If someone asked me ten years ago what woman I would be today, the story would tell a whole different tale. At 18 years old I thought everything in life would be so easy. I was wrong. Like many, life has had it’s dark moments, it’s tough moments and some damn right bizarre, but one thing has always remained the same. And that’s the woman I become when I put on a dress, do my hair, my makeup and frost the whole thing off with some icy jewellery. She, has remained the same.
Not everyone knows of this feeling but I presume as you’re reading this you too have the obsession for glamour and fashion. The art of getting ready is sometimes more enjoyable than the night itself, all leading to that moment when you walk in a room and you know those glamourising hours were worth it. I call it art because we both know the skill set that comes into our beauty regime – it’s not for the faint hearted, the impatient. It’s all for her.
Men always ridicule women for their mountainous makeup, their luscious fake weave (sometimes situated on the nightstand), but I have never once got dressed for a man. Feeling good is for me and sobeit I will dress to the nines every time I step out the front door if I wish.
This is my favourite time of year when the sparkle and the glam can be turned up a few notches for Christmas. The dark nights, the cold air, wrapped up in fur, stilettos and diamonds in tow. The festive party you’re about to step into, unravelling your jacket and revealing the most incredible dress. It feels like magic.
Those that roll their eyes or laugh at the ‘fickleness’ of this feeling it’s because they’ve never experienced it. This world of fashion, makeup, glamour it’s only for us. We that spend hours sifting through blogs, magazines, videos collating inspiration in preparation for our next story.
In ten years time when you go through your old chest of drawers and pull out that amazing sequinned number, the magic comes back as you remember the day you stepped into that room.