seriously.

I imagine that she has the same access to cosmetic surgeons and dermatologists that all the other ageing celebrities have, but somehow she looks better and less "worked on" than all of them.

The only thing that could really explain her Dorian Gray-like refusal to age is that she has come to some sort of an arrangement with the devil. And, as far as I can tell, it was TOTALLY worth it.

Yet if I do dedicate myself to the botox-way, there seems to be a far greater chance of me looking like a puffer fish than looking anything like Demi when I am in my 40s. And that would not be worth it.

So before I start injecting stuff into my face, I am going to see if some of the other, less scary, treatments work. Maybe by the time I get to 40, there will be improvements in injectables and more guarantees of achieving a natural result.

Until then, it is just me, my moisturisers and a lot of praying that the years will be kind.