Why is it that no matter how many shoes and bags and beautifully extravagant things you buy in a mad consumersitic style they never cease to make you feel as good as it does when you pop over to see your family and that first hug from your parents? Or watching your mother make a lemon meringue pie and trying to get the sugar syrup at just the right temperature in the attempt to make a meringue that would rival Nigel Slater's?
Don't get me wrong- I <3 the amazingly beautiful things in life- take one look at my wardrobe and ever growing shoe collection and you will soon see, and they can bring an added sparkle to the most gloomy and depressing days in Manchester (anyone who has lived in Manchester will totally empathsise with this, WHY DOES IT RAIN SO GODDAMN MUCH?!) This is the excuse I tell myself before handing over my plastic at the till whilst absolutely and resolutely avoiding looking at the total cost of my Topshop addiction, but do you not think there's something missing from the feeling you get when you get home and parade around in those sky scraper - ankle breaking Kurt Geigers?
I think there is- however- there is NO WAY in hell that I would ever not go shopping after a truly horrific break up, or make sudden last minute New Year's resolutions to get my nails done once a month (HELLO there Jessica Manicures!) after said break up, as to coin a phrase from a supermarket I actually detest, 'every little helps'. But, spending time with the ones who will be there with you, through thick and thin, through disastrous relationships, bad haircuts and hideous fashion mistakes (I'm thinking the noughties look is a prime example- wearing 'floor sweeper' jeans as my Dad named them probably wasn't the best style choice I've ever made- especially when it rained.)
You can probably tell that I just spent the weekend with these people in my life. Everyone from my parents, to my great Aunt Audrey to my Uncle Nick (who gets through a bottle of red quicker than you can say Cabernet Sauvignon). I am incredibly lucky to have such a lovely family, who gets on so well. Yes, we have our ups and or downs and we may go for longer than we care to admit without seeing one another, but that small thing of having a drink with these people always does the world of good. Its the small things, the camerarderie between family members that makes you smile wider than you had done all week.(For example- my sister proving she could fit more than three scotch egs in her mouth all at once to win a bet with my uncle, classy bird.)
These are the people that will never tell you you are 'too nice' or pick at how one can never seem to make a decision, but they are the ones that will take you as you are and love you through thick and thin- and in my case- through the 'floor sweeping' jeans look.. Can a pair of shoes do that? Doubtful. But they do make you look and feel damn fine, which is half the battle I reckon. (And that gives me the excuse for guilt free shopping, for at least a fortnight before having to rack my brain for another to excuse the fact I've just blown my week's food budget on yet another pair of shoes.)