Who needs a crown when you have a precious original Sassy Vamp flowery headpiece?
Instead of watching the dreary roll call of "National Treasures" wheeled out for the concert in the Mall on Monday night, we thought we'd have our own gig at home. Karaoke - yay!
I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way - my girls.
Move over, Cheryl and Kylie, you've got competition!
Hang the DJ.
Seldom Seen got bored and decided to read a book instead of playing at being a rock star. Girly swot.
Guaranteed to blow your mind. Anytime.
I am a rock star. Can't you tell?
Someone at Lucky Voice (online karaoke site) has a sense of humour, their Jubilee playlist included Killer Queen, God Save the Queen and Rock the Boat. We sang them all.
There is no prouder moment than watching your kids belting out There is no future in England's dreaming. It quite brought a tear to my republican eye.
I had a good old chuckle over the various reactions to my last post on the vexing question of trousers.
I'll summarise;
I look OK/good in jeans/bad in jeans/need jeans that fit.
I should wear longer jeans/skinny jeans/bootcut jeans/never wear jeans.
I should wear the Valentino genitalia trousers because they are fabulous/to threaten the children/only if I wish to be certified insane.
I should stick to skirts and dresses/persevere in finding the right pair of trousers/jeans.
What is a girl to do but follow her own wayward heart?
(Next up - the shorts and swimwear questions, haha!)
It occurred to me as I was pondering all this, that back in my previous existence as a professional working in mental health, I did some Cognitive Behavioural Therapy training. One of the key strategies for bringing about behavioural change is the behavioural experiment. While challenging negative thoughts is important, the development of new and healthier beliefs only really happens as a result of experience. So, a socially anxious person is supported in deliberately putting themselves in what they perceive to be an embarrassing situation, and asked to observe what happens. (This is a very rough'n'ready description, but you get the idea.)
Take me. Average, not-a-rock-star little old me. I wore my "embarrassing" Valentino trousers out for tea to our favourite Chinese cafe. What happened? Did people look? Yes they did. Did I expire from anxiety and self-consciousness? I did not. Did the world stop turning because I wore mad trousers? It did not.
Behavioural experiment completed, lesson learned - they're only clothes and who gives a shit anyway?
So I'm happy to rock the boat and look a bit crazy and make myself, and hopefully you, laugh.
Rock on with your bad self! xxxx
