About this blog

This is a window into the weird world of Anglicanism, as experienced on a Cathedral Close. Has anything much happened since Trollope's Barchester Chronicles? You will still see the 'canon in residence' hurrying across to choral Evensong, robes flapping, as the late bell chimes. But look carefully and you will notice he is checking the football score on his iPhone as he runs. This is also a writer's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the novelist's life. And it's a fighter's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the judo mat. Well, the agony, anyway.

Friday 27 January 2012

DAYS 25-27

A quick catch up: over the last couple of days I have been getting dressed and not buying myself any new clothes.  There.  I see from my blog stats that most people would rather learn how to write crap dialogue than wade through my Lilliputian wardrobe dilemmas.  Well tough.  We're back to clothes.  

Today I set out as usual in my pre-outfit clothes (trackies, hoodie) with a view to going for a run.  Then I decided I didn't feel like running, so I got showered and dressed properly.  My inspiration today came from one of my oldest friends.  Oldest in the sense that we met at the age of 8. She is by no means my oldest friend age-wise--I believe that accolade must be bestowed on Bubbles, who in turn is by no means the oldest in terms of outlook on life.

This friend--I'll call her Gherkin-Sausage--was moved to email me yesterday to tell me what she was wearing.  I liked the sound of it.  She makes this very important point: 'Between the age of about 35 and 45 I convinced myself that the mature woman had to do things like decide on a palette that suited them. I thought browns and rust and khaki. I managed to stay within those shades pretty much for a decade. At the age of 45 I decided that the mature woman could do what she bloody well liked since nobody noticed her any more and returned to wearing as many colours as I could.'

One of the colourful things she was wearing yesterday was 'an emerald long sleeved T-shirt'.  Hah!  Good idea, I have one of those, I thought.  So I have built my outfit round it.  It's possible that my shirt is more jade than emerald, but I think we can safely say I am copying her.  Back when we were 8 this would have been grounds for bitter accusations and falling out, but now we are 50, we can take it as an hommage, can we not?  Or possibly a femmage?

So, a long sleeved jade T-shirt.  This has a bit of a bodycon vibe going on, and maybe it's supposed to be a dress?  The length (nearly covering the bum) suggests it might be the sort of thing a younger woman would wear with bare legs and a tan on a night out, if she wanted to feel empowered.  Not being young any more I'm inclined to think that the most empowering garment a woman can wear is a martial arts black belt. Obviously I haven't grasped the nuances of empowerment.  Here's a nice definition I came across recently of a humourless feminist: it's 'a woman who doesn't laugh when you say something that isn't funny'.

Being old, as I say, I've disavowed the bare tanned legs look and am back in my skinny jeans and black boots.  I'm also wearing that black knitted tunic from the other Close Catherine.  This has now made several appearances in this blog, and is on the way to becoming a favourite garment.  I stood in front of the mirror for quite a while wondering.  First I wondered whether I'd already worn and blogged this outfit.  Next I tried to work out who I reminded myself of.  Eventually I got it: Link.  Link from Zelda, Ocarina of Time.  If you have teenage sons, you will know what I mean.  For those who haven't here he is:

It's just a passing likeness, I admit.  But I hurried to add some chunky fake jade jewellery all the same.

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