The view from here

I have particularly enjoyed a couple of musings in blog land this week. La Belette Rouge on wearing black was great (as are all her posts) As I said in the comment I left her, I have always wanted to be that cool stylish fashionista who favours cut and construction over colour and texture. Sadly this will never happen, Its like that involuntary twitch we get in our eye when we are tired, I just cannot help but go for colour. I did in homage where head to toe black yesterday with a splash of turquoise jewellery. But this is an expectation not the rule and today I am back in the arms of chocolate brown, soft faded biscuit and cool navy with a splash of burnt orange. You see even the names of colours are delicious, how am I not to be tempted? So I will occasionally dip my toe in monochrome black but it will only ever be part of the story.
Last week, as I was meandering down Bond Street I was as ever watchful of the clothes people were wearing. I spied someone in the most beautiful fitted linen cardie. Then I had an epiphany and realised that I had that same cardie. Where was it? I actually felt sick/stupid. Do I really have so many clothes that I can actually forget what I have? So that night I scoured the house and found a small case filled with an assortment of tops and bottoms. Most were for the scrap heap but there at the bottom was the wonderful cardie. Reunited yes, but as it is made of linen It is too creased to wear so it is hanging up in the vain hope the creases will drop. The best way I have found to eliminate creases is to wash in Woolite and dry on a mild breezy day. I recently did this with no less than 15! pairs of linen trousers. It worked they looked brilliant.
Finally a great post by Une Femme highlights the age old issue of the spreading waist line. I do not pick at my food, I do have a healthy appetite and I enjoy what I eat and try to off set the damage with exercise. I walk to and from school and go to the gym. Still like King Canute I am unable to push back the tide of fat that creeps almost imperceptibly onto my waist line. Luckily for me I live with a body obsessive who never fail to remind me that I am loosing this battle. Yet strangely I am not too upset. Its life, I am trying to reign it in a little, but why let it spoil the fun?