Watkinson
LAST week marked a year since the first lockdown, but congratulations aren’t appropriate, jubilation isn’t the right emotion. Relief maybe. Trepidation? Absolutely.
Lessons learned include that frequent hand washing should have always been a “thing”, exercise – even just walking – is vital for good mental and physical health, time with family and friends should never be taken for granted and hugs should be given an elevated status of very high importance.
Other more frivolous lessons I have learned include that, before lockdown, I owned too few “hanging around the house” clothes. The ratio of my wardrobe was way off for the balance of my life. The gratification I got from buying something printed, sequinned, silky, feathertrimmed or leather was always higher than when buying leggings or a hoodie, which led to me having a wardrobe full of fanciful clothes that were of little use to me during a pendemic.
I now know that the bulk of my spend on clothes should go on the items I spend the bulk of my time wearing.
Another lesson, stretchy pants are deceiving, they allow you to eat whatever you want and they grow to fit you.
Jeans, on the other hand, help you monitor your waist line and punish you after a big meal by becoming unbearably uncomfortable. Jeans should replace scales, they give a far more accurate reading of weight in my opinion. And last, but not least: heels hurt. I have had a lifelong weekendonly love affair with high heels, as a 5ft 9 person stuck in the body of someone four inches smaller, a party outfit wasn’t complete without anything less than a 10cm heel.
But after a year of wearing only trainers and the odd sandal, trying on a heeled mule this week felt alien. I was alarmed by the arch of my ankle and how slow I walked.
Do I want to subject myself to the discomfort of heels again? Can I live happily in a flat? The jury is out on that one.
I may feel differently when the world opens back up and I want to be 5ft 9 again... just for the night.
Cord dungarees £58, bulletliverpool.co.uk