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The Fab 40s Pair Florals With Plaid

Pattern mixing galore.

Pairing seemingly disparate motifs.

 

I’ve come a long way from being petrified of the mere mention of prints.

There was a time when putting even a speck of red into an all Black garment meant utter chaos and disruption, let alone introducing anything remotely non solid into my outfit.   Even on those rare occasions when I was neither in Ebony nor Ivory, I would still pick one single block of colour to showcase.  I mean, I was perfectly comfortable with shine and glitz and colour on hair and/or lips (or on my feet) but somehow, on the body, it was just. not. me. 

Then.

When I began my foray into the world of patterns, I (naturally) began with my beloved B&W.

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Cautiously, ever so cautiously, I ventured into two prints.  Just two.  Subtle ones.  Nothing too clashing, same family (or same colour story).  I even achieved one allover print.  Or does that not count because it’s, ahem, black with white?

2016 and half of 2017 were very colourless.  From every possible perspective.  And that feeling clearly translated itself into the outfits I put together.  There was barely any oomph let alone vibrancy or spark.  Slivers of rainbows and sunshine started peeking through in June, but slivers still.  Tiny, modest doses which vanished for the rest of the year. 

More than likely coinciding with my mental turmoil with the state of my marriage at the time.

I did, however, end the year with a pop of print!!

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2018.

Sigh.  Another lacklustre year wherein lines and prints and patterns did not quite make an appearance in my life.  Save for delicate touches here and here and here.

Accessories, on the other hand, made quite the appearance on this here blog.  Wore a Santa hat.  Even paraded around in my bikini bottoms during Winter (and gave quite a show to the factory workers across the fence, quite unintentionally, shrug).

Like before, I ended the year with a loud splash of patterns.

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(don’t mind Michael, he’s making a guest appearance on the blog today)

I began 2019 with a bang.

Pairing florals with florals, and plaid with camo (and unicorns thrown in for good measure).  Ooh twice apparently.  Saying it loud and proud just last month with that god-challenging print known as zebra matched alongside stripes.

So when Mary of Curly Byrdie proclaimed florals + plaid for March, I stayed calm and nonplussed and, frankly, excited.  How things have changed, huh.  What once would have completely thrown me into a flurry of fear no longer does that.  Quite the opposite actually.  Isn’t that how life is in general though? 

Shall we now take a walk in the flower garden?  And see what my fab ladies served up?

Mary, Curly Byrdie Chirps

Mary | Curly Byrdie Chirps

What a fabulous find, Mary, that coat is.  Pretty plaid with flirty florals all rolled into one glorious concoction, made even more stunning with that dress and those gold heels.  My heart.

Suzy, Suzy Turner

Suzy | Suzy Turner

This is most definitely a classic rendition of flowers with plaid, if such a term ever existed for the combo, and Suzy makes it look so effortless classy.  Especially with that scarf.

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

Jennie | A Pocketful of Polka Dots

Jennie looks damn badass and cool, with that delicate floral kimono duster speaking volumes about femininity, and those contrasting plaid trousers.  See the peak of polka dots too??

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Shelbee | Shelbee On The Edge

My miniskirt twin!!  A gorgeous blend of two different plaids (genius) beautifully offset with that crisp white shirt and then a touch of girly glam comes through in those darling boots.

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

Daenel | Living Outside The Stacks

The queen of delicate touches.  Daenel does it again with darling hints of the month’s theme, this time on her pretty ballet flats.  Note the plaid and flower combination.  So charming.

And then there’s me.  I had loads of fun with this one.  Clearly.  I wanted to challenge myself with creating nuances here and there to reflect the theme and that’s why if you peer a little closer, you’ll see that I’m wearing a sheer, chiffon floral bodysuit under my floral dolman sleeve top.  And that there are flowers embroidered on my newsboy cap too.  Truthfully, I really did mean to wear my plaid booties to finish the look but I couldn’t find them that day.  Sigh.

Sheela Goh | Sheela Writes

Rose Dolman Sleeved Top (tiny boutique in Schulenburg) | Floral Chiffon Bodysuit & Embroidered Rose Cap (Forever 21) | Gen Plaid Mini Skirt (thrifted) | Red Leather Cuff (Unearthed) | Snake Ring (Taylor Swift) | Ankle Booties (Bakers)

Have we somehow inspired you to look at florals and/or plaid differently?  Which of these looks would you go for?  Are you a floral on floral sort of woman?  Or does combining different types of plaids together get you all giddy with excitement?

Until next time friends, have a good one.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

 

Denim Dreams

Denim, Denim,

Wherefore art thou?

 

Do you belong in the workplace?

These days, that’d be an emphatic affirmative, I’m certain.  Regardless of the nature of what you do, and the environment of your workplace.  Be it on a daily basis or as part of Casual Friday attire, denim definitely has a place in your working wardrobe.  And isn’t that a lovely thing?  Yes, even for someone like me who discovered blue jeans very late in life (hey, I’m making up for lost time as we speak, case in point, this post).

And so, when Debbie and I began chatting about working together (the last time, it was a trifecta of velvet goodness), we decided on good ole jeans.

As is often the case, my mind immediately leapt to several points of irony.

Once upon a time (4 years ago, to be precise), I posted an anti-denim project (with Ann) which, soon enough, paved the way for denim to be seen here but conservatively, i.e., heels.  That, in turn, opened the door for this sighting and another here.

Since then, denim (in all its renditions) have made quite the regular appearance in my outfits (here, here, also here and here, here, and here).

Which is why, when Debbie and I agreed upon jeans, I was determined to find a way to wear my pair with as many unexpected elements as I possibly could.  To make as different a statement in denim as I possibly could.  Hence the varied textures (soft silk + buttery smooth leather + heavy plaid) and jeans tucked into, hurray, embroidered denim booties.  Visual as well as tactile impact.

I believe I achieved just that but guess what?  So too my cool, fierce friend.

Why, we ended up just about twinning.  And I love that.

Take a look for yourself.

Never before, in the course of collaborating with someone, have our looks turned out with such similarities!!!  And not once did we share what we were planning.  Nary a hint.  Has that ever happened to you?  I mean, I’ve done plenty a project with Jodie, worked with Patti and Linda and, of course, Eve, but to witness the sartorial styles of all collaborators crossing paths in such synchronicity?

What a visual treat.

One I hope you’ll enjoy as much as we did, putting it together.  Which, I wonder, is the look you’d want to wear most?

Come back next week when I’ll have yet another something to share.

 

Love, Sheela

I link up here.

The Fab 40s Meet Lord Animal & Lady Neon

Staying grounded.

How does one do that these days?

 

A shared insight on one of Deb’s Instagram posts sparked an entire conversation around the topic of grounded.  Staying grounded.  How we strive to attain it in this mad, mad world.  What it means to each of us which, by the way, has had me pondering.  What does staying grounded even mean to me?  I know I use the phrase on occasion.  I’ve heard it spoken around me many a time and am (always) guilty of nodding my head in acquiescence without once asking the one who mouthed those words, what staying grounded really meant to them.

Are we talking about being spiritually grounded?  You know, all that warm, fuzzy feeling around the campfire (can you tell I’m a bit of a cynic?)?  Or being emotionally grounded (levelheaded, humble)?  Or are speaking in terms of experience, education, knowledge?  Lord.  So much to soak in.

Today, I choose to focus on living a grounded life, staying in touch with my emotions and thoughts, and, well, being as present in the moment as I possibly can.  The question is how does that translate into actionable steps I can take on a daily basis?

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I’ve broken down what I feel I can realistically do.

1. Live simply and live deliberately.  By choosing to do my part to slow down the rat race.  By choosing to spend more time to enjoy being alive.

2. Staying in touch with myself.  Some soul searching, meditation, and journaling.  Staying aware and learning as much as I can about my emotions, reactions, likes, dislikes, dreams, and fears.  Working towards gaining a solid sense of self.

3. Support others as often as I can.  Form connections with people.  No (wo)man is an island and all that is really rather true.  There’s being alone and there’s being alone, as most of us know.

4. Be judicious about what I read, see, listen.  The media bombards us with visions of hate and pain, biasedness and intolerance.  I must choose what I will allow into my being.

5. Acknowledge the beauty that resides around me.  No matter where I call home, beauty exists in every corner, just waiting to be discovered.

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6. Nurture my ties to my tribe (or tribes).  Be part of a circle. Its members will be a source of support, caring, guidance, and companionship in a world which can often seem isolating.

7. See the larger picture. Widen my perspective and remember that the way I choose to live is not the only way to live.

8. Embrace the challenges that life presents to me, and challenge myself often.  To never stop learning and absorbing knowledge, experiences, adventures.

9. Move my body.  It is oh too easy to be sedentary these days. Movement reacquaints me with my body, and connects me to it in a visceral way.

10. Make time for stillness, silence, solitude.  To reacquaint myself with my mind and thoughts.

I think 10 items is a decent, doable number 🙂

Sheela Goh | Sheela Writes BlogSheela Goh | Sheela Writes BlogSheela Goh | Sheela Writes Blog

On a much lighter (and far more random but not so random) thought, the Fab 40s.  This month, it was my turn (hurray!!).  I knew from as early on as last November that I wanted to invite alumni member Sam to be my guest blogger when February 2019 swung around.  And I did, shot her an email and all that, and was thrilled to bits when her response came back as a resounding yes!!!  

Being the gracious hostess that I was (ha, as if, I’m such an antisocial person GRIN), I asked Sam to pick the theme for this month and when she replied with, “Let’s do Spring 2019 Trends Zebra.  Or Neon.  Or both?“, I swear, my jaw dropped so low I could’ve built a railway track to the underworld.  After a spurt of sputtering and gasping, I asked if we could perhaps have a wee bit of middle ground?  That perhaps we could make it any animal print, because I honestly don’t think many of us have abstract brush stroke-like patterned items of clothing that are zebra print garments lurking in the confines of our closets.

And that’s how it came to be. 

The theme for this month. 

L O R D    A N I M A L    M E E T S    L A D Y    N E O N

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I confess, I did go out and purchase this neon number adorning the top half of my body but you must understand, I do not own a single neon item at all.  I’ve always shied away from that particular palette because I’ve been convinced it does absolutely nothing for my colouring save make me look like Grace Jones without makeup.  Everything else, I thrifted (so proud).

But enough of me.

Let’s begin the animal parade, shall we?  Don’t forget to put on your sunnies first.  I slay me.

Suzy, Suzy Turner

Suzy Turner | Pixie Chick in Portugal

Subdued isn’t the word I’d use, Suzy, I think you mean classy.  Not many of us would consider animal print as being something to be worn during the day, even lesser the number who’d pick neon + animal print, and pull them off together effortlessly as you have.  I adore your interpretation of this month’s theme and how you’ve made two very stroke accents work harmoniously together in something very pared down and wearable.

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

Jennie Lam | A Pocketful of Polka Dots

I knew there’d be something pink in Jennie’s outfit, I just knew it.  What I wasn’t expecting (which was silly of me given how she completely outdoes herself with each theme) was for an outfit that exuded such a polished, preppy vibe.  Clearly those adjectives aren’t typically what you’d associate with neither animal print nor neon!!!  But that she did, pairing a statement blazer with sleek top and well-cut pants, adding pops of bubblegum pink along the way.

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Shelbee | Shelbee On The Edge

I always expect the unexpected from Shelbee, especially this month, given the curve ball nature of the theme I’d chosen (profanities abounded on your end too, huh LOL), and she did not disappoint.  Serving up a buffet of saucy neon appetisers to whet the appetite for a sumptuous offering of exotic animal prints.  Love all that, love even more the adventures you traipsed through to create this look.  You’re welcomed GRIN

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

Daenel | Living Outside The Stacks

I was most curious to see how Daenel would go about tackling this theme.  Prior months have witnessed her adapt with a deft hand, artfully steering themes into her style, with panache but you know, animal print + neon is rather a different beast of its own.  Hasn’t she done it with absolute ease?  A bright splash of luminosity in her sweater, tempered with classic denim (such a signature piece) and then touches of the wild side with those pretty flats.  Bravo.

Now meet Sam (for those of you who don’t already know the inimitable Ms Fake and Fabulous).  She is, to me, a walking rainbow, with a matching spirited disposition.  An icon of all hues vivid and bright, both personality-wise and sartorially-speaking.  The patron saint of pattern mixology.  And my comrade in arms when it comes to saying it loudly, and most proudly.  I am ever so happy to have her here, joining us this month, for my turn, and I am even more happy that her outfit is such an authentic rendition of who she is as a strong, confident, sexy woman who wears what she enjoys.

Sam, Fake & Fabulous

Samantha Blair | Fake & Fabulous

And then there’s me.

Truthfully, this was hard AF for me too!!  But isn’t that the point?  To come up with something that would challenge us beyond anything we expected, in the most fun and tribe-bonding fashion possible???  I do feel sorry that some of us had to go out and buy stuff (I am contrite, I swear I am) but I feel that everyone had loads of fun putting their bits together in this delightfully naughty encounter which has Lord Animal meeting Lady Neon (think Lady Chatterly’s Lover, or Lord Byron), and both absolutely fawning over each other.

Sheela Goh | Sheela Writes Blog

Bright Lights, Big City, Neon Jacket (New York & Co) | Studded Navy & White Tank (Poshmark) | Zebra Print Palazzo Pants (worn tucked in, thanks to babe for the idea, and for the green zebra print bracelet, who knew, right?), Studded White Ankle Booties & Striped B&W Newsboy Cap (all thrifted) | Pink & Blue Bracelets (What Would V Wear)

I must also confess that I almost went super tongue-in-cheek rogue with a skirt that had teeny tiny zebras in a cute print, but I refrained.  I figured that staying grounded also translated into staying true to my style aesthetics, and having zebras prancing all over my hemline wasn’t quite authentically me.

That thought did create a new one (you know me) which was this – just how much does how we dress, what we wear, influence or impact upon how we stay grounded?

Until tomorrow then, when I have a special project with my fab fierce friend, Debbie.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

The Fab 40s Do The Decade

40s, 50s, 60s?

Which One Spells You?

 

Lately my mind has been preoccupied with the concept of courage.  Daring to do things I normally wouldn’t because I’d be too afraid.  Be it something as rudimentary as swapping signature red for a softer pink on the lips, or walking up to a complete stranger at an event and saying, “Hello!! I’m Sheela, what’s your name?”.

Admittedly, accompanying that heady rush of adrenaline (aka bravado) is an equally powerful sense of nausea and wanting to throw up but still, courage and being courageous have been taking over my heart, mind and spirit these days.

The courage to speak my mind when I feel my needs are not being met or when I believe my opinions are not being heard.  Courage to reach out and ask for something I know I deserve and am fully capable of helping it realise its full potential.  And no longer allowing society to dictate whether I can or cannot based on some unfathomable parameters. 

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Most of all, the courage to recognise fear but refusing to let it cripple me, and hold me back.

Are you on that same path?

Keeping your chin up, above water level so you’re continuing to breathe even as you cautiously step forward into the deep end?

Isn’t it the scariest, most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done though?

E Q U A L    P A R T S    N A U S E A    A N D    B U T T E R F L I E S

Sheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela Writes

Afraid that you may be making the wrong choices.  Afraid you’ll fail.  Afraid that you aren’t going to make it?  That you’re just not enough?

When was the last time you told yourself you were enough?  That you are brave and fearless and fierce.  That you are mistress of your own destiny and that you (and you alone) gets to decide which turn to take at every crossroad.  Or not.

When was the last time you told yourself you were enough and that the world is yours to conquer?  That you have every right to live the very best life you can, with no apologies.  To walk boldly and ferociously, with pride and conviction.

When was the last time you told yourself you were enough?

That in spite of being broken and bruised, you are (and will always be) beautiful and perfectly imperfect in every possible way, shape and form. That you wear your scars like badges of honour.

Sheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela Writes

When you finally realise it’s time to let go and love yourself with all the strength and passion bursting from within every single beat of your heart?

When you believe that you are truly are so much more than you know?

When was the last time you told yourself you were enough and that the world is yours to conquer?  That you have every right to live the very best life you can, with no apologies.  To walk boldly and ferociously, with pride and conviction.

When was the last time you told yourself you were enough?

That moment is here, the time is now.

Sheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela Writes

I held close to that thought process when I put together my look for #thefab40s last week, the theme being “favourite decade in fashion” as chosen by Daenel

I knew I wanted to be brave, so to speak, and take a nose dive straight into the decade which has always been my go to for inspiration, and aspiration, and muses.  The 90s. 

To not be afraid to just do what I wanted, go wild with mixing different types of prints and textures and shapes.  To go braless (although it’s completely not evident LOL), why yes, taking ownership and responsibility that this is my body, and mine alone to showcase as I desire. 

Essentially, to be courageous and boldly go where I’ve never ventured before in terms of celebrating the 90s and all its eccentric, flamboyant sartorial wonderfulness.

Sheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela WritesSheela | Sheela Writes

So thank you, Daenel for being the catalyst behind this epiphany of mine.

Onward and forward to what we’re doing collectively today, and that is to highlight an outfit inspired by a particular decade in fashion which has proved influential upon our aesthetics.  That one era which has left an unforgettable stamp on how we view garments, and how, consequently, we assemble them into outfits most reflective of who we are as fierce, fashionable females.

Allow me to begin with the purveyor of this month’s theme, Daenel.

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

Daenel | Living Outside The Stacks

If you, like me, have come to associate her style aesthetics with being a somewhat gothic interpretation of bohemian then I firmly believe you we have struck the nail on its head where Daenel is concerned.  Whilst this outfit of hers is inspired by the 50s with the silhouette and those Mary Janes, it’s that dark yet utterly feminine palette which beckons me so.  Charming but decidedly not Stepford wife girlish.

Suzy, Suzy Turner

Suzy | Pixie Chick in Portugal

Woman, you conquered this month’s theme.  You really did, with your fresh take on the 40s.  First of all, those colours (googly eyes).  They could’ve so easily gone Yuletide couture (or Halloween) but you artfully (and successfully) circumvented that cliche with a contrasting print pussy bow blouse and neutral bag.  I am so enthused over those palazzo pants to be honest, like seriously infatuated with them.

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

Jennie | A Pocketful of Polka Dots

No prizes for guessing which era takes Jennie’s cake (psst, it’s the 50s) with that body-hugging dress (wiggle, wiggle) and cardigan.  It’s clearly a time when womanly curves were celebrated with gusto and aplomb (and rightly so), when snug pencil skirts made for swaying hips, and the pointiest of heels created unforgettable impressions when she left the room.  You look amazing, my friend, this is most definitely your time.

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Shelbee | Shelbee On The Edge

There’s something about the 60s being free spirited that thoroughly spells Shelbee.  Out of all the styles I’ve seen her experiment with, this is probably my fave (ok, pin-up doll as well).  Her exuberance for life is beautifully expressed in the loud graphic print of that mod dress and them decidedly groovy fuchsia tights.  Then that fuzzy wonderland of a coat with its slightly exaggerated silhouette makes for the perfect bodacious touch.

Mary, Curlybyrdie Chirps

Mary | Curlybyrdie Chirps

Somehow, I did not think Mary would be picking the 70s as her time.  I had envisioned the 40s for her, you know, those hourglass peplum suits and pencil skirts.  Isn’t that the hallmark of a truly stylish woman though?  Constantly surprising everyone with her sartorial picks?  I adore everything on this woman’s body today, so many tiny little accents and details which instantly elevate Mary’s outfit from protestor to influencer. 

And then there’s me.

I don’t think the decade I chose came as much of a surprise to anyone, really GRIN

It’s Polished Punk for me this month.  Specifically, punk and rock n roll, with a healthy dose of ladylike badass boardroom babe (well, that was a mouthful). 

Sheela | Sheela Writes

Beaded & Embroidered Leather Jacket (Pinko) | Bustier Tulle Dress (Handmade) | White Blouse (Forever21) | Leather Boots (Bakers) | Rings (House of Harlow) | Belt (borrowed from boyfriend) | Beer Bottle (randomly found prop seen in other shots)

Tell me, which decade of fashion speaks to you most?

Which era is your utter fave?

Until the next post, I LOVES YOU.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

Extra(ordinary)

Now I’m ready,

To be extraordinary.

 

Question.

What do you do to turn the ordinary little things into extraordinary amazing things?  By that I don’t mean something divine or perched upon a lofty pedestal.  What I mean is that we need to take the time to see within the ordinary, its capacity to be a precious thing.  Something utterly extraordinary.  A gift.

Steering away from telling ourselves to strive for extraordinary lives.  That we can only be happy, only feel fulfilled if we lead extraordinary lives for while that might seem aspirational (admirable perhaps), it can also be rather lofty and fraught with unrealistic idealism.  All of which could very well be the path to setting ourselves up for disappointment.

Instead, we should be seeking to find the joy and marvel in living an ordinary, normal life.  Once we do that, the most mundane of things (nondescript even) will pulsate and come alive with magic and wonder.  The extraordinary will happen on its own then.

Take for instance the act of baking.

With Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s Eve just passed, there have been (far too) many scenarios wherein pulling out the ole mixer, bags of flour as well as sugar, eggs and butter have been called for.  Now, I adore baking up a storm but when you need to do it on a weekly basis (and in the instance of the 25th and the 31st, a mere six days), it gets very tiring very quickly.  In fact, it escalates into being a chore faster than you could measure a tbsp of vanilla.

I exaggerate but you know what I mean.  So, in order to turn this going-from-ordinary-to-killer-mundane activity into something extraordinary, I shared it with the people I love namely Eve and Michael.  In every possible way.  And by that I mean that essentially we baked an entire flourless chocolate cake together.

Perhaps assemble would be a more apt description.  Regardless, we each took ownership of one aspect of the cake-making process, enjoying every little aspect of it from melting butter with bitter chocolate (Eve claiming that she used her fire power to accomplish this) to Michael (gallantly) separating white from yolk, to my gently folding in the (almost flailing) meringue.

It was SO MUCH DAMN fun.

Rediscovering the joys of baking.

Making the ordinary come alive.

Letting the extraordinary happen.

Does that make sense?

As is the case with this photo shoot.

Allowing myself to really be in the moment with Eve, and thoroughly enjoy what we were doing.  The cold (it was 1 Celsius that day in Brenham).  The blustery wind (I’m certain we flashed quite a number of the townsfolk).  The giggles (I always ALWAYS have fun with mah boo but sometimes I get so caught up in documenting our time together that I forget to be truly present) (this time, however, I put my phone away).

My hope in sharing this story with you is to inspire you to sift through life, work, business, to identify what society would deem as the mundane, and then I challenge you to shift your perception of these ordinary acts.  Change your perception and change this “ordinary” activity into an “extraordinary” experience.

One that you will remember cherish for the rest of your life.

They don’t have to be complicated, or arduous.

Like reading a book out loud (Eve and I used to do this all the time, changing our voices and enacting roles, I need to start this again), or watching a music video together (we love you, Adam Lambert) (or TV show, we adore Once Upon A Time and Say Yes To The Dress).  Singing (or rather she sang, I cackled).  Car rides (we’d just drive around the neighbourhood with music blasting, or not, fly over the road bumps for the fun of it, and laugh hysterically).

Just simple things.

A final parting thought.

Imagine the freedom you will experience once you are able to shift those perceptions, and see the world through different tinted lenses.  Imagine how fulfilled your soul would be.

And I leave you with these words, “Extraordinary magic is woven through ordinary life. Look around!

Yes, look around indeed.

 

Love, Sheela

I link up here.

The Fab 40s Enter An Apocalyptic Age

When it’s the end of the world,

Would you fight or would you flee?

 

So when one thinks of the word, “Apocalypse“, images of destruction and bloody battles often come to mind.  Is it little wonder then that many of us, myself included, regularly miss that part wherein an apocalypse is also a revelation?  A discovery, and typically, of knowledge?  A vision of heavenly secrets which aims to make sense of earthly circumstances?

For the purposes of this blog post though, I would hazard a safe bet that Shelbee meant for apocalypse to be a revelation about the end of the world.

Doomsday, I’m guessing you could call it.

G O O D    V S    E V I L

A major confrontation between light and dark, destined to change the course of history.

Depending on which belief system you subscribe to, some anticipate that post the apocalypse, the world will be shattered into particles and cease to exist while others predict that a brand new one will resurface anew and fertile.

Whether you think the collapse of civilisation as we know it is imminent or not, the concept of rebirth and regeneration is a very real one, and applies to all of us.  Albeit the vast majority of us tend to leave this chrysalis process to the very last day of the year (read: me, always).  That isn’t to say that new year resolutions (as they tend to be named) are bad, they just seem so finite.  And life isn’t about that.  Life isn’t static.  Or stagnant.

Life is an improv show 24/7/365.

U N S C R I P T E D    A N D    S P O N T A N E O U S

Back to the topic of apocalypses and rebirths.

Tied in together, the two.  In order for one to exist, the other must occur.

So the way I look at it, this Apocalyptic Age?  It’s vital.  Whether we take it literally (please don’t) or figuratively, it’s absolutely vital to our evolution (I hate to use this word but it is legitimately the perfect one for the situation).  Our growth.  Our advancement as humans in the world as it currently stands.

And because of that, when Armageddon arrives, and the world enters into an apocalypse (which we could, technically, associate with today, the last day of the year), I intend to stay right where I am.  Physically and emotionally and mentally and spiritually.

Because this place?  This is where I am meant to be.

It may be scary.  Boring.  Exciting.  It may even be heartbreaking but it’s exactly the right place for me at this point in my life.  Apocalypse notwithstanding.  I’ll ignore that instinctive first response to fight and claw my way out with everything in me.  And also pay no heed to the follow-up reaction to flee, flee, flee.  Ha.  Those last two lines rhymed.

I intend to sit still.

I intend to let go.

I intend to experience it.

I intend to be me.

I also intend to have my Fab 40s Squad with me because we’d kick some serious butt.

I was reflecting upon how our relationship has grown (Jennie is an original founding member of the group, whilst Daenel is our latest fierce femme, and I respect them all equally and dearly for the most different of reasons) and how this group has been one of my constants over the last few years.

Should an apocalypse descend upon us, I’d like to think that we’d band together to weather it, and survive it.  Hell, we’d even scrummage through trash and pick wild berries (or mushrooms) for sustenance.

And amidst all this, I feel that we’d be the badass version of Spice Girls, to be honest.  I know, I know, those five Brit lasses have absolutely nothing to do with the end of the world BUT they are the embodiment of girl power.  And a message of empowerment emphasising the importance of strong and loyal friendship among females.  Fits perfectly, with or without the coming of doomsday.

We’re all so distinctly different, and we completely own it that difference.

If you needed more proof, here’s how we decided to dress up for when the Apocalyptic Age strikes.

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Shelbee is Sporty Spice in my books.  Feisty and gungho and ready to take on the world, be it one bullet at a time or, this is probably far more apt, one word at a time, being the gifted writer that she is.  I absolutely adore her outfit and would SO wear it on a regular basis.  I really would.  Just sans the rifle.

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

It may seem expected that I would think of Daenel as being Scary Spice but here’s why.  Daenel is a librarian and I’ve ALWAYS believed that true power lies neither in brute strength nor weaponry but in knowledge.  And that can only be gleaned from books (sorry, Wikipedia).  Hence Scary Spice because she’d be the wisest and smartest of us all.

Suzy, Suzy Turner

Suzy. Girl, you be spicy!!  You be Ginger Spice today.  With your sassy outfit and don’t-fuck-with-me-attitude and that killer axe.  Nuff said

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

Jennie is undoubtedly Baby Spice.  Equally prepared with hugs as well as first aid kit, packed food and bottled water.  Plus she has this amazing quality to see (and appreciate)  the world with childlike wonder.  Plus I love your jacket, I was just commenting to Eve the other day that I don’t own a camo jacket.  Like how could it possibly be??

This month, we have Chrissy from Granola and Grace.  Such a lovely, lovely lady.  Isn’t it wonderful to see that while all our renditions of an apocalyptic outfit are vastly different, we all went with the same colour palette?  Just goes to show how we’re really aren’t all that disparate after all, doesn’t it?  Back to Chrissy, I adore that fuzzy green vest she’s got on.  It reminds me, simultaneously, of Snuffleupagus, the Swamp Creature, and a damn good camouflage for when hiding out in the woods, trying to stay alive.  I rather think she’s Posh Spice.

Processed with VSCO with c1 preset

And then there’s me.

Doing my best rendition of Auntie Entity of Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome played by the one and only Tina Turner.  It was such a cold day for the shoot, and I was freezing my ass off in those bikini bottoms but hey, the photos turned out perfectly plus a fog was considerate enough to show up during the shoot.  Which Spice Girl am I?  Well, I’ll be Simon Fuller, the manager, but of course GRIN

Industrial Top (Lumme Designs) | Black Coat (Thrifted) | Bikini Bottom (Calzedonia) | Leather Knee High Boots (I forget) | Rings (Poshmark) | Weapons (scavenged on site)

Which of us would you be more like, friend?  Or would you be a new Spice Girl altogether?

Until Friday, friends, be well.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

Ho(e)! Ho(e)! Ho(e), Yo!!!

It’s a jolly, holly time.

With Christmas around the corner.

 

I’ll make this short but to the point.

I. Love. Christmas.

I really really REALLY do.

Especially growing up in Asia, my idea of Christmas was snow (but, of course), fireplace with flames a-crackling, being bundled up in scarves and beanies (with pom poms, no less), hot cocoa and eggnog, sleighs, reindeer, and jolly ole Saint Nick.  The reality was a smidge different.  No snow.  No logs burning or thick Winter clothing, and most definitely no posse of Santa’s helpers.  Still, the absence of those things did nothing to detract from Christmas being one of the most beautiful recollections of my childhood.  We didn’t have much, that’s for sure, but my parents worked so hard to give us incredible memories, and that’s what has stayed in me throughout all these years.

That Christmas is truly so much more than presents.

Or lush landscapes of picture perfect snow.

Whilst my heart may go pitter patter pitter patter whenever I hear the sound of bells jingling (is that you, Santa?).  Or skip a few beats should unwrapping a box reveal something along the lines of, oh I don’t know, a new messenger bag from perhaps (cough) Prada.  And yes, I’ll readily admit, I wouldn’t turn down a massage.  Or three.

None of these things create memories.

Or truly defines what I seek during Christmas time.

And all year long.

You probably crave the same thing.

A treasure that can neither be measured nor held.  Something far more precious than silver, far more splendid than gold.

Have you guessed it yet?

Hope.

The most prized treasure of all.

The greatest of all gifts.

Hope for many things.

For courage to look fear in the eye, and live the fullest life I possibly can.  For only the bestest, most wonderful of supernova adventures to head Eve’s way.  For joy and positivity to surround the people I love, enveloping them in the tightest and warmest of hugs.  For patience and empathy to continue thriving in those beautiful souls I call friends, especially when dealing with me (we know how difficult I can be).  Okay, so that last one is a hope for everyone who knows me, and has to cross paths with me in one way or another.

Hope is the thread which binds all of us together.

Keeps us sane.  Fills our hearts with the desire to keep going.  Calms the mind when it wants to throw in the towel and allow the darkness to take over.  Folly or fact, it springs eternal.  And it is the very greatest of the gifts we’ll ever be blessed to receive.  And give.

For today’s post, I am so thankful that I never gave up hope on being happy.  On being loved.  It has allowed me to feel so free and liberated in loving back.  Be it the unconditional, implicit love I have for my (miracle) child, Eve (she is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, conceived against all odds, and I love her with every fibre of my being).  Or the man who has brought copious amounts of joy and laughter and happiness into my life in such a short amount of time, Michael (who continues to show me with every passing day that age isn’t a barrier for anything, not just style).  Or the friends who light up my screen (it’s the digital age, after all), embracing me with their warmth and authenticity (I’m talking about Jodie and Rob, and Shelbee, and Catherine, and all my Fab 40 ladies), making me feel that I am never ever alone.

On that note, could it be any more appropriate that we (Eve, Michael, Jodie and I) are doing a Santa-inspired outfit collaboration today?  I can’t imagine being in better company for this theme, for this time of the year.  Please have a look.

Eve 

Look at mah boo go.  Strutting her elf stuff.

Michael

He makes Santa look dope.

Jodie

Love the plethora of print and texure in this outfit.

Nancy

Sooooo cute.

Charlotte

That’s Queen Santarina to you.

And there’s me.  And us.

Fancy Santa.  And Santa’s elves.

How would you do red, white and black?

 

Love, Sheela

I link up here.

Am I Really A Blogger If I Wear Sweatpants All The Time?

Yes, am I?

Begs the question, eh?

 

There used to be a time when I would get dressed up every day.  Perhaps less of dressed to the nines, and more of dressed for work at the PR agency where I led a 7-member team.  So yes, I’d wake up by 6am.  Feed Eve (told you it was a while ago), make sure she had everything ready and the maid was duly briefed on what to cook for the day.  Shower, curl my hair, apply some make-up (which, at the time, was blusher, blue eyeliner as well as blue mascara, and pink lipstick, cringe).  Try on one outfit.  Take it off.  Try on yet another.  Still not right, pull on something else.

Arrrgh!

Nothing worked, and by now, there are piles of clothes strewn all over the floor. A frantic glance at my cellphone tells me it’s past 8:30, I’m still traipsing around in my undies, and if I don’t get dressed right that moment, I’m going to be royally late for work.  To provide perspective, back then, I was working in Singapore and commuting was hell.  Public transport hell, that is.  Some people used the MRT, some (fortunate few) drove (cars cost about the same as a house there) yet some others, like me, cabbed it.  What that means is a 20-minute drive would evolve into approximately an hour’s journey, from calling for a taxi to waiting for said taxi, to ploughing through vehicle after vehicle on the highways, to finally reaching my destination.  All the while desperately praying I made it there before my (arse of a) boss, but that’s a tale for another time.

These days, I am up anywhere between 6am to 7.30am, depending on what the day looks like in terms of meetings/conference calls and deadlines.  Typically, I’ll come downstairs for a coffee (it’s true, you know, what they say when they proclaim, “but first coffee”), check my emails and respond to the urgent ones.  Then I take a shower, brush my teeth, and apply my skincare (perhaps it ought to be, “but first the face”?).  I continue working, still in my sweatpants (the ones I slept in), until around 1pm when (if I remember), I stop for lunch and another shower (I’m one of those people who shower around three times a day, to be honest).  Afterwards, I might put on a cleaner pair of sweatpants (and they’ll be the ones I’ll go to sleep in that night), and essentially that’s my sartorial schedule when I’m working from home.

Blessedly, the style blogger whose daily uniform is comprised of comfy tee with comfier sweatpants, when they’re not posting outfit shots, is nothing new. It’s a line I’ve heard pour forth from many a fashion blogger, admitting that when it’s a no-need-to-meet-anyone-sort-of-day, it’s more than likely that sweats would be de rigueur as they work long hours, in a semi-disheveled state.

Yet, you wouldn’t know it, would you, since everything looks immaculate, all the time, on their blogs and social media.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s quite fabulous, playing dress up and adopting all sorts of different characters as well as personas each time I put on an outfit (that isn’t sweatpants, of course). It really is great, and offers me a means of escapism from my messy, unmade bed and even messier bedroom floor (yes, still strewn with clothes but this time, it’s because I recently moved so shush).  But it does make me wonder how much of my life can I really share as a style blogger since I’m in sweatpants whenever the camera’s no longer snapping away.  It’s rather like the “turning into a pumpkin” effect, I feel.

That after a certain time, I revert back to normal boring.  And am no longer interesting.  Could it be I’m overthinking things?  That people do want real life me?  Or perhaps we’re all so jaded and disenchanted with things happening around us that we crave escapisms, even if for only a little bit?

Or maybe, just maybe, everyone, everywhere is simply tired of agonising over what to wear all the time.  After all, the pendulum swings both ways.  We’ve all seen how, after years of the fashion industry trying to top itself in ridiculousness, or as Suzy Menkes noted, the Circus of Fashion where she complained that people wore crazy clothes to fashion shows in hopes of getting internet famous. Because you know, once you’re internet famous, your life is complete.

Or perhaps, fancy sweatpants are now a staple for fashionistas everywhere?  I don’t know, I don’t know.  Even writing that sentence makes me feel blasphemous.  Akin to committing a sartorial act of high treason.  I am very serious.

I feel as strongly about wearing sweatpants out as I do seeing people walking around with the word J U I C Y on their bums.  Like why (wait, is this something you guys would like to talk debate in a different post, as in why on earth would anyone want to wear something with the word JUICY spread across their asses??).

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make about sweatpants is that when fashion trends take a turn for the understated, what then happens to the conversation?  Does the conversation quiet down too? Do people move on to talk about other things because talking about how this pair of sweatpants is cool, but those pair of sweatpants are terrible, really does sound ridiculous?  Or, on the flipside of things, do we all suddenly remember how much more to life there is than looking good, even while wearing sweatpants?

Discuss.

And onward to something decidedly much more fun than my prose.  Today, I am immensely pleased to be a part of the Ageless Style Link-Up, an activity bringing together the loveliest of ladies every first Tuesday of the month.  There’s Daenel, Debbie, Jennie, Jodie, Janet, Kellyann, Lisa, Paula and Shelly.  Truth be told, I’ve legit been dying to be invited as a guest host ever since this party began and when Debbie (finally) emailed inviting me for December, I squeaked and I squealed and I jumped up and down!!!  So here I am, all clad in the month’s theme of Festive Outerwear, and absolutely over the moon to be a part of Ageless Style.

 

Don’t forget to join in the link-up, ok?  The party only begins when you’re here.  By the by, you may be asking why I’ve gone on about sweatpants, and yet chosen to not wear sweatpants in these photos.  It’s to keep you guessing, obviously GRIN plus I’m not quite cool enough to pull off sweatpants as festive wear so I chose to give that one a wide berth.

Come back Monday, friends, but until then, I’m out.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

The Fab 40s Say Yeehaw, Y’All

Influencing the Influencer.

What does that even mean?

 

Today, I want to talk about who influences the influencers.

And if those influences we’re letting in are positive.

Or not.

Such a fabulously fascinating topic.  Here we are, going on about how much we care for our readers (some of whom we call friends) and, consequently, the due diligence we conduct upon every product and service showcased on our social media platforms.  And yet we ourselves often neglect to housekeep what (or who) influences us in turn.

A U D I T    W H O    A N D    W H A T    S P E A K S    T O    U S

What we allow into our ears.  Into our minds and hearts and spirits.  Choosing who (or what) has the authority to capture our attention and affect it.  Being selective about the people or the things which have the power to make us feel relevant.

Of course, the fact that many most of us are surrounded by social media and the powerful imagery it serves up continuously incessantly only serves to increase the number of potential influences we are exposed to at any given time.  Visuals depicting seemingly perfect lives and seemingly perfect situations.  Add to that our typical state of mind when viewing said images, and it isn’t difficult to connect the dots.  Sometimes we feel inspired to forge forwards when we see them.  Most times, however, it’s quite the opposite, yes?

We exercise so much caution when it comes to our followers because we genuinely feel responsible to only share what we personally believe to work, to be efficient, to be apropos.  How is it then that when it comes to looking inwardly, we are very often unable to apply that same methodology?

Think about it for a second.

That very same filter we apply to brands who approach us should must be applied also onto whatever and whomever has the privilege to speak to our intellect and our emotions and our consciousness.  The way we treat our followers, our friends, must be the same way we treat ourselves when it comes to deciding who or what gets to influence how we think, act, and articulate.

F I L T E R    T H E    I N P U T    T O O

Then there’s people and events that touch us in real life.

Personally, my first hurdle is that I often find it hard to even recognise a negative influence.  Call me naive, call me gullible but it’s always been a challenge for me to realise when someone (or something) is proving to be toxic.  Or perhaps it’s my subconscious mind justifying their actions by giving different names/phrases such as “he didn’t mean  it“, “emergency“, “needs me“.

These days, thanks in part to therapy and in part to healthy doses of daily podcasts as well as inspirational literature, with generous helpings of mindset changing thrown into the mix, I’ve become a little smarter in dealing.

These days I feel more capable of identifying when someone (or something) is not good for me.

Whether it’s because I feel as though I’ve outgrown them (which is not a bad thing, despite my initial thoughts on the matter) and am no longer on the same mental wavelength.  And as such, the happy conversations have been replaced with uncomfortable silences or bouts of verbal sparring.

Or whether I feel a sense of guilt when I’m with them.  That I come away so drained afterwards I need therapy just to be a semblance of myself again.  That I’d much rather be elsewhere.  Talking to someone else, or doing something else.

I’ve learned to listen to myself a whole lot more.

If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.

Those aren’t, by any means, all of the signs to be aware of.  Consider those also who set you back on your goals, or derail your goals in how you revert back to old patterns when you’re around them, be it something as rudimentary as dietary changes or far more self-destructive habits.

Or instead of being uplifting and motivating, your time in that particular environment or with a specific person (or persons) ends up being a dream (and soul) crushing session.  Leaving you with more doubt and insecurities than ever before.  And since we’re humans, it’s not quite as simple as hitting the delete button to erase all those negative feelings that are quite likely drowning us.

These days, my general rule of thumb is that if a person, or a thing or circumstance, leaves me feeling uncertain or troubled, then it’s not the right for me.  And I choose to not invest my mind and my energy there.

Only positive influence(r)s need apply, I say.

Working hand in hand with my psychiatrist (yes, I have weekly therapy sessions and it’s been such a weight lifted off of me, to be able to verbalise my thoughts to someone who isn’t in my inner circle, to listen and offer an opinion and poke holes into my theories) and my business coach (he’s more of a life coach whose opened my eyes to understanding how work is merely a tool to bring about happiness, and it isn’t to be mistaken for or equated with happiness itself), I’ve managed to create an action plan of sorts to cleanse my life.

Naturally this isn’t a finite plan by any means.  It will evolve with me, and my life, but for now, it’s working really well and I am happier than I’ve ever been.

One of the steps is to surround myself with places and people that love and uplift me.  Sounds so basic, doesn’t it?  Yet it isn’t always that simple to accomplish.  Why?  Well because what might work initially may no longer work with time.  People change.  We change.  And not everyone changes at the same pace, and we need to ascertain how much of that is acceptable for us, how much isn’t, and if we’re willing to compromise.  The point is to view change as the one constant in our lives, and to embrace it because we really can’t do anything to stop it.

I’m so blessed that one of my constants in the past few years has been The Fab 40s ladies.  Since we began in March 2015, some have come and gone (and are very much missed, I’m talking about you, Dawn Lucy, and Annie, and Jane, and Sam) but it’s all part of change being the one thing we can rely on to happen with predictability, isn’t it?

I adore each and single one of you, and I am grateful for your constant presence in my life.  I am truly grateful.  You may not realise it but all of you have influenced me in some way or another, be it from three years ago, or from three weeks ago.  I have picked up something positive from each of you, and it has helped me grow, and move away from the shadow, and become brave.  Thank you for being you.

Enough of sappy Sheela, you say, and I hear you.  Without further ado, please see how we each responded to Jennie’s (insane, shhh!!) theme of Western Wear for this month of November.  It was SUCH a trial for me.

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

Jennie | A Pocketful of Polka Dots

I have only one word – LOVE.  Everything from those Laura Ingalls petticoats (why didn’t I think of that??) to her fabulously burnished leather boots and that sassy pose.  Killed it.  Nailed it.  Hit it out of the park.  All that and more, Jennie.

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Does Shelbee not remind you of Pocahontas this month?  I know, I know, but hey there are extensive Native American influences on western apparel, and vice versa, and I say she’s quite on the mark here.  The colours.  Those prints.  Her boots, and turquoise necklace (OMG).

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

Daenel | Living Outside The Stacks

How does this woman look goth even when donning a pair of blue jeans and boots?  With bandana in her hair?  Next to Jennie’s, this is my fave for the month.  It embodies everything Western, in my eyes, without being too much.

Suzy, Suzy Turner

Suzy | Suzy Turner

Is there such a thing as uptown country girl?  If so, Suzy fits the bill here, beautifully and most eloquently.  Everything here is so universally flattering, and versatile.  I am particularly attracted to those subtle Western details seen in the belt buckle (drool) as well as big ass ring.

This month, we have an international guest woot woot!!  Please say hello to Dee of Dee Sayz from India.  Thank you so very much for being a part of our little style rendezvous this month, Dee, I’m a big fan of how you adapt and adopt seasonal trends into your wardrobe.  These colours and textures you’ve put together here in this Western-inspired outfit of yours are nothing short of absolutely beautiful, like a desert sunset.

Dee | Dee Sayz

And then there’s me.

Doing my best rendition of Annie Oakley, complete with a wild west backdrop aka Schulenburg.  Whilst there were no exciting gunfights between daring outlaws and the courageous lawmen during the course of my photo shoot, the town proved to be a perfect foil for this theme.

Fringe Denim Jacket, Camouflage Boots & Suede Choker (Poshmark) | Chambray Playsuit (Goodwill) | Turquoise Necklace (c/o Ettika) | Utility Belt (Salvation Army) | Bracelets (Isabel Marant) | Suede & Leather Hat (purchased in Australia)

At the end of the day, we all recognise that toxins aren’t just found in air pollution or poor nutritional choices.  We acknowledge that in order for us to truly acquire that wondrous, oh so desired sense of relief, and clarity, and to glow, we must examine every single aspect of our lives.  We must dissect what is toxic specifically to us, and cleanse what doesn’t work.

And that’s all these is, there isn’t anymore.

Until Wednesday, friends, be well.

 

Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.

The Fab 40s Go Goth

Aka the “It’s Not You, It’s Me” post. 

Once upon a time in Houston, Sheela got pissed with WordPress.  And the damn phone because it kept dinging with alerts.  Merrily.  Repeatedly.  All the damn time.  Driving her up the (proverbial) wall.

And that isn’t even the crux of today’s post. 

Just a wee digression of aggression. 

I love a good pun, I love a bad one even more GRIN hello my friends, thank you for stopping by today.  I’m going off on a new look and feel (or rather, approach) to blogging.  It’s subtle though so I am wondering if you see it.



This time last week, I was at FierceCon2018. Catherine’s baby.  A haven wherein women (and a few men) congregated to share and motivate.  To connect.  Inspire and be inspired.  To find a sister.  Or tribe.  Both.

Give me a little time to gather my thoughts, and I will tell you ALL about it.  What I was privileged to hear.  The stories told by truly brave souls.  Things I’ve become aware of ever since.  Things I’ve learned about myself and the people around me.  Understanding how they’ve touched me, and being better able to discern if their presence in my life is positive. Or not.

Mostly discovering, or should I say, being reminded (albeit with a gentle kick in the ass) that everyone has been through their own private hell. Everyone has had some sort of battle to fight.  We all have someone we have to forgive.  Someone we’d never ever want to see ever again (perhaps even have fashioned a voodoo doll in their likeness, like, cough, I used to do).  And that absolutely nothing is what it seems to be.  Absolutely nothing is as picture perfect as it appears.



I know this isn’t new news at all.  But, you see, most (if not all) of us frequently lose sight of these sort of observations as we plod along.  Managing.  Settling.  Existing.  Therefore, when those brilliant flashes of the obvious hit us like so, it’s quite the necessary thump between the eyes.

A “Hello!!  Wake up already!!” thump.

You’re not alone.

You’re not unique in your pain.

You’re not alone.

You can find solace.

YOU. ARE. NOT. ALONE.



And why is today’s post entitled thus?  Because while everyone was raving on about how they were loving the energy and vibe, I was standing in my corner (with my babe who was, thankfully, there to keep this very socially awkward woman company) wondering what they were talking about.  Like WTF is this “energy” you’re talking about?  I don’t feel any energy.  I just see loads of people, and hear a lot of noise, and my feet hurt from these 5″ heels.

It made me acutely aware that, in truth, it doesn’t matter where you are.  What event you’re at.  Or motivational workshop you’re attending.  If you’re not consciously opening yourself up to receiving, you’re just wasting your time.  And everyone else’s, for that matter.  That’s when I realised that it wasn’t them, it was me.  It’d been me all along.  I was my own barrier.

You must be open to lowering your walls.  Bringing those shields down.  And be ready to absorb.  Take in as much as you can.  Whether you call it energy or positivity, you need to consciously decide to open the door, and let it in.  I choose to call mine LIGHT and this time, at FierceCon2018, I chose to let LIGHT in. 



And I am continuing to choose to let LIGHT in.

Now to The Fab 40s.

From the oh so fabulous throwback to the 90s to a slightly more goth-gone-to-work approach, take a look at our individual renditions of this month’s theme.  Goth.

Go on.  Scroll down.

Tell me what you think.

Suzy, Pixie Chick In Portugal

Dungarees for Goth.  That’s not something you hear very often.  And certainly not what I was expecting to see when Suzy sent over her photo (she picked the theme for this month, by the by) but bowled over I certainly was.  She looks beyond amazing.  A little Goth.  A little punk. A whole lotta rock n roll awesomeness all rolled into one incredibly cool lady.

Jennie, A Pocketful Of Polka Dots

I thought I was doing grown-up goth but Jennie has got me beat.  In spades.  Hands down.  Look at her.  Everything she’s wearing screams (elegantly) of poise and sensuality while hinting at her dark, mysterious if somewhat dangerous side that comes out to play every now and again.  During the month of October.  Or whenever someone picks Goth as the theme.

Shelbee, Shelbee On The Edge

Shelbee is true blue classic Goth today.  And while I do not share her fervour for Robert Smith (I was more into the punk goth/rock genre a la Morten Harket whom, incidentally, I was supposed to marry when I grew up but he missed that memo), I can certainly vocalise how much I adore her outfit especially how gentrified it is with the coat.  And that belt, oh my heart!!!

Daenel, Living Outside The Stacks

Even before reading Daenel’s cover email, my mind immediately thought of Wednesday Adams when I saw her outfit.  HOW FREAKING COOL IS SHE????  What a positively explosive way to kickstart your stint with The Fab 40s.  Essentially, you captured the essence of this month’s theme without even trying to, and that is golden.  Welcome to the fray, woman.

Mary, Curly Byrdie Chirps

One of the things I admire most about Mary is that regardless of what the month’s theme is, she always ALWAYS delivered an outfit that was infinitely Mary.  Feminine.  A touch of prep.  And very much body-flattering.  She knows how to work her curves and does it so even in a look that isn’t stereotypically Goth.  You go, girl!!  Slay, slay and slay some more.

Now comes one of the bestest bits of this collaboration between friends in their 40s, introducing a new guest blogger for the month.  Today, I am so delighted to present Lizzie of What Lizzie Loves

I’ve known of this lady for a long time now, and I was very excited to see how she would style Goth because if you take a look at her feed, Lizzie’s style couldn’t be the furthest being conspicuously dark, punk and sometimes morbid.  Consequently, when I saw her outfit, it instantly became #1 for me.  My fave.  The prettiness of Lizzie’s dress stays so close to her own aesthetics whilst the colour and the print (albeit done in a feminine fashion) only serve to affirm how spot on the overall outfit is.  Both in terms of being true to Lizzie as well as being in line with the theme for October. Brilliant, Lizzie, just brilliant.  So happy to have you with us.

Look at that.  Lizzie does Goth.  And fantabulously too.

And then there’s me.

In a genius of a pose, dreamt up by Michael.

Boo.  I see you.
Do you see me too?

Plaid Dress (thrifted ) | Swiss Dot Lace Top (Forever21) | Choker (ManicPanic NYC) | Boots (Make Me Chic) | Sunnies (Chanel) | Cuff (Loewe) | Maleficient & Crow Rings (my heart)

That’s it, friends.  I wonder what’s in store for next month.  Wait, whose turn is it for November again?


Love, Sheela

p/s I link up here.