It’s been said that September is the thinking woman’s January. This was probably said by Vogue, encouraging women to up their style game and buy products from the brands that they advertise. Nevertheless, I’m going to run with this idea. Because it’s September. And I’m undergoing a personal transformation.
Maybe we all do this continuously. We transform incrementally, working towards goals and accomplishing them only to move on to other tasks. The efforts might not be concerted in a particular direction, especially if we’re in a job we don’t like or derailed by a state of emergency. The difference this time is that I want to guide this growth so I end up in a new place.
I expect the changes to take many forms: my appearance, spirituality, exercise, culinary accomplishments and, perhaps most importantly, my writing. I’m going to focus on one thing at a time, so I can really give it my proper attention and, thus, take a solid step forward. Also, I can’t include everything in this list. There’s also familial love to cultivate, but I feel as if I can’t plan that; it needs to grow organically. Also, if I write down that I’m planning on adopting a dog, I can no longer pretend to my husband that a stray just happened to walk onto our property and stay. But I digress.
My appearance has been of some concern to me for a while. It is also what I’m going to be focusing on at the moment, as it is rather distracting for me to feel as though I don’t look my best. Our current locale is not overly conducive to feeling glamorous, though I do live in London (albeit a rougher area). I regularly see girls out in onesies and the local grocery is populated by people in their jim-jams. London may be a fashion capital, but the news has not reached my neighbourhood. This is not inherently bad, but I don’t want to be like that. I want to look like the best version of myself, and even the most glam onesie is not going to get me there.
So the clothes are a priority. I like a boho aesthetic, though I’ve previously lacked the confidence to pair up such outfits. Worse, I rarely make time to do so: I work from home, and my only regular outings are for dog walking. It’s been my choice to let my sartorial game slip, but now I want to work at it again. Not because I feel like less of a woman when wearing my husband’s jumpers…I just feel less like me.
My hair, too, is something I want to change. Currently just below shoulder length and in my natural colour, I find myself hankering for the copper locks I had a few years ago. But dye comes in single-use plastic, and I can’t justify using it just so my hair can be a different colour. Therefore, I’ll have to find some new ways to style it, and maybe a new haircut. Besides, it’s in better condition than it ever was when I was dyeing it. Surely that counts for something.
Lastly, my makeup techniques haven’t been updated in around eight years. My skincare is consistent but basic, but as I get a little bit older, I feel that both need an upgrade. It’s good timing, too, because my bottle of argan oil is nearly empty. So, as things run out, I’ll be replacing them with carefully-researched products that suit my ethics*.
So, there we have it. The official start of my personal transformation. I’ll be working to appear on the outside as I feel on the inside, and hopefully improve both.
*What a metaphorical minefield.