Gemini Season

Well it would only make sense that I’d start posting to this blog during Gemini season. A sign considered either a lover or hate and let me honest by reputation it’s usually hate. However Virgo and Gemini share one ruler, Mercury god of chatting goodness and gossip in my books. Personally, I’ll be using this season to harness my inner enthusiast, pick up a hobby or two and drop it after a week of over confidence followed by another of frustration.

For each month I like to make a little mood board. You could consider it part vision board full of desperate manifestation goals, including as always “The Gucci Loafers” I never shut up about. The other part tangible goals and inspiration. In “lockdown” era London, it makes sense now is the time to blog and something about it feels brilliantly nostalgic. I’m almost tempted to whip out the Myspace era HTML, but I’ll leave that for a later time possibly more desperate.

HOME

All this time at home has made me crucially aware of my space, and how it does or more so doesn’t work. Every day I’m finding myself asking “Was this crack always there?” I’ve taken up growing herbs and spent more time trying not to kill them. Frantically repotting plants that I’m not entirely sure need repotting only to fit myself sat in my bath covered in mud swearing that I signed a lease on a flat without an in of yard. I’m finding myself spending hours on Pinterest admiring 70s style houses with Conversation Pits and rounded windows or walls that seem to go on for eons. When did architecture get so boring? Who decided we should just put a few squares on top of each other and call it “luxury”. I’m not here for it at all. Lets bring back Shag, and warm lighting and the feeling that the room could turn into an orgy at the mere sight of car keys.

WARDROBE

Ah how I spend my days wishing I had an unlimited budget for excessive sleeves. For the first time in my life I’ve found myself living somewhere with a GIANT wardrobe fit for Carrie Bradshaw, and barely the collection to fill it. The life of an Expat is a funny one, but I think the worst possible part is leaving behind my amazing wardrobe in various houses and even more boxes. Yes I miss beers in the park with friends, but my god I miss the perfect summer dress a little bit more, sorry Thea. As I fantasise of my dream threads in lockdown wearing the same crop top for days on end, I pause on the question “What would I wear OUTSIDE?” Truth be told probably Birkenstocks and a loose enough dress to cover my newly found “quarantine body”, which I entirely blame on living with a Chef and no gym. But lets pretend just for today my giant built in was filled with Gingham, Puffy Sleeves and those Paloma Wool Yin Yang Sandals.