This post is named Tequila Sunrise for no reason at all, other then me fancying one at the time of typing this up. With the photo above, I think I looked tired and confused, rather then cowgirl, western chic with my 'gun finger pose' (classic), so I decided to add in glittery squirts of... mmmmm...Tequila Sunrise, just to brighten things up a bit. And now I'm drunk. Not really! But I am tired, ohhhhh so tired.
Which brings me to the point at hand. I'm tired, but tired of what? I am tired of; not spending as near enough time as I should, being drunk with my friends and family - hugging them and loving them. I am tired of reading (skimming over) other boring blog posts by other (boring) people. I'm tired of the three cats I share my flat with - they make inconsiderate flat mates. But most importantly, I'm tired of SKINNY JEANS.
That's right, I said it. Since coming back from the last year's Los Angeles extravaganza, I went through a patch of time where I barely got dressed. I was heartbroken about coming back to England, and was feeling very sad and mopey. The very thought of a skinny jean, made my facial expression, not to mention my un-toned stomach, curl up like a sheepish party blower. When I finally tried to put my legs inside a pair, I was not ready for the repercussions. Tight fitting, controlling, possessive. A second skin that I just didn't fancy having. The Skinny Jean is the emotional blackmailing boyfriend I needed to chuck. So I did - I've not worn a pair for six months or so and I am totally OKAY with that. I look at this one pair that I have kept of black Levi's Mile Highs to remind me of my transition from unsure, to sure thang! (but mainly because they were £90 and I may get hired for some waitress work).
To be fair, walking away from The Skinny Jean was an easy breakup. I already had backup boyfriends, sorry I mean jeans, like all my fun loving flares and devoted yet hip, straight leg styles. So I completely reformed and jumped ship. Ironically, wearing looser styles, actually brought me back to my sexy self. And hey - being sexy is subjective and you'll all have different ideals on what sexy means to you but to me, it means confidence, happiness and being comfortable.
So there we have it, flares and boyfriend fits GIVE ME LIFE. Saying no the the skinny jean, liberated me. Now go on, go take a look through your wardrobe and have a little analyse of what's going on in there. Be honest. Are there items on your clothes rail, that society (or some boring fashion blogs) have conditioned you into thinking that you need? Items that you aren't that wildly keen on, but keep putting yourself through the paces of wearing?
You might not get an answer straight away or even at all, but at the very least, trying is important. You owe it to yourself to be sexy*
*happy, confident and comfortable.
