BURNOUT

I posted this on my other blog The Happy Baby Project but am re-posting it here as it gives a useful update on me and link to what I’m doing next!

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So this morning, I’m in bed. reading Country Life, with the cat. Because we have moved to the country. But more on that later.

But this isn’t a smug post, it’s an honest one. I’m in bed, because I hit a wall in a massive way recently. Burn out. It wasn’t nice. But more on that later too.

For now, let me catch you up with where I am as it’s been a while. My last post was in 2017 and in November 2018, after 2 more miscarriages, I had my third child, who we’ll call The Baby. It was another dreadful birth. You may remember my first child got stuck (shoulder dystocia), my second child arrived prematurely after a massive haemorrage and after 4 painful miscarriages, but my third child was a planned c-section. Oh this will be so much more relaxed! We laughed.

On 13 November 2018, after The Baby was lifted out of my tummy, I lost 4 litres of blood in a massive obstetric haemorrage. Given you only have 5-6 litres of blood in your body, it was pretty terrifying and I thought that I would die. Of course I didn’t die, and there were amazing doctors there to pump 4 units of blood straight back into me, but at one point both me and my poor husband who had been dragged with The Baby to another room as I screamed I couldn’t breathe, thought I was going to die. I make this point because it’s important to remember that this is trauma, for your body and your brain. We were told shortly after this (when I’d been handed a premature baby to hold and to feed, as I tried to piece my broken body back into life again) that we should never have children again. No chance, we thought. So the trauma – all those losses, all that pain, all those awful births – is over.

The Baby is almost 1 and life is pretty great. We left London to buy a large house in East Devon near the beach, and we plan to build a cookery school and glamping centre here. We have three healthy children, a cat, and we just bought a puppy. As we walk along the beach, looking at the kids running in the waves it all feels great.

But then there’s this thing. It’s inside me and it feels heavy. When I’m alone or when I’m exhausted, I think about what happened to me and my body, and a feeling rises up in my chest and its so heavy and overwhelming, and it makes me cry until I push it back down again. I push it down again because I have to get on with life and life is busy and I have three kids. But it’s there and it feels like I’m holding back a dam sometimes and if I let it go it would burst with such force it would wash us all away.

And recently with the stress of looking after the kids and the puppy and moving to a new house and doing up the house and starting work again after maternity leave and trying to lose a bit of weight, I hit burn out. So how does that feel? A body completely devoid of energy and a mind empty of motivation. An inability to do anything – I mean literally unable to stack a dishwashwer or get up off the sofa. A desire just to curl up and sleep, all day long. A feeling of being empty, of crying with helplessness and exhaustion. A feeling of hitting rock bottom.

Trauma 

It is, I now believe, partly down to this unresolved trauma. I  believe most of us carry some form of trauma and most of our parents carry it too – trauma from childhood, trauma from infertility or terrible births or miscarriages, trauma from health problems or parental loss.

It is possible to carry this trauma around – I have. And you can cover it for a while – denial, getting on with things, or in other less healthy ways – alcohol or striving for validation through over-achieving, over-work and people pleasing. But it has to come out at some point or it will eat you alive. Literally – insomnia and auto-immune conditions and stress-related disease.

So how do you resolve this trauma? Well, there is CBT counselling, where you re-live the experience in the present tense (I’m lying on the bed and I can’t breathe and I think I’m going to die) but you add in the things you know now – that you didn’t die, that you were safe. And I can definitely see the benefits in that, but it involves time and investment and you would have to go to a very vulnerable place for a while.

So I guess the other way you resolve it is through talking about it, writing about it, releasing that dam little by little so it doesn’t feel so heavy. Realising what your triggers are and being conscious of when you feel waves of emotion that you didn’t really understand before. And that’s what I’m trying to do.

A stressful life 

Which leads me to other stress factors as a parent generally. I seem to be having more conversations, almost daily, with mums who are at their peak stress levels and wondering why its so hard and feeling like they are failing. And sometimes we question why it’s so hard for us because didn’t our parents do all this and not complain? But I think it IS harder for us, and here’s why.

First, we put massive pressure on ourselves as parents. I’m pretty sure my folks never read a single parenting book, but that’s probably because the parenting style at the time was a lot easier – to parent based on a certain level of detachment, fear and control. Children should be seen and not heard. Eat properly at the table. Kids should entertain themselves and be bored (ever spend days on end throwing a tennis ball up and down for entertainment?). We could run fairly wild then – I remember spending hours running round parks and back gardens with my neighbours’ kids from a fairly young age. Smack them if they are naughty (I wasn’t actually ever smacked. Well, once, for drawing on a newly-decorated nursery wall).

But now we’re all about perfect parenting. We have to cook healthy organic food, read about conscious parenting styles, be constantly empathetic and patient, spend time doing educational but fun games, and make sure they are doing extra curricular activities like swimming and scuba diving and frickin nuclear fusion club, and that’s after you’ve spent time reading every night and doing extensive homework. Sometimes it’s just too much pressure.

Secondly, we’ve lost our communities. If it once took a village to raise a child, it is now us, alone, in a crappy soft play centre in Brentford wondering what went wrong. We live far from our families, and our sisters, neighbours and friends don’t involve themselves with raising our kids anymore. It’s not their fault, we’re all just too busy. But we weren’t meant to do this alone.

Next, society adds others pressures on ourselves that we never used to, partly driven by social media. The pressure to be professionally successful and earn well, to “have it all” (ask me who the most stressed in our society is, and I will show you the part-time working mother). To entertain and have a full social life and great holidays. To have beautifully styled houses and gorgeous interiors. To look hot and slim and wrinkle-free with fabulous clothes and hair. If you are a perfectionist like me, it is impossible to keep up with it all and something has to give.

So what can you do about this? Well, this is what I’m working on and this is why I’ve written this starting blog post (which I’m writing in bed).

Ultimately, I need to lower my standards and work out what is actually important to me – so for example, I don’t need to look hot but I would like to be healthy and strong and fit for my kids. I don’t need to entertain my kids all the time, but I’d like to have special 1 on 1 time for at least 5 minutes with each of them every day.

I need to have more me-time and reconnect to who I was before I had kids – so I’m adding time each day for doing something just for me. Listening to a podcast with headphones on while the kids play or buying something frivolous and just for me like a wet suit. I’m planning days out with close girlfriends. And finding time in each month to pursue a hobby I already love – like yoga – and starting hobbies I’ve always wanted to do but never found the time – like painting and (don’t laugh) wild swimming.

Most of all, I’m realising sometimes I can’t keep face and say I can do things when I know it would lead to burn out if I pushed myself too far. And the most important thing is allowing myself to be vulnerable without being ashamed, and saying I can’t do it, and I need help.

Today is Day 1. 

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As I said earlier, we have moved to East Devon and are planning to set up a cookery school/feast venue, but also one with a wellness side, hosting wellbeing events, talks and yoga. I will post details of this soon. I’m also planning (once I get my head above water!) to re-train in psychotherapy or life coaching. I’ll be documenting my journey in a separate blog and instagram page, which I will set up and also send details soon. Watch this space! 

A post for mental health awareness week

There’s a wonderful spotlight being shone on mental health right now thanks to Bryony Gordon and the royals’ Heads Together charity. Having lived through the grief of losing a parent and multiple miscarriages, as well as having suffered with rampant insecurities and anxieties since I was little, here are some things I’ve learned about mental health.

Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, if not more so. If left untreated, it can lead to stress, anxiety, depression and anger; and physical ramifications like headaches and heart attacks, back problems and thyroid issues. You pay monthly to go to the gym so why don’t you also pay to talk to someone?

It is not weak to be vulnerable. It is not pathetic to say you’re struggling or anxious or insecure.  You don’t have to express your mental health issues in a way that makes you feel like a failure – in fact, humour and cynicism and swearing like a sailor are fantastic tools for expressing the fact that you’re having a shit time. If you think about it, the people that open up enough to admit their vulnerabilities are often the most courageous.

You are not lessened by having mental health issues. It is easy to think the confident person next door is simply better than you, because that’s just how you’re wired to think. But being old enough to have accepted myself now, I realise that being insecure or a bit angry or unable to shake off that feeling that you’re not quite good enough, does not make you worse than other people. My friends are made up of these people, most historical heroes too. Show me someone with vices like this, I’ll show you someone fascinating, who is built up of layers of intricately woven issues and ideas, who can surprise and entertain and amaze you. To love someone like this can be frustrating at times, but it can also be unbelievably rewarding, deeply passionate and interesting.

Allowing yourself to ask for help and to show your vulnerabilities is the key to being able to cope. Allow yourself to be loved.

Going through any sort of trauma allows you to empathise with others going through heartache. Your friend who went through that divorce or that cancer scare or that miscarriage will, in time, be the best most understanding listener there is. Damaged people often make the best friends.

Motherhood is not the #blessed picture many make it out to be on social media. Much of the time it’s anxiety-inducing, insecurity-building, lonely and depressing, as well as being fucking boring. It’s easy to find an Instagram-friendly photo of family life to show the world, but wouldn’t it be more interesting if we could be honest about it?

In 2013, the leading cause of death for both men and women in ages 20-34 was suicide. For men, that’s the leading cause of death in 35-49 year olds too. Doesn’t this show the importance of dealing with the disappointments and anxieties that life throws at us. If this means meeting up with someone once a month to drink a bottle of wine and talk about feelings, if only for a little bit, then it’s worth it. Crying is good. Being vulnerable is good. We are only human after all.

 

On happiness & motherhood

And then there were three….

You will have to excuse my lack of blogging of late. But on 27 March 2013, I gave birth to my son and my life changed out of all recognition. And recently, 7 weeks on, I’ve realised some things about happiness that make the HPL rules more important than ever to stick to and I wanted to share them here.

It is only now, as my body releases the hormones I’ve had circulating in my system over the last 10 or so months, which kept my baby inside me and allowed him to grow, that I am able to reflect on how I’ve changed.

Firstly, I realise I had a tough pregnancy. I have a new-found affinity for Kim Kardashian in that I too grew to the size of a small bus while carrying my baby boy, to the extent that many people (including medical practitioners) told me I must be having a huge baby. I feel for her because while you can put vanity on the back burner as much as you can, hating photos of yourself, catching yourself sideways in a mirror and gasping at your sheer bulk, isn’t the best thing for your self-confidence or esteem.

And then there’s how the hormones affect you. For me, my body was allergic to the hormones, and while my body gave everything it could to make my son the beautiful and chilled out boy he is, it took something from me – my skin became red and sore and swollen and itchy, I didn’t look like me, I would look in the mirror and cry in pain and in sadness at the loss of something. Only now, when he is 7 weeks, and my skin has begun to look normal again (thanks, in part, to Waitrose Baby Bottom Cream, who knew?), I feel that I have regained “me” again, only a fatter me with droopier boobs.

Then there’s the moods, the loss of confidence at work because of baby brain and guilt about maternity leave and your career path, the overwhelming love and fear for your baby and your family, and the separation from old friends whose lives are now on a different track.

Then there’s the birth. Well mine was pretty bloody awful. It was brutal and traumatic and you can read about it on my baby blog here if you want to. It gave something to me, of course – it gave me a power and a confidence, especially as I did it without an epidural and mostly on gallons of gas and air, but it also made me cynical and angry at mother nature and at life, and its something I realise I need to recover from mentally and emotionally, as does The Chef who saw things I can’t even imagine.

And finally motherhood. The highs, those incredible highs – of picking up a sleepy warm baby in the morning, of the first smile, the picking his clothes and laughing when he does something funny, the watching him asleep, the cuddles and the love – that overwhelming love again – and the worry about anything that might happen to him. I feel such pride in my family, in him, this chilled out wee fella that The Chef and I made, who seems better than us, who seems so perfect, who I can’t wait to watch grow, who develops every single day.

But, at 7 weeks, as the hormones that made him slip away, I feel something new. A sense of change, of wondering who I am now, what I do from here.

I’m not working, my life is my baby and cups of coffee, endless coffees, with other mums. We talk about our babies and about our boobs and our stitches. I am fascinated with recording every feed, every poo, every minute of sleep.

I found myself telling a (male) friend of mine, in great detail, about how my son hadn’t pooed for 2 days and how it was great that he had finally done a poo that morning, explaining in detail how he went red and I felt bad for him but was also happy as he’d been constipated… and halfway through I thought – what on EARTH am I doing! I’m talking about my son’s shits in great detail! To a bloke! I’ve become one of those mothers….And I post photos of him on Facebook all the time. And when The Chef brings up something in the news I feel ashamed – I didn’t watch the news today, in fact my world is here, so small now, between the bedroom and the nursery and the kitchen. And between the coffees, I am here – in the nursery mostly – with him, loving him and cuddling him, but alone, lonely at times. Working us both up to the next coffee, the next GP visit, the walk to the park, that is the day’s activity.

My god I’m not complaining. I love being a mum – I’m good at it I think. I love him and I love our life together and I love my family. But I realise my identity, my happiness, my confidence, has taken a knock with all this, left me moody and on the verge of rage or tears fairly easily, left me not quite knowing who I am now, how I’ve changed, whether I will ever be the old “me” again. And so now, I realise how important it is that I work on my happiness, and in doing so, work out where I go from here.

And so to the rules again:

1. Be Active – important given I can only live in elasticated waistbands for so long. I’m doing a mother & baby yoga class to ease my creaky bones, and I’ve dug out my gym kit with thoughts of swimming and running.

2. Connect – vitally important for me right now. I miss my friends after 7 weeks of wanting to be holed up with my baby boy. I want to organise a girls’ night out and drink wine – wine! – and a night eating good food with The Chef. I want to drink a martini. I want to go to the cinema. I want to see old friends, and friends without kids, and phone people when I feel isolated with a baby stuck to my breast.

3. Give – my current bugbear, after awe-inspiring treatment by NHS midwives at Kingston hospital, is the proposed plans for the NHS – the fact that it is effectively being privatised from under our noses to an American-style insurance-based system with healthcare for the richest, from private companies, while the poorest will suffer. I need to see what I can do to get involved. As a mum I’m also filled with an empathy I don’t think I had before – so I want to make sure I give clothes and toiletries to charities that help women and children.

4. Nurture – easy. I do it every day until around 7pm when I put him down to sleep. But there are other projects too to get excited about – transforming my garden, planting new colourful flowers, transforming the house in which I spend so much time in nowadays. Projects, and economical maternity-leave budgeting ones at that, will keep me busy over the next few months.

5. Learn – I’m going to learn to cook. As The Chef knows, I can barely boil an egg, but I’d love to get better of it, to become a bit more domesticated, to feed my lovely family. I’m starting this week with doing a few simple meals. God help us all.

6. Be Curious – Since the hormonal fug of pregnancy has started to lift, the baby is able to sleep in his pram, and I’m mastering public transport, I want to go exploring London again. So many places I want to go – Eel Pie island (open house 22/23 June), the Polka Theatre, the Electric Cinema, some of the new restaurants whose openings I’ve totally missed.

Happiness, like confidence, is a transient thing, and one you need to keep working at. Getting married, having a baby, can be the happiest time of your life, but the changes they bring and emotions they evoke can be overwhelming at times. I’m glad I have the HPL rules to ground me, and I love a project to work on. I’ll let you know how I get on.

A weekend in Berlin

Berlin is one of those places that everyone said was amazing, and I always wanted to go, but never got round to it. So back in summer, we hatched a plan for a girls’ party weekend and booked for November. Turns out that unbeknownst to me at the time, I was actually pregnant, so I was five months gone by the time we got there. So it was less “oonst oonst”, more “oooof can I have a waffle”, but still a fantastic place to visit.

There are lots of reasons to go – incredible art galleries and museums, amazing nightlife, great shopping and restaurants, and a truckload of history. Imagine a capital city without a finance district, not brimming with lawyers and bankers, but artists and musicians, and you get a very cool city like Berlin. Add to that people are friendly, everything is great value, and you can still smoke in bars (not so great for those who are 5 months pregnant) and you have the perfect long weekend.

We can’t claim to have even scratched the surface of what’s on offer, but here’s some tips on places to visit:

1. The Holocaust Memorial

I can’t put my finger on why this is so perfect, in fact no-one I’ve spoken to can, but it just is. It’s somehow magnificent and powerful and subtle and moving and I have no idea why. Round the corner from the Brandenburg Gate, I could spend a long time wandering amongst it all.

2. Views from the Reichstag

You can get a lift up to the roof and look from the top of its glass dome for an amazing view over Berlin (it’s free), but it’s also a beautiful building. You should also have a look at the Roma gypsy memorial in the Tiergarden nearby.

3. Wander round the Scheunenviertel (Barn Quarter)

This is one of Berlin’s oldest and most quirky areas and if you wander around slowly, you can find gorgeous courtyards, rambling alleyways, painted houses, shops, cafes and galleries. It reminded me of the roads between Spitalfields and Brick Lane – once a run down area, now filled with art, shops and cafes. We also saw an unbelievable number of cool-looking galleries all along the nearby Auguststraße.

4. Eat curry wurst, have a German meat and cheese fest, and try Berlin’s restaurant scene in Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg

Anyone who eats meat and cheese in such great quantities, including first thing in the morning, has my vote.  We ate fantastic German food in Oderquelle on Oderberger Street and loved the cheap buffet breakfasts in the nearby cafes on Sundays.  I also loved the relaxed vibe and lovely pan-Asian food at Toca Rouge  on Tör strasse in Mitte.

5. Visit the retro vintage clothes shops and record shops in Prenzlauer Berg

I was delighted to find the original vinyl of “Ferry Cross the Mersey” as well as vintage shops selling amazing clothes, shoes and bags – shops that were museums in themselves.

6. Check out the flea market on Sundays in the Mauerpark

Apparently the king of Berlin fleamarkets, it was sadly closed when we were there but still served a mean currywurst.

7. People-watching and whisky drinking in Berlin’s bars

We liked Café Schwarzsauer in Prenzlauer and Melody Nelson cocktail bar on Novalisstrasse in Mitte. Great music, cool people, smoky as hell. Made me wish I’d gone a decade ago…

8. Visit the Jewish Museum and Museum Island

The Jewish museum is housed in an amazing building and is huge, charting German Jewish history from the beginning and focusing on the Third Reich, with sculptures and a lovely café. You should also see the Berlin wall museum at the Potsdamer Platz, and Checkpoint Charlie, but sadly we didn’t have time.

You could also spend a day, if you weren’t distracted by waffles and gluhwein and winter markets, visiting Berlin’s Museumsinsel (Museum Island). It’s a small island in the Spree river which is a UNESCO site in itself as well as the venue for 5 museums , the most famous being the Pergamon museum, but also the Neues Museum, Altes Museum, National Gallery and Bodemuseum.

9. Head to Berlin’s clubs

Sadly I missed out on this being the size of a baby elephant, but I would definitely want to go back and try one of Berlin’s great clubs. The most famous is Berghain, and there’s also Kater Holzig, Wilde Renate, and Chalet.

We flew Easyjet from around £60 each way.

The Happy Baby Project

I’ve been quiet over the last few weeks because life has changed somewhat, and it has something to do with the little wriggly person that’s been growing inside me. Yes, the HPL is having a baby!

And while I’m wildly happy about it now, there were times in first 12 weeks when I really struggled to remind myself of all I’ve learnt about being positive. Of course I appreciate how lucky I am, and what an exciting thing is about to happen to us, but my body’s reaction to the news wasn’t exactly pleasant. And it took this wonderful blog post by Caroline No to give me the strength to say IT’S BEEN BLOODY SHIT! I’ve been a bit rubbish at this pregnancy stuff! And finally – who cares!

My skin decided it didn’t like the preggie hormone or the preggie hormone didn’t like certain foods anymore and broke out in giant red itchy spots all over my chest, neck and face, which might or might not have been hives. I got teenage acne. I developed an agonising pain in my right buttock which turned out to be my pelvic girdle pinging out of place, making walking nigh on impossible. I found myself sobbing like a heartbroken teenager for hours on end, once hysterically laughing and sobbing at once, not knowing why. I felt nauseous and fat and bloated and frumpy, unable to squeeze into my old clothes but not big enough for maternity gear. I ate three burgers in a week. I missed wine and hangovers, still do. And don’t get me started on itchy boobs and cracked nipples and giant wire-less maternity bras which make cycling to work an interesting exercise in pot-hole avoidance and agonising bouncing droopy pendulous bosoms….

A cumulative force of utter exhaustion, the need to cry repeatedly and teenage acne-like skin meant I lived as a hermit for weeks – not even wanting to go for a walk and covering my face when I saw anyone including a man reading our meter: “Don’t Look at Meeeee!”.

There were sudden periods of anger, an unbearable urge to snap. The Poor Chef got the brunt of it, being the only person in my vicinity for much of the time. You put a wine glass in the dishwasher the wrong way – YOU IDIOT!!! You didn’t put the plant pot in the right place – YOU RUINED MY BIRTHDAY!!! And how could he understand the raging hormones that were filling my body with negativity and fury and sadness, when he was just really really happy?

But on the cusp of 12 weeks things got better. I got my energy back, which built up to something like hysteria when I realised I could finally socialise and actually see my friends again (lunches and walks along the Thames best – drunken dinners not to the most fun when you’re sipping on Schloer all night and wondering why everyone’s laughing at an unfunny joke). My skin cleared up and my hair went from greasy to full. I contacted friends, I felt positive, I started thinking about the future. And The Poor Chef came out of hiding.

And then this week we had the scan. I was a bag of nerves, wondering if it was there at all, or alive or deformed, or multiple. But then we saw him (for we call him “he” after the scan but we don’t know if he is a she yet of course). What a gorgeous wee wriggler. He was tiny, of course. But with a round little belly and a lovely face with big lips. And beautiful frogs legs and two feet, which he kicked in the air before turning his little bottom towards us. I can’t feel him yet but my tummy is getting more solid and I love the little reminder that he’s there, wriggling and waiting.

So now it’s different. I’ve told people which really helps. I’ve bought a few bigger clothes and am enjoying better skin and shaking off the indignity of the last few weeks. I’m loving my new body – the round curves, the bigger breasts, the hardening belly. I’m so proud of my body, so impressed at its strength and the way it seems to know exactly what to do. I can see why women who’ve given birth often want to do marathons  afterwards – and I feel the same – because I love my body in a way I never have before and I’m amazed at what it is capable of and I want to get fit, not just work out at the gym to lose weight, but get stronger and faster and show myself what my body can actually do. I feel womanly and dare I say a bit beautiful.

I am already aware of competitive mum syndrome and what lies ahead. There are the I’m-still-a-party-girl mums (I stayed up til 2am and wasn’t tired at all! Yes the baby is two weeks old lets book that girls’ holiday to Ibiza!). There are the body-beautiful mums (I’ve not put on ANY weight! In fact I’ve LOST weight! Who’s the first for botox?!). There are the capitalist mums (I’ve just bought the most fabulous baby papoose to match my bugaboo pram travel system in a neutral colour to match my tastefully decorated nursery!). And there are the this-is-totally-natural-to-me mums (vitamins? I didn’t bother with those. Epidurals? I’m just going to power breathe with my doula).

So what sort of mum will I be? Well who knows. But I’m not pining my party days any more. In fact I’m loving getting to bed at 10pm and being cosy under a woollen blanket on the sofa. My favourite recent purchase is a great pair of sheepskin slippers.  I’m looking forward to my body getting big and round because I have a feeling it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be doing and I really want to take care of it from now on. And I believe what my child really needs is our unconditional love, and a favourite cuddly toy which is soft and old and worn, and being read to all the time, and its grannies and granddads and aunty and uncle teaching it about life and the world and where it came from.

I know one thing for sure. This is the biggest adventure of our lives and its one that I’m finally ready for. And sometimes it will take all I’ve learned about happiness and positivity to keep me going when times are tough, but the joy this little thing will bring will teach me more about life and love than I ever imagined possible.

So wriggle away wee man, we love you very much, and we can’t wait to meet you in March!

A London girl’s guide to getting hitched

So, The Chef and I got hitched just over a month ago – hurrah – and, while I slowly sink back to earth, catch up on sleep, and enjoy being able to EAT and DRINK again, I thought I’d write down some stuff I learned along the way *:

1. The dress – there’s nothing like wedding dress shopping to drop a giant big turd on your “special day”. They tell you you need 6 months to order your dress, then say they haven’t got any free appointments for 2 months, and sometimes even say you have to pay £20 for the privilege. Some make you take off your shoes at the door, wear gloves and rush you to be in and out in an hour. Importantly, there is far too little champers handed out (big up to Mirror Mirror and Teokath for bucking this trend). Fact is, unless you get it made, buy it second hand or go vintage, you’ll pay an average of £2,000 for your dress and the alteration process is a nightmare that goes on for hours. The upside is that if you pick the right one, you’ll feel incredible on the day, and its a great lesson in what suits you so I found my wardrobe also improved. These are the dress shops that I think are worth going to:

• Teokath in Wimbledon – where I got my lovely Lusan Mandongus dress. They have a great selection of dresses, are friendly, have a lovely dress fitter who will patentiently address all your concerns (pull it in! more! shit I can’t breathe!), and you can also buy jewellery there.
• Jenny Packham in Pimlico – hard to get an appointment, but gorgeous beaded 1920s Great Gatsby style dresses. Best suited to tall skinny people though.
• Mirror Mirror and Morgan Davies in Islington for great selection of dresses, although at Morgan Davies you have to pay £20 for appointments.
• Alice Temperley in Notting Hill – amazingly different, electic dresses, perfect for the actresses and extroverts amongst you. Lovely room to try on stuff and great to try something different.
• Suzanne Neville in Knightsbridge – lovely dresses and lovely staff although I was slightly put off by their posters of Danielle Lineker that adorn the walls.
• While I’m at it, Bridal Rogue Gallery on Chiltern Street has an amazing selection of shoes and jewellery, and borrow the veil from a friend (sooo expensive).

2. Self-preservation, head fuckwittage and general wellbeing -while getting married was the happiest day of my life, and I am absolutely loving being a newlywed, I put my hands up and say not only it is bloody stressful, for me the pre-wedding preparations was a time when I needed to work at staying happy. I remember when I was single I got annoyed at my engaged friends moaning, thinking you should be happy – I’m having to go to Tiger Tiger this Saturday and you’re sticking me on the single table! And I too found that when I moaned about the pressure, I had people saying I should be happy and why was I sweating the small stuff, which I found pretty unhelpful.

But I now know (and sorry to my married freinds who I was unsympathetic to before!) that weddings bring to the fore issues of self-esteem, highlight family problems, make you miss people who can’t be there, shine the spotlight on friendships, showing who you can count on and who are always too busy.

And, more than that, the fact that you have now got what you’ve always wanted, have all this attention on you, is a little overwhelming and sometimes, there is a tiny little voice that says

why me? how could I be this lucky? I don’t deserve this happiness!

…and you have to organise lots, and think about things you don’t normally give a crap about like flowers and hairstyles and ribbons and napkins and garters.

And you suddenly feel bad about all your married friends who you were a bitch to when you were single and unhappy, acting with indifference to husbands and children, getting horrifically drunk at weddings and snogging the best man. It made me feel guilty that they were all so lovely to me and didn’t hold my previous bad behaviour and impatience against me (apart from one – who pointed out when I emailed accomodation details 4 months before that I RIPPED brides apart for doing this at previous weddings).

And you don’t sleep brilliantly and you are dieting, and you might get cold sores or excema, and start being a fucking bitch to your husband-to-be, and then you worry he might not marry you after all and then…. Argh!

After a recommendation from a friend,  who commented very kindly on how ragged I was looking, I became a walking pharmacy of things-that-help. This stuff calmed me down and zenned me out, so much so that I was surprisingly cool and calm on the big day:

• A sleepy time dream pillow spray of lavender
• Valerian herbal anti-anxiety tablets (I had one called Quiet Life that was amazing)
• Herbal sleeping pills (I used Nytol)
• Buy bottles of Bach Rescue remedy for work, in your handbag, in your car, at home. Use frequently, especially when he says “but there isn’t anything to do!“.
• Vitamin B complex helps with stress and energy and cold sores.
• I’m not ashamed to say that due to my erratic behaviour and feeling a bit overwhelmed I had a “maintenance” session with my amazing counsellor (email me for deets) – she made me realise what was upsetting me and why I was finding things difficult because I just didn’t t hink I deserved all this wonderful stuff happening to me. She made me realise I did deserve it – I’ve worked so hard on my faults, on my happiness, on this blog, on relationships and life and family. I’ve worked bloody hard and I do deserve it. I deserve The Chef – he’s my reward somehow. And I am lucky, I won’t forget that.

3. Grooming. I found it stressful thinking I had to be the thinnest I’d ever been, the most beautiful. And what if you wake up with spots? Or excema? Or a cold sore? My friend pointed out that a bride’s beauty comes from within, from the fact that she is so happy she’s glowing, and on the day itself I was in this smiley bubble all day, but we all need a little help so here’s where I went:

• Linda Meredith in Knightsbridge does amazing facials and oxygen facials where they push oxygen into your skin. Made me glow for about a week. Not cheap (£100 for a facial and £100 for the oxygen thing) but I got a voucher from Keynoir at half the price.
• Lorraine at Expressions gave me a set of amazingly natural-looking eyelash extensions (to avoid the Sam from TOWIE look, just ask for a lash on every 2nd or 3rd lash and volume rather than length) which looked amazing on the big day and meant I didn’t have to wear any make-up for the week before and for almost 3 weeks afterwards so perfect for honeymoon. She works from her rather hard-to-find flat in Hammersmith but its well worth going.
• Michael Becman who works at Space NK in Edinburgh did my hair and make-up – we kept it very light and natural, and as I was getting married outside in a garden, we put flowers and pearls in my hair. Mikee’s not only a great make-up artist, he is hilarious and kept us all laughing on the big day.

4. The cake. Oh my look at that beauty above. We utterly lucked out with the cake. I found cake shopping quite disappointing, the fact that a simple, boring-looking, traditional three-tiered cake costs minimum £300 and often didn’t taste or look that great. And then through twitter we met Lisa Brunton-Stocks (@harbourhussy), who is mad about cakes, and actually, pretty mad full stop. She drove all the way from Aberdeen to Edinburgh to let us taste her cakes which were incredible, and for the first time I got excited about what a wedding cake could be. She was amazingly inspired and creative and spent ages getting it perfect – sending me pictures of edible pearls and meringue to match my dress, matching the decoration to the lace on my dress and my bouquet. It was a jaw dropping cake and amazingly delicious. And on the way to honeymoon, I read this blog her friend wrote about the work that went into it: http://willtravelforcake.wordpress.com/2012/04/08/an-epic-wedding-cake/. If you can’t find your own Lisa, then I reckon M&S has some brilliant, unique cakes at good prices (check out this upside down white choc version).

5. The photographer. We used Paul Raeburn who took these amazing photos. We hated posed photos and interminable group shots that last for hours and he was perfect. Really artistic photos in a journalist style capturing amazing moments – The Chef kissing my forehead during the service, my sister crying and waving as she said goodbye before I walked down the aisle, my bridesmaid pouring her drink into my glass as I was “thirsty”. We wanted to spend the day enjoying ourselves and being with our friends so he was the perfect photographer.

6. The wedding. As neither of us is particularly religious, and we wanted to marry somewhere unusual and unique, and not particularly traditional, we had a Humanist ceremony undergiant redwood trees in the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh. Being in Scotland, it rained a bit, but I loved the freedom of us all huddled together under these trees and we loved the Humanist ceremony where our celebrant talked about how we met, what we loved about each other, and about how much we loved our friends and family. We sang Happy Together by the Turtles, had a piper playing me down the aisle, and my friends read a poem they’d written. It was moving, emotional, funny and we loved it. We then ate haggis, neeps and tatties, ended with deep fried Mars Bar with an Irn-Bru chaser and ceilidhed the night away. Humanist ceremonies aren’t legal in England sadly but we’re hoping this will change as its a fantastic alternative to a registry office ceremony.

9. The extras that no-one really cares about but you bend over backwards to do anyway:

• The Chef was right – favours are indeed largely ignored so don’t spend much money (we got married at Easter so we gave everyone little bags filled with Easter eggs).
• One thing we did that everyone loved though was table names of our favourite restaurants and we told the story of the time we went there.
• We didn’t have an order of service as the ceremony was so special we wanted people to be engaged and surprised all the way through, and stop people flicking through to see what was next and when they could get a drink. We did get amazing creative invitations through Nirvana CPH – we did the invite in the guise of a menu and they looked amazing.

* for another point of view, you might also want to read my thoughts on being single in London.

An update from the HPL

It’s been a few months since I’ve written the blog and quite a lot has happened in that time. It seems like a good time to update you so here goes, deep breaths!

On my birthday in Brockwell Park a couple of months ago, The Chef asked me to marry him, and I said yes. This was followed by excitement and champagne and a rush of wedding organisation as our chosen venue (the Botanics in my hometown of Edinburgh) only had one date left for 2012 which made us move quite fast. The reaction of our friends and families was completely brilliant – we felt very loved, and as if everyone thought we were a great couple and were really happy for us.

This was then followed, I now admit, by a period of what might only be described as mild panic. Not about the wedding – I’m remarkably chilled about all that, dare I say it I’ve found it quite fun so far; nor about The Chef who is completely (mostly) perfect in every single way and with whom I share a passionate love of words, The Killing, musicals, Deacon Blue and anything edible that makes you put on weight – but about the fact that I’m finally growing up (at 34, late starter), starting a family of my own, settling down. There’s also the panic of this is it, forever! What a gamble! How scary! But then I think this is balanced by the stability it brings, which is wonderful – you have someone to support you emotionally and financially, a real team, even by law. You can’t walk away easily, you have try to be nice and supportive at all times, it’s not just me on my own against the world. And for me, a bit of a loner at times, that is a scary but exciting thing.

I’m back to bliss again – looking forward wildly to the wedding and entering a phase which I can foresee is likely to become highly irritating to others. Of course, I think our wedding is going to be the best party known to man ever in the world, and I want everyone to be where I want them and when. I’m gutted when someone can’t make it or suggests they won’t stay long, or will be giving birth shortly before or after or in one case, during. I love talking about the wedding, the cake, the flowers, the food, and I’m only just managing to stop before it gets inutterably dull.

For those who are interested in such things, I have a gorgeous sparkly ring, a lovely dress, and our wedding theme is Braveheart meets Mrs DoubtFire with the wedding scene from Robin Hood Prince Of Thieves – it’s all haggis and tartan and thistles and man-skirts and whisky and The Proclaimers. As The Chef put it, it’s sort of like a wedding that an American couple would plan if their great-great-grandfather claimed to be from Dundee.

So that, dear friends, is my news. Is finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with the key to happiness? Not really no, the ups and downs remain, but it’s different now, I’m different, it’s not just me, it’s us. And that’s a very happy prospect.

GUEST POST – Sophia St. Viller introduces Naked Girls Reading (and win tickets to the next show)

Note from Sasha: Ever since I watched a programme on burlesque, I have admired the women who do it – their confidence in their bodies and sexuality, their sense of humour and sexiness and fun. And I love the vintage other-worldliness about it – the Marilyn Monroe / Joan from Mad Men style and glamour. So I was delighted to get in touch with Sophia St. Villier (“The Tantalising Titian-Haired Teaser”) , London’s own burlesque performer and model, and I’ve been dying to see her Naked Girls Reading for a while now. I’m sadly away next week (celebrating my engagement to The Chef – more soon!) so will miss it but thought this was a good chance for Sophia to explain all about it here. She has also kindly offered a pair of tickets to a lucky HPL reader to see it. Enjoy!!

Sophia St. Villier is a London-based, New Zealand-bred burlesque performer. She produces the shows Naked Girls Reading London and Gals and Gags – an event combining stand up comdey and burlesque striptease. She is also co-founder of Be a Pleasure to Yourself, an event where women learn about vintage lingerie and seduction.

Once upon a time, three brainy and beautiful princesses got lost in an enchanted pub in the land of Nudity. They decided to calm a rowdy audience with fairy tales from the brothers Grimm, Hans Christian Andersen, Charles Perrault and Angela Carter.

Naked Girls Reading is a cross between a book club and burlesque. I invite some of my burlesque friends to join me on stage to read stories. Each event has a unique theme.Previous themes have been London, Royalty, Bedtime Stories and Classic Mythology. On Tuesday 27th of September at a Secret Location very close to Kensal Green station, we are reading Fairy Tales, as voted for by our fans. Naked Girls Reading unites two of my passions: literature and gorgeous, naked women. I have been performing burlesque for three years in London and I am a total book worm – the child who read with a torch under the blankets. People who attend our events say how much they enjoy being read aloud to and it is a lovely environment to see women enjoying their bodies. I love the moment when I get on stage and see everything magically come together – the pieces the girls and I have decided to read, the chemistry between the performers, the interaction (verbally!) with the audience. This month I am sharing the stage with blonde beauty Lil Miss-Chievous, who has brilliant comic timing (she can read a dry, Victorian piece and have the audience in hysterics) and Crimson Skye, a witty, sexy performer who recently had a sold out one-women show at The Lowry.

I am particularly excited about reading Fairy Tales, as I have been fascinated by Fairy Tales since I was young and studied variations of ‘Bluebeard’ at university. The tricky part is picking what to read!

I hope to see you at Naked Girls Reading – it promises to be an exciting and educational evening. I am offering a pair of tickets to Naked Girls Reading Fairy Tales to the first three Happiness London Project readers who answer the following question correctly:

Who wrote ‘The Little Mermaid’?

a) Walt Disney

b) Hans Christian Andersen

c) The Brothers Grimm

I will pick a winner from comments left by 3pm on Friday 23 September. Naked Girls Reading Fairy Tales Tuesday 27th September 2011 Secret Location near Kensal Green 7:30pm.

http://nakedgirlsreading.com/london/

My article in the Telegraph about the London riots & why we need to be positive

Like you, I’ve been shocked, saddened and baffled by the London riots which have demolished whole areas of London, including parts of Brixton where I live. My thoughts about it have swung wildly from anger to intellectualising to worry about the future, but the recent clean ups and stories of communities pulling together have reignited my positivity so much so that I feel proud to be a Londoner again.

Here’s a link to  my article, and I hope you all stay safe and well:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/uk/london/8693172/London-riots-its-time-for-positive-action-over-public-apathy.html

GUEST POST – A layperson’s guide to vino by Suzanne & Justin @ Griffinwell Wines

Note from Sasha: Guest post season commences! As anyone who reads this blog will know, wine makes me happy*. And my love of wine has developed from teenage glasses over dinner at mum’s house, to bottles of pinot grigio with the girls after work, to wine-tastings in the Hunter Valley and Mendoza, to now – as a sort-of grown up with more developed tastes – to wanting to pay a bit more for a beautiful bottle that makes a meal incredibly special (yet, lets face it, I still enjoy a £5 Lindemans Sauvy B from time to time too…). I still don’t know enough so I asked lovely friends Suzanne & Justin from Griffinwell Wines, who were kind enough to let me drink all their wine  help out at their Taste of London stall a few weeks ago, to answer some basic questions.

 Suzanne & Justin at Taste of London

1. One problem I’ve found with French wines is that when I go to a French restaurant, I get handed a wine list with the names of Chateaux and dates, but without helpful pointers like the type of grape. This is the same when I’ve gone to a French supermarket. How can I pick a great white and red wine with only this information?

Honestly, the French make the some of the best wines in the world but they wouldn’t win any awards for making their product easy to understand. It’s kind of like walking into a modern art gallery and trying to make sense of the latest “masterpiece” when the extent of your art knowledge was that last colouring book you had when you were five. With restrictive labeling laws, tremendous regional diversity, and often complex blends, how should a mere mortal approach French wine?

First plan of attack should be to ask some questions and to describe what you tend to like and what kind of wine you’re in the mood for. In a restaurant setting, the sommelier should be able to provide guidance on the entire wine list. In the supermarket, look for shelf-talkers that will provide you with a bit of information. Also, be sure to look at back labels when they are available as the grape varieties are often found there.

Secondly, pay attention to regional differences in pricing. “Brand names” likeBordeaux, Burgundy and Champagne tend to carry more prestige so often come with an associated markup. A wine from Languedoc-Roussillon or the Loire at the same price point as a Burgundy is almost certainly going to be better value for money. Another good rule of thumb is to look out for “Premier Cru” or “Grand Cru” on the label. These are wines which typically come from better sites.

It’s true that French wines can be intimidating but don’t let that put you off! Taking a class or a going to a couple of wine tastings is a great way to get educated. If that’s not an option, organize informal tastings with friends around a particular region.

2. Summer is all about bottles of rosé in beer gardens – not too heavy or sweet preferably. What should I be looking for and are there any you can recommend?

Rosé wine got a bad rap a few years back because of the sickly sweet stuff coming out of California. The trend in recent times has definitely been toward drier styles and even the guys are getting on board! As a rule of thumb, things to look out for when shopping for that perfect summer rosé are:

• If you see “demi-sec” on a bottle of rosé, that means it is semi-sweet so stay away if you don’t want the sweetness.
• Provence-style rosés tend to be very dry with high acidity which makes them very refreshing and perfect for summer. Rosés from the Loire are often lighter in alcohol and generally are overlooked and under-valued so keep an eye out for some of those.  Outside of France, Portugal in particular is worth a try.
• Price – Don’t be afraid to pay upwards of £8 for a rosé, you won’t be disappointed with the difference in quality.

At Griffinwell, we have a number of rosés in stock that definitely fit the bill – Le Guêpier from Domaine de Ravanès went down a treat at Taste of London this year, and we’ve got a new highly rated rosé from our Sancerre producer just in. All are dry and light but with enough roundness so as not to be aggressive. If you are into spicy foods then a little hint of sweetness can help to balance the heat – we’d recommend our Cabernet d’Anjou if you want rosé with your curry.

3. When I go to a wine tasting, apart from the taste, what should I be looking for?

Get a spot close to the food, and watch out for lots of people looking overly pretentious whilst they swirl the wine around in their glasses. In all seriousness, wine is truly a sensory experience so you can spend as little or as much time as you like enjoying the ride. Sight, smell, taste, it’s all there. Colour can provide indications of a wine’s age and whether or not it has been filtered. Swirling serves to release aromas in the wine, and palate cleansers like bread or crackers can help you taste differences between wines. Some foods can really help a wine shine so be sure to try any suggested food pairings.

It’s easy to get caught up in wine analysis but at the end of the day, it should be a pleasure. Have some fun and don’t be afraid to expand your horizons!!

4. I used to spend no more than £3.50 on a bottle of wine but my tastes have got more sophisticated and I find it hard to find wine I like in my local supermarket. Where should I be looking to buy wine from and how much should I spend on a decent bottle? Is it just a big mark up or is it worth paying more?

It is DEFINITELY worth paying more for wine if you’re looking for something of higher quality and with a little more sophistication. When buying wine, take the following into consideration:

• Approximately 50% of a £5 bottle of still wine goes straight to taxes (it’s more for sparkling). This doesn’t even start to account for cost of transportation, storage, packaging, etc.
• Thus, only about 10p of a £5 bottle actually goes into making the wine
• A £10 bottle has more than 20 times the available cash to go into making quality wine than does a £5 bottle

Always try to buy from someone who will provide the support you deserve when picking out some decent wine (see question 1). We have a special section on our site called “Ask Suzanne” for this very purpose. Whether you are buying from us or not we are happy to act as a sounding board!

It’s amazing how much of a leap in quality you get by spending just a few pounds more – aim for £8 and above as a starting point for higher quality juice.  

5. What is the perfect red wine to drink with steak? And the best easy-drinking white wine for after work drinks?

With wine, “perfect” is in the eye of the beholder. That said, tannins can help in the digestion of protein so we tend to go for bigger style reds when pairing wine with steak. Personal favourites would be Bordeaux, Rhône and Languedoc-Roussillon. If you’re an Argentinean Malbec fan, try a wine from Cahors, made from the same grape. From the Griffinwell collection, be sure to try the Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon from Domaine de Ravanès or the Cuvée Del Ros from Domaine Mas Rous.

In terms of easy-drinking whites, there are so many to choose from! Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc have been popular for a while and those are great choices of course. Unoaked Chardonnays are increasingly fashionable and can be wonderfully refreshing. If you want to expand your palette, we would encourage you to try Riesling from Germany or Alsace, Chenin Blanc in a lighter style, or Torrontes from Argentina. And don’t forget the bubbles! We particularly recommend French crémant  – “the other champagne” – or Viognier from Domaine Brescou. (Note from Sasha – I’m a big fan of cremant, especially served in those lovely flat French glasses, and Viognier since I tasted it in Hunter Valley – amazing with Thai food, and Rieslings from Austria that Lady B let me try…sigh…)

6. Does the alcohol percentage of the wine matter? And is there any way (apart from the obvious!) to avoid white wine hangovers?

Alcohol is a byproduct of grape fermentation and as such is a key element in wine so it definitely matters in that context. Alcohol percentage is a legally regulated element – table wine has to be less than 15% ABV or it is considered fortified.  

The hangover question is one that haunts us all! To avoid, try to pace yourself, always have food with wine, and drink lots of water in between sips. Going for lighter alcohol wines is another way to keep things under control.

7. Why do you get “bits” at the bottom of your glass when you drink heavy red wine? Is this a good thing?

Sediment is more common in unfiltered wines and/or wines that are designed for long ageing. The “bits” you sometimes see in a bottle or a glass are nothing to be concerned about and usually indicate a fine wine that has already spent some years in the bottle.

8. Can you recommend some amazing vineyards for me to visit next time I’m in France? What is the etiquette for wine tasting – can I just rock up or do I need to book? Am I expected to buy anything?

So many to choose from!! My advice would be to start with a guidebook. Alistair Sawday has a one called “French Vineyards” which is a great starting point.  

In terms of etiquette, it is always best to call and book, particularly for smaller vineyards. If you have paid for a tasting, you are not necessarily expected to buy. However, if you have gone through a range of wines and have spent time going through the winery, common courtesy is to make at least a small purchase.

9. Apart from snobbery, is there any reason why I shoudn’t buy screw top wine? And if cork, how can I tell if the wine is corked?

There’s no reason not to buy screw top unless you’re a traditionalist – some of us just can’t resist the sound of a cork being pulled! For wines that are intended for long cellaring, the jury is still out as screw top technology is fairly new. But particularly for wines that are intended to be enjoyed while young, the convenience of a screw top is hard to dispute.

Corked wines are easy to recognize once you’ve encountered a tainted bottle. Basically, if you sniff the wine in your glass and it gives off a distinctly musty odor without the expected wine aromas, it’s probably corked.

10. Tell me about the wines you sell.

All of our wines are hand-selected by the two of us from small, independent French winemakers. We seek out those bottles that punch truly above their weight in terms of value for money. We like to pay special attention to some of the lesser-known regions and styles, as France has more to offer than many consumers are aware of. For more information, be sure to visit www.griffinwell.com or ask Suzanne any wine question you might have!

The Griffinwell story

 

 

Suzanne Griffin and Justin Rudwell are longtime buddies and Americans from the South who first met at South Carolina’s International MBA programme well over a decade ago. The decision to start Griffinwell Wines came to them after copious amounts the stuff had been consumed in the French hill town of Sancerre. Two years on and fast forwarding to present day, the guy from Kentucky and the gal from North Carolina find themselves in London selling French wine to the British public.

 

The aim of Griffinwell Wines is to help wine lovers expand their wine experience in a way that is easy, reassuring and fun. By working exclusively with artisanal producers who control quality from vine to bottle, Griffinwell can always source the best hidden gems at the best prices. Griffinwell’s tagline, “What Wine Today”, is a nudge of encouragement to people who are up for trying great wines that punch above their weight. 

 

Griffinwell Wines offer a range of services for private, corporate and trade clients. More information available at www.griffinwell.com.

 

* Not medically proven, and not like tons of it, just over dinner and stuff, etc etc….