Want to know a secret?
I have started running and facing the perils of my own incompetence by pounding the streets in a regular, masochistic way. Let me be brutally honest..I am not a natural born runner – it really isn’t the way I am built: If I say I run with 2 sports bras, you’ll get the picture. But I’ve had a gnawing feeling that the gap between how I feel on the inside (pretty damn good, because I’m a glass half full type of gal) and what I see in the mirror (it’s a shock) is starting to widen… the truth is it’s not enough for me to just strap on a pretty pair of heels and lay on the lippy to paint the town red any more as the foundations are seriously starting to sway..and looking to the future..the only way is down..
Another confession..I’m running in my old pyjama bottoms..and not just any pj bums..these are grey ex-maternity ones now held firmly in place with a couple of safety pins. (Do you think it ‘s some psychological throw back so I can convince myself of how far my stomach has come already??). Any sartorial elegance has taken a serious nose dive…
Truth be told, I think the time has come for some major investment buying..but what?
I’m not hugely convinced by all the extra tight lycra..I realise it was invented for a reason, but I’m not sure I am it…jelly under cling film keeps playing a loop in my head.
If we are talking elegance, then it’s what the dancers wear to rehearsals that really floats my boat..the whole lose sassy shake that booty look…and yes..I wore legwarmers in the eighties..I was there..I bopped with the best to Fame n Flashdance and wanted to live forever..but I still love grey marl sweatpants and vitamin c skirts..
Super cool?…or does the word ‘chaffing’ just kill it??
Laters, Kate x