We Have No Secrets

A week ago today, we had people over for drinks and finger food, which turned into dinner, thanks to our dear foodie friend Paul who was staying with us.
I remarked in my last post it was the first time I'd entertained a decent-sized crowd in five years.
Truth is, it was the first time in half a decade that I'd fed and watered any group other that my immediate family.
Why?
Because I was scared of falling off the wagon.
It will be five years on May 2 since I had a drink and I still haven't had a drop.
I've been blogging for four years and each year I make a point of giving myself a pat on the back here.
But don't congratulate me, I don't expect accolades.
Before that date in 2009, despite my ernest efforts, I'd slowly been making a big mess of myself and couldn't face a social occasion without getting hammered to some degree.
Three days later I was having my first stay in the loony bin.
The people I hurt the most were my children.  But they still seem to like me.
The words of #3 Son will always ring in my ears. 
I was making my daily late afternoon detour to the bottle shop for supplies and the wee chap (aged 7 at the time) piped up "Why are we ALWAYS coming here?"
I will be forever grateful for their forgiveness and for my dear husband, The Phoenix, for getting me through.

So, I've broken the spell, I'm not afraid to be within a metre of alcohol, I can entertain again and I've finally relinquished my self-imposed titles of party-pooper and social pariah.

If you can ignore the rant about The Onion, Emily has some interesting things to say about socialising without a drink in a piece published in xo Jane today, which reveals similar problems she faced when she decided on sobriety.

Yesterday I craved another poison: neon!
I couldn't get enough of it so as you can see, I piled it on, even my lipstick was a neon shade of red.

Earrings, sunnies and 1940s navy slip - Etsy

Green necklace - secondhand market

Yellow African necklace and bracelets, 1970s pendant and bangles - op shops

Pink spiked bracelet - gift from darling Vix

Slave bracelet - Phussy

Lipstick - Suedeberry by Lime Crime

Oh and remember my Frida lamp?
For those interested, it wasn't purchased from an op shop, anyone who gave that away would need their head read.
No, the lamp and hand painted cushion were from a wonderful local emporium called Creative Treasures which stocks locally-made crafts, clothing and soft furnishings, retro records, vintage clothing and collectibles.

Pics of the lamp illuminated and our gorgeous new cushion, both made by Recycled by Wendy, who has an amazing eye and knack for mixing stunning fabrics and tapestries to make cushions, reupholstered second-hand furniture, throws, footstools, bags and clothing.

 

I need this enormous cheongsam satin cushion and footstool in our house pronto.
Even the chillies are handmade using satin fabric.

The kimono lady, reef, windmill and mountain scenic fabrics are all tapestries and are mixed in with sequinned Indian fabrics and colourful cottons.  

The perfect throw, couch cover or wall hanging.

 

I bought these vintage sunnies from Creative Treasures for $5.

Tonight, blinged up once more and my hair curled with hot rods.
Not enough jewellery though ... never enough!

1960s top, shoes, globe earrings - eBay

Shiny skirt - op shop

Slave bracelet - Creative Treasures

Ring - craft market

Zip hair clip - gift from Erica Louise of Recycled Fashion

I hope you're all enjoying your long weekend.
We're off to Southbank tomorrow to ask Will and Kate to dinner. haaaaa!!
Baci, D xx

Hello Darlinks!!

Rewind to March.
There was a lot of talk about body image and feminism here in blogland during the IWD centenary celebrations.
And a hell of a lot of discussion about ageing.
I noticed specifically, many posts about how important it is to many that the over-40s bracket of women should age gracefully.
I think I know what ageing gracefully means, but I choose not to.
Some of you may know that I've born four children, now aged between 21and eight.
I'm the biggest know-it-all on stretch marks, saggy tits, mile-a-minute cellulite and abdominal scaring resembling a 3D roadmap; never mind the "joys" of drug-free childbirth and sleep deprivation.
And that's just the stuff mums go through.
Many women who haven't had children are grossly maligned and endlessly interrogated about their personal choices.
It seems that everywhere I go, women young and old are criticised for the most incredibly mundane things: eyebrows too thick, eyebrows too plucked; too many grey hairs, or over-dyed hair; too many kids, no kids.
I kept schtum during many of the feminist-related topics during March, but read and commented on age-related issues.
And (head hung) ... I held back some pics I took of a swimsuit The Phoenix bought me for Valentine's Day, with a lovely print of Gustav Klimt's Der Kuss.
I'd be a hypocrite if I don't share these pics simply because I don't think my thighs look their best, or my skin is looking patchy.
So here I am, child-bearing hips, cellulite and all.
My belated contribution to IWD and a thank you to the great goddess in the sky for making me a woman.
Here's to growing old disgracefully!

Swimsuit: Black Milk; men's wing-collar shirt - flea market; bangles, earrings and Indian anklet - thrifted; scars - courtesy of local mosquitoes.

Have a wonderful weekend all you gorgeous women out there in your natural glory.
Desiree xo