Battling style banality occurs
to me on a daily basis.
You’re perplexed? What on earth is Sheela talking about? Does the woman genuinely fight with her clothes? Yes, I do. Every single day. I’ve won some, I’ve lost a few, and there’s the occasional
amicable ceasefire truce too. Less the imagery of carnage arises in your minds, I promise that this be a war of words and of thoughts, albeit murderous in nature. My husband calls it my “fumigating with eyes” mood.
THAT "IF LOOKS COULD KILL" MOOD
Sorry, I was just thinking that it’s a look members of my gender are probably more than familiar with.
Back to debacles and battles. Do you ever get the sensation that clothes give lip? That they talk back, and act all sassy and brassy? I’m not in the least bit joking. In fact, I have the oddest impression that, given the chance, my brown top with the spiked elbow pads? And those new B&W flatform creepers? The tales they’d
spill tell. Let’s not even mention ye olde gingham bustle top or sapphire blue neoprene dress. Ooh baby.
When you think about it though, everything we act upon in life is generally a result of an internal (or, as the case may be, external) skirmish.
Resign from my “real world” job and blog full-time, or keep going at it part-time? Sleep in or get up and fix breakfast for those humans I call children? Pink or red, which shade makes my teeth look brighter and my complexion clearer? Salad or french fries? Alright, so the last one was rhetorical but the point is clear.
I realise today isn’t my usual lengthy dissertation but a healthy mix is always judicious in keeping things on the up and up, yes? Jokes aside, wouldn’t you agree that life as we know it is rife with conflict, both small and mighty? That every move we make is premeditated upon
careful consideration of weighing pros against cons?
A CASE OF ME VS ME
p/s photos by Sofia Touassa
I link up here.