I’m quite lazy by nature. I have much more potential than I care to pursue. It normally doesn’t worry me but sometimes I get annoyed with myself and just say “ffs get a grip woman“.
When I go to work I hardy ever make any effort to look my best. I wake up in the morning and my priority is to get that 10 minutes of extra sleep rather than doing my hair. I’m always struck blind by my lack of creativity when it comes to my weekday clothing: „Oh those jeans will do and that boring top too“ This situation wouldn’t be a problem if I lived and worked in Bermondsey but I live in the vicinity of Portobello Road and work in Mayfair.
By the time it’s 8.15am and I’m sat on the no. 23 bus, it’s always the same thing. Besides couple of obligatory chavs, most people who get on the bus are perfectly groomed women, with shiny hair and well thought out outfits. That’s the Westbourne Grove and Portobello effect. It makes me feel like a Susan Boyle in a room full of Cheryl Coles.
Warm and sunny days are the worst. Come lunch time, all the restaurants and cafes are filled with beautiful smiling women whilst I check out my reflection in the windows and curse myself for wearing this fucking top! So I quickly get my sandwich from Greggs and try to avoid eye-contact with people sitting outside Napket (what a bunch of posers!).
The worst thing to happen to anyone‘s self-esteem is to get lunch from Itsu in Hanover Square as it's right next to the Vogue House-the mother ship of fashion publishing.
When I approach the shop the inevitable happens. I can assure you that every single one of those perfect looking women secretly ridicule my generic fashion sense and the fact that I couldn’t be arsed to do a *fringe-wash that morning.
I do scrub up once in a while, but only when I have an actual event to go to. Putting in that effort really pays off and I feel great about myself but at the end of the night, when those false eye lashes and high heels come off, I know I won‘t be doing this any time soon again. Pheeeew!
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