All posts filed under: the fab 40s

Sheela | Sheela Writes, I Have Things To Say

The Fab 40s Shirt Up

Sprucing up the shirtdress. Making it fancy, schmancy, but still wearable.   I struggled with this month’s theme, shirtdresses.  I truly did, Dee.  Can’t lie.  And I don’t even know why that was so because I used to wear them.  All the time.  Perhaps the operative words, “used to” were a telling means to explain my conundrum.  Conversely, my mental block made no sense whatsoever given (1) the frequency with which shirtdresses had permeated my wardrobe in the past; and (2) their undeniable mega “slay” factor. In my 20s, I practically lived in shirtdresses all the work week long.  Mostly in jersey so I didn’t have to iron them and mainly in blacks or browns.  Yes, I spent over three decades decked out primarily in black, channeling Mama Rei and bringing out The Crow in me.  As such, one would think I would’ve had an easy peasy time pulling together a look based on a button-down garment but that was not the case, my friends. T I M E T O S H I R …

The Fab 40s & Our Soles

Give a woman the right pair of heels. Then sit back, and watch her conquer the world.   Amen, sista. I never thought I’d ever credit something so insightful to Ms Monroe GRIN insightful and evergreen with a dose of such unexpected humour. But it’s so true, yes? The perfect shoe design equipped with an equally perfect heel height makes for taking the most empowered of strides, figuratively as well as metaphorically.  As Michael always tells me, I am my sexiest when I’m feeling comfortable.  After all, comfort begets confidence, and confidence is the consequent vessel to sire a sense of power, a sense of empowerment.  A sense of f*ck you, self doubt, not today. T H E P O W E R O F A G O O D S H O E I’ll be the first to admit to being somewhat obsessed with shoes, I mean, I think the whole world knows that by now so it truly doesn’t behoove the situation for me to even pretend that 99% of my outfits are …

The Fab 40s & Our Style Icons

Our muses. Sources of sartorial inspiration.   It’s my birthday today. The last time I’d written something on the blog on my birthday was three years ago, in 2016.  When I was talking about the wearability of animal prints and how we should all embrace its highly visual power with open arms.  What a tizzy the past few years have been, to say the least, but we’re not focusing on that today.  No, my friend, today, in honour of my birthday, I’m going to talk about the one person who has played such a vital part in not only igniting my love for clothes but who has also wielded such influence over how I look at style and fashion. Denise Huxtable. I’ll readily (and ever so happily) admit that I’ve had a ginormous fashion crush on Denise Huxtable since the sitcom I’d rather not name first aired in 1984.  The second eldest child who was free-spirited and rebellious with an eccentric sense of style which, I feel, can be best defined as wholly committed. Whether …

The Fab 40s Put On Plaid

It’s not just black and white. It’s practically everything in between.   I don’t recall what led to it precisely but the other day, someone asked whether I viewed the world in black and white.  What an immensely interesting question.  Particularly given the timing, and current state of things.  Without rehashing what’s been playing out in my life of late (you can read about it here and here), it’s safe to say that change has been dominating the scene.  Rather like a zephyr sweeping across the horizon, creating patterns in the landscape, swiftly moving from side to side, and everything in between. And that is why my response was that I’ve gone from viewing the world in greyscale (with certain moments in subtle shades, like a two-colour process) to now experiencing everything in full technicolour wonder. I T’ S E X H I L A R A T I N G And it’s been in the simplest of things too. Consuming garlic, for one.  Or working out at the oddest of hours whether it’s because …

The Fab 40s Are All Laced-Up

Racy, lacy, dicey. Hey, that even rhymed.   As a few of you already know, a new chapter in my life has begun. Some time ago, I ended my 16 year relationship with Pierluigi.  There was no infidelity.  No, nothing of the sort.  I walked away after almost two decades together because I had lost myself.  I had spent so much time being mother, wife, colleague that Sheela had completely disappeared.  I had no purpose.  I felt absorbed.  Missing.  Lacking.  Gone. I H A D B E C O M E I N V I S I B L E Lest anyone casts that first stone, let me preface it by saying that I have absolutely no regrets in taking on those three roles.  I love Eve more than life itself, and I wanted to be the sort of parent who was always there.  Always present in as many ways as possible.  Her needs came before mine, and they always will. Being a wife to Pierluigi was an all-consuming affair, and I was alright with …

The Fab 40s In Their Cutoffs

Oh yes, we absolutely can. Wear shorts, that is.   I begin my post with a sense of utter outrage. In the process of conducting due diligence and research to write this, I came across multitudes of so-called style experts dishing out the most ridiculous of counsel to women on whether cutoffs (or the entire spectrum of shorts, for that matter) were age-appropriate. If it weren’t for the fact that I’d just taken my Bystolic (and that I’m physically drained from a very exhausting weekend of work + play, with the last vestiges of jet lag thrown in for good measure), I suspect I’d have suffered a fit right then and there.  Or, at the very least, hurled verbal abuses at said culprits vis-à-vis the sanctity of my home office which would, in truth, serve no higher purpose save to leave me with the cringey task of wiping smatterings of spit from my laptop screen. O U T R A G E D , I T E L L Y O U First of all, …

The Fab 40s Make A Statement

Creating an impression. One that hits home.   I doubt I’d be distorting facts when I put forth that we’ve all done something to send a message at least once in our lives, if not countless times. Making a statement could be as rudimentary as wearing black lipstick to rebel against the powers that be, or something far more significant, more meaningful such as taking a stand against Trump.  Joining the #MeToo movement.  Going public with your sexual orientation.  Articulating an opinion about a topic near and dear to you.  Participating in a rally. In one way or another, we all make statements.  And, naturally, the way we dress is perhaps the most eloquent, versatile and personal weapon in our arsenal to send a message.  Fashion has the innate ability to influence politics, culture, life, and that is not an exaggerated claim. F A S H I O N I S A W E A P O N We outfit ourselves to match our views and beliefs about anything and everything pertinent, be it consciously …

The Fab 40s & Their Fairy Tale Inspirations

Wonder. Awe. Magic. Stories of enchantment and spells.   As you all know, I love to write.  What you may not know is where that love stems from.  And that is the literary diet upon which I was raised.  It fed feeds my soul.  My mother introduced me to wordsmith Enid Blyton from the moment we could read.  And then further augmented the nourishment of my creative side with C S Lewis, Tolkien, Bronte, Eyre, Agatha Christie, you get the general idea.  Over the years, my library has expanded to include murder, crime and fantasy novels but I’ve never once deviated from my original love obsession with the beguiling and captivating world of fairy tales and wonderment and magic. O N C E U P O N A T I M E Those four words. Whenever I see them, read them, my heart does a little flutter. I slip away into my secret place, where castles go high into the sky. Where woods are dark and mysterious, and where the air is rife with enchantment …

The Fab 40s In Culottes

Culottes. Breeches. Gauchos. Jodhpurs. Whatchamacallits.   (I want to begin by extending a HUGE apology to my fellow fab 40 ladies, because this post is two days late, my blog was literally inaccessible since Sunday night because of technical issues, I couldn’t even get to the dashboard, and had to work with WordPress support via phone to resolve the problem, please forgive me ladies, please, this has NEVER happened before and I am so not a techie, it was really frustrating, but here we are, finally) Of late, I seem to be at a loss for words to say.  I’ve been staring at the screen since Thursday, and it’s already Sunday evening.  I’m not sure why that is.  I have the thoughts running through my mind but somewhere along the way, it would appear, they’re all jumbled up.  Like internet connectivity on a bad weather day, you know?  I don’t understand it though.  I don’t think I’ve ever been speechless. Or is it wordless, when it comes to writing? D O Y O U K …

The Fab 40s In Colours

A spectrum of refraction. An optical illusion of the best sort.   I’ll admit, I was stumped when I started writing this post.  What could I possibly talk about colours?  Save for the fact that they’re many and varied and evoke emotions in all?  And without sounding neither corny nor cliched?  I mean, there’s only that much one can wax lyrical over shade, hue, tone and tint. C H A L L E N G E D, I W A S But over the weekend, I attended my very first wedding on American soil (albeit it was a coming together of a Lebanese+Honduran female with an Italian+ Colombian male) and in the midst of oohing and aahing and gushing over how romantic and delicately passionate the chosen theme of creams, blushes and mint was, I thought perhaps I could share which colours triggered which emotions in me. Thus was the idea born. First up is the colour black.  It is of particular importance because of how it, simultaneously, symbolises confidence as well as a lack …