Lessons learnt and what I wore learning them.

This week, I learnt I like sober raves at 6.30am.  I learnt I’m great at making a chocolate cake, but not so much a carrot cake. I learnt I like networking evenings.  I learnt I get more tired the older I get and you just have to suck it up and box on. I learnt that eventually I have an off-switch that I need to hit sometimes and I learnt that no matter what, seeing anyone taking heroin or glue-sniffing makes me cry.  What’s this got to do with style? Not much, but I figured you may not mind.  If you do, then I’m sorry, I’ll tell you what I wore while I learnt these things, if that helps?

Let’s go back to Sunday.  It was to be a good day, pottering at home after a busy social weekend.  I always love the idea of being busy with friends and family, but the reality is, Sundays need to be restful in order for me to recharge for the week. Despite this, last Sunday, I tried to still pack in a little something something and it backfired.  I learnt (what I’ve always known, but have never fully acknowledged), that our kids like ‘activities’ and a day at home can drive them b-nanas.  Even after we paid a freaking fortune for a strip of grass to be laid (it was a bit more than that, but that’s not the point) and they can play football to their hearts content, they still say “there’s nothing to do”.

So off we went on an epic family walk to the local dog park – they went mountain biking, I kept my steps up.  The picture in my mind was Sound of Music, Swiss Family Robinson but the reality was more the Twilight Zone.  We got abuse for having no water or snacks, for walking too fast, for walking too slow, for walking at all, for taking the dog park route and not straight to the trails, for it starting to rain (it spat for 10 seconds), for it being too hot, too cold, for their helmets being itchy, too tight, too loose, too anything.  So by the time we got home, I was mainlining coffee to get through the rest of the day.  I then attempted a cake for a family party.  I should have stopped right there. I decided on carrot cake, cause I love cream cheese icing.  I had never made a carrot cake (without my mums help) before, so it wasn’t the smartest idea.  It took 20 minutes longer to cook than instructed, so I should have known by then that it was a goner.  I may have decided on putting my husband in charge for the final 10 minutes so I could take a power-nap.  That wasn’t my best idea.

Waking up from said power-nap, I found out that the carrot cake had burnt – really, in that final 10 minutes it decided to burst into flame?  The husband decided to help by taking the top of it off, which kind of worked if you had no cares in the world, but not for a birthday boy Grandad!  Anyhoo, I quickly made another cake, my go to chocolate cake I should have done in the first place.  It turned out great.  Except it was too hot to ice before we left for said family party.  On this day I wore double stripes from Zara and felt great.  Until I sat on my haunches to slice a piece of cheese at the party and the seam ripped a little on my calf.  Fark. So that day I learnt I should NOT leave the house on Sundays and that Zara pants have no give.

Right, onto Monday.  It was a good day, I think.  I can’t remember much, cause it’s already Thursday as I write this and I can’t remember that far back.  But I know what I wore – head to toe Zara again.  Bloody hell, is there a pattern brewing? There were stripes involved and a lace skirt.  I felt great. The day ended in a movie date night with the carrot cake killer, so that was nice. We saw Trainspotting 2, one of our favourites from the 90’s and I wanted to see how Renton, Sick Boy and Begby had fared in the last twenty years.  It was good, but I got sad, oh so sad at the heroin taking reminders.  I learnt, or was reminded of, how much needles and glue sniffing make me very sad and I feel quite depressed seeing it.  Plus, on Sunday, we’d seen a glue sniffer in a field by a gas station, walking around like a Zombie with a plastic bag stuck to his face and that had mad me even sadder.  It left me cold.

Onto Tuesday and still more Zara.  Really this is getting ridiculous.  I had on my new jeans and I learnt that I really really loved them. You want to know why?  Because they have a skort over the top – a strip of material pretending to be denim shorts and they cover all the bad bits and the camel toe threatening.  I fell in love at first sight. I wore them casually for the day and switched it up at night for another lesson learnt.  I like networking evenings. I attended a really cool one on Tuesday night and really really enjoyed it.  I once wrote a blog about networking and I followed my own advice, which you can check out here. I fancied up my jeans with leopard print and felt confident.  Thanks leopard print and skort jeans.

Then suddenly is was 6am on Wednesday. It was raining.  But I got out of bed at the 6am alarm and poured myself into some lycra (it was leopard print again).  I was about to experience my very first sober rave. I had very little expectations, other than a lingering question – would I feel like a dick dancing at 6.30am? Turns out no, I did not.  It was thoroughly enjoyable with just a coconut water on board and the feeling that by 8am I had nearly reached 10,000 steps.  So to celebrate I took the day off exercise the following day, which is probably defeating the success of the rave.  So I learnt I like sober raving in the morning.  Yesterday I wore Zara again – a gingham dress and the same green jacket from Monday night’s movie date.  Happy once again with the outfit.  It made me feel good and that’s great.

Today was my final day in the office for the week and come Friday I am all over the Sisterhood of Style like a spider monkey. Guess what I wore?  Zara.  Again. There was some Shine On, Glassons and Country Road thrown in but the gauzy, floaty dress, the best part of the outfit, was Zara.  Oh boy, this is getting interesting.  I hadn’t realised until I sat down to write, just how much Zara features in my wardrobe.  I’m really tired now, it’s 7.30pm and I’m threatening kids with all sorts to try and get them into bed to read.  It’s not working. But I think fondly of my outfit. It made me feel empowered and confident. Thanks outfit.

As I reflect on this week and all that is left of it, I am thrilled at it’s outcome, I am exhausted by it’s depth and I love that I tired to do something new everyday.  Don’t get me wrong, not everyday or every week is like that.  No, not at all.  Some days I am so overcome with tiredness and have no motivation and I flop on the couch and go to bed by 8.30pm.  But this week, it was full for the right reasons – reasons I chose to be busy with. I had no obligations, except ones that I had asked for and wanted and it feels like a good solid week just passed.  So I learnt I like being busy, I am best being busy, I do more, get more shit done when busy.  But I like my Sundays quiet, calm and hovering around home and I like wearing Zara.  A lot.

What does a good week look like for you?

Mmmmmwah, EJ, the mother of the Sisterhood. xo

If you would like to book a styling session, or want to chat about any style related queries, then drop EJ an email emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com she’d love to chat. 

 

That time I got a third boob and what I did about it.

I’m sitting here with the perkiest boobs (I hate the word tits) that I’ve ever had and with the cutest little peekaboo straps sitting above my T-shirt neckline.  I have my arms close to my body and I CAN’T FEEL MY BOOBS.  They sit close by, ensconced in lace and some magical fabric that has me not only contained, but perky, minimised but not flat, what is this black magic you ask? It’s called a well fitting bra sisterhood. My boobs are where they should be and nowhere they shouldn’t and I feel bloody amazing, just in my baggy T-shirt and PJ’s.  Perky=power. And best of all, I never left the house to get this perky. Read on to find out how.

I can only speak on behalf of those who are generously endowed in the boob department. No matter what I weigh, nor how many children have sucked the life out of them, mine remain steadfastly large.  My husband loves that, he loves them, always has, he’s a boob man, so that’s lucky. I love my boobs, I check my boobs for lumps, I get mammograms as I have a family history of breast cancer, I appreciate their form and they are part of my body – in all it’s good and bad glory. But there’s a slight downer, when they get in the way as I whack a tennis ball, or attempt a run and they may flip out without warning when frolicking in the surf, but they can also make me super happy when I fill out a dress, or  I need a defined waist area. So bras are important.  I don’t really get that meme that says something like “Hometime, bra off, trackies on, wine in glass”.  I can’t not wear a bra, because…let’s just say defined isn’t what you’d see.

So, as I was saying, bras are a thing for me, they need to fit well and that ground to a halt over recent months as I slowly accepted / discovered my third boob.  You know that sneaky little bitch, that climbs over the top of the bra cup?  The one that squidges out and can be seen from the front, the back, the side.  A little like back fat (more on that later).

But then an angel came to my rescue.  Sveltana Griffen from Intimo called me and offered to give me a personalised bra fitting and if I liked it (and only if), then would I share my story with the Sisterhood.  Hell bloody yes I would, I said, but be warned, I’m pretty honest.  She told me she liked my honesty so I said, let’s do this.  Svetlana and I had met at a networking evening back in August 2016 and she and I connected right away.  She has two boys like me and is a working mum, kicking ass and taking names.

Fast forward a few weeks to a gorgeous sunny Saturday morning, 10am.  The house is quiet and all my boys are out of the house, including the 12 year old dog.  Heaven. I’ve got Spotify playing Adele and the coffee machine just poured me the best cup of coffee I ever tasted. The mood was set, I was ready to be measured.  I realised then, that the tables had been turned and I possibly felt like my clients do when we do a wardrobe edit – they get their clothes off in front of me and I hope I put them at ease, just as I hoped Svetlana would do.  I felt so nervous but so excited to get properly fitted.  Svetlana turns up in her gracious gorgeous way, immediately putting me at ease (in my own home) and explaining the process to me.  She didn’t want to overwhelm me, so she then proceeded to bring in her giant suitcase – a Samsonite purple wonder – filled to the brim with bras and Intimo clothing.  I swooned.

We spent some time talking about Intimo and what she offers (personalised fitting appointments and group fitting appointments, plus Intimo have gorgeous Merino and outer wear that is dreamy – Svetlana was wearing an awesome dress that day, with a bralette over the top – check out my #womanofstylewednesday post I took of her). Anyhoo, I’m digressing.  Once she had introduced me to the range and what I should expect, she took my measurement.  She does this, with you current bra on, it’s very discreet and no hands involved, just a tape measure touching you, I felt super comfortable. It turns out I am lopsided, like may women and one is much larger than the other! Then, it came to fitting me in the right bra.  Now I am no stranger to bra fittings but I often find that shops don’t carry my size or understand my needs.  The beauty of Intimo and them coming to your house is that you have already told them your current size and the consultants will bring a selection of that size and others thereabouts, so that you do have a range to try on.

Suddenly I was trying on (Svetlana stood behind me for modesty as I slipped each bra on) different cups, fabrics, looks, Tshirt bras, lace bras and all that was in between.  There wasn’t a HUGE range in my size, yes girls, my cup runneth over, but I was so superbly happy with what I tried on, I realised my most important dream – to feel sexy and with only two boobs, not three.  I thought I wanted a TShirt bra the most, but when I spied the bra with the cute straps that sit above the cup, I was a goner.  I thought only skinny women, with a small cup would suit that.  Turns out, that’s not the case. Cue next swoon.

The whole time I was made to feel informed, comfortable and safe with someone helping me to try on one of the most important pieces of clothing I own – a perfectly fitted bra. I didn’t even care that I had gone up a size (Svetlana may have called my back fat, angel wings, bless – nothing that a few lateral pull ups/pull downs and some serious stopping on the drinking of the vino tinto every night won’t sort out).  We may have chatted so much about being girl bosses and mammas and how we deal with the juggle that we went well over the time she had anticipated, but I loved that we got on and could talk like friends. Thats a sure fire way to ensure I trust someone.  Svetlana – my boobs look fabulous, thanks to you :-).

Post visit, I waited a few days for my Intimo package to arrive and when I did – get this – Svetlana – who had tracked the courier – checked in on me to see if the sizing was right.  I couldn’t meet her in person for a few days so we did some exchanging of texts and messenger and we devised that one of the bras wasn’t the right size and one was absolutely bloody perfect.  So, like a true boss babe who puts her customer first, she exchanges the one that hadn’t fitted perfectly, for one that did, overnight.  BOOM.  I mean, who doesn’t love customer service that still meant – not once – did I had to leave the comfort of my own home and can do some of the negotiations and discussions, outside of normal working hours.  Now that is special to a time poor mamma.

So there you go girls, my perky boobs are sitting high and proud tonight and filling out a top so much better than the bra that aids my third boob to spring to life.  I feel slimmer (I am definately not) because I am wearing the right size for me right now and I can see a clear waist underneath me – well I can when I look in the mirror, cause I can’t see much below those puppies when I look down.  Awkward. I have a Tshirt bra that doesn’t show up under thin fabrics and a gorgeous lacy bra that holds me in, but provides a beautiful shape and a bit of sexiness.

If you’d like to know more about Intimo and how you can make magic happen with your boobs or you want to see Svetlana’s magical suitcase, then please do give her a call (details below).  Having my bras fitted personally was one of the best style decisions I’ve ever made.  Svetlana tells me that they have some bras that may be suitable for those who have had surgery for breast cancer too.  And for those of you who wear a slip or cami underneath your Tshirts to hold your boobs in – you won’t have to do that anymore.  Now how cool is that.

Lots of love EJ, the mother of the Sisterhood 😍

Contact details:  Svetlana Griffen / 021 783 845 / svetlana.griffen@intimo.com.au / Facebook.com/svetlana.griffen 

To the Sisterhood, on my birthday

It’s my birthday, I’m gonna party like it’s my birthday. I’m one year old this weekend and I like it.  Hey, don’t tell EJ (the mother of the Sisterhood of Style), but I’ve taken over her blog ’cause I wanted to write to you – the sisterhood about what it’s been like to have been the Sisterhood of Style for one year.  Let’s celebrate. But first, let’s reminisce.

Back in the late hours of 2015, just as EJ was having a bubbles and about to ring in the New Year, she had only just started to imagine me.  I was a mere dimple in her cheek, a twinkle in her eye and wee nudge about to go in the right direction.  EJ was sitting next to a  woman at a party who asked her what she did. She told some bland story about working in a corporate but lit up when she talked about her passion project; her dream to bring more confidence to women in New Zealand by helping them with their style.  My ears perked up just then and I became a bit more than a dimple/nudge/twinkle.

The next morning, when she saw the same woman down at the beach, she said to EJ that she spoke with so much light in her eyes, passion in her voice and with utter conviction, she thought that EJ was talking about a business she’d run for a long long time.  Nope, got that wrong, I hadn’t even been born yet, but maybe, just maybe, that was the night I was conceived.

EJ kicked off 2016 deciding on a name and how to make her dream a reality.  She knew the name had to be collaborative and community based.  She wanted to share what she knew, share what she was learning through a Diploma in Styling, life-experience, fluctuating weight but always a confidence with what she wore.

And that’s where I came in.  One hot January evening, on a date night with her husband, who quickly turned into her #instagramhusband, they came up with the name. Like a shooting star, I zoomed across the sky (and the birthing canal) and shot straight into her heart, or like cupids arrow I shot her in the butt, big time.  Sisterhood of Style was born.  I think they may have even given themselves a high five and for the rest of the date (they were watching the latest Bond film), EJ buzzed with excitement and didn’t even blink at Daniel Craig with his shirt off. She knew, with utter certainty, that this was THE something she’d been wanting to something up, for sometime.

You see, at the heart of what I am,  Sisterhood of Style is wanting to help every woman to feel confident when she gets up in the morning and get’s dressed, or goes out to an event, walks into a shop or looks at her wardrobe.  We (that’s EJ and I) want her to look with wonder, or at least not dread at her clothing and think, “How am I going to look badass today?” We figure, if you have to get dressed everyday, why not make it fabulous?  And to be clear – that’s YOUR sense of fabulous, not EJ’s.  We want the Sisterhood to be about you and what makes you comfortable and, a little bit rock and roll.  We will push you a little to try new things – jumpsuits, different lengths, colours, patterns, black when you always wear colour – this list goes on.  But you will always feel happy in the knowledge that you can tell EJ she is barking mad and stop.  Or not :-).

So you want to know who EJ is when she’s at home?  She was born in Christchurch and moved to Auckland when she was 10 with her family.  Her  parents divorced when she was 18 and she has a brother and a big bunch of stepfamily on both sides.  They, like most families are not without their dramas and fighting and frustrations.  She met the Welsh #instagramhusband in London and dragged him back to Auckland to live in 2001. He’s a patient man, loves his football and is a total dude supporter of SOS. She has two sons that keep her on her toes and she now hears herself giving them the stern talking too’s her mum gave her.  Soap in mouth may have been mentioned a few times already.  She won’t mind me telling you that she’s 42 and has been a size 10 and a size 16. She now flicks between a size 12 and 14, depending on the shop and how little exercise she has done and how many donuts and wine she has consumed. There is a very good reason I tell you this though – it’s because she is just like you, a normal kiwi women, whose size DOESN’T matter.  She wants to spread the word to NOT give two shits about your size and concentrate on how you feel. If you need to do something about it, then do!  Go you, but if you are happy and feeling confident in what you wear, then get to it girlfriend, Sisterhood of Style has got your back. EJ’s motto is “I don’t care what size the clothing label tells me I am – as long as I feel freaking fantastic in the clothes”.

For full disclosure, I came on board with EJ at a time in her life when she felt über confident.  Life isn’t always easy, it ain’t all made up of those Instagram squares, but it’s a good one to have.  When I met her, she was peaking with her confidence in style, she knew what she liked and she ran with it – every single day and in the past year her confidence in challenging herself to do more, be more, try more with her clothes has seen her fully embrace her  penchant for leopard print, patterns and bold colours. But, as I said, that doesn’t mean you have too. But she’d like to help you find your “peak confidence in YOUR style”.

It’s been the most incredible and the most challenging year. It began with the first excitement of posting on Instagram and making it public about what she was doing (the actual date of my birthday), but the year just grew and grew for the Sisterhood from there.  Along the course of the year, we’ve hosted workshops with bunches of gorgeous friends at her  home, at yours and in between. We’ve styled things you just didn’t know how to wear and we’ve seen the light go on in your eyes as EJ revealed easy tips and tricks to make your style work smarter, better, sexier, faster, longer – for you.

We’ve had one on one shopping trips with some beautiful women who simply had lost their faith in shopping and finding what suited them, or had changed body shape post baby, or was about to embark on a new job or needed a seasonal change in wardrobe.

We’ve spent time in your bedrooms, within your wardrobes, with courageous women who open them homes and let EJ  guide them on finding the best of what’s in there and maximizing their style at home.

We’ve taken countless texts, Facebook messages, emails and phone calls from friends and clients, asking for advice on what to wear to a certain event, comparing outfits, and eager to know if the shoe they had on, worked. She’s now bundled this advice into a package for you, the Sisterhood called “Stylist in your pocket“.

We’ve spoken to, met and engaged online with some of the most inspiring, awesome, talented and fun women in New Zealand and beyond.  I know EJ feels lucky to have met so many of you, in person and online.

I feel stoked to be the Sisterhood of Style – so imagine what EJ must feel at having dreamt me up and giving me life.  It’s a dream, a passion, a calling and a movement.  The Sisterhood is strong in all of you and EJ wants you along for the ride.  If there was one piece of advice you need to hear before I go, it’s this.  Styling isn’t a luxury, if you value how you feel about yourself, if you want more than just the same old boring stuff you buy, if you want to feel a thrill when you’re complimented or you look in the mirror and think “Damn sister, I look fabulous”.  The Sisterhood of Style is so much more than clothes – it’s about building your confidence beyond what you already have.  You don’t have to have clothes that shout from the rooftops, you just have to have the confidence to wear them well and with passion – and not let them wear you.

So thanks Sisterhood, I love being me – the Sisterhood of Style.  Make sure to tell EJ how much you liked me blogging on her behalf, so she doesn’t get too angry at me 🙂

If you would like to book a styling session, or want to chat about any style related queries, then drop EJ an email emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com she’d love to chat. 

 

Why you need a stylist.

“Did you just say what I think you did?”(yes I did, allow me to explain)…

“What did you say to me you cheeky bitch?”  (Ouch)…

“How dare you suggest I need a stylist.”  (It’d be kinda fun though and it’s not about what’s wrong, but about what could be sooooo right)…

“If my husband brought me a styling package, I would be so offended.” (But would you really?)…

All of those are valid thoughts and feelings, but I wanted to the chance to reply on why you need a stylist…

1. Do you stand in front of your wardrobe and a) yawn b) come over with a headache from the lack of inspiration? c) think you have nothing to wear?  d) all of the above.
2. Do you walk into a store and walk right back out again, not seeing anything that you like, or you feel intimidated by the shop, the shop girls or the sheer amount of clothes to try on.
3. Do you have items in your wardrobe that you haven’t worn, because you don’t know how?
4. Do you feel like you want to show off your fabulous inner self a little more on the external? You have a passion for fashion but it doesn’t love you back? Do you hate clothes and only wear them because it’s illegal not too?
5. Do you want a bit of a change, a shake up from the norm?
6. Are you returning to work after a baby?
7. Are you trying to get back into your wardrobe after an eighteenth month absence from having a baby, then a toddler and only wearing active wear?
8. Would you love to have an impartial style sister by your side when shopping and in your wardrobe, giving you a completely refreshed style?

If you answered yes to any of these and you may have other reasons too,then a styling session could be just what you need and want.

My passion for the Sisterhood of Style is to boost women’s confidence and raise women up and help them to feel fabulous in themselves and how they present themselves to the world.  It’s not about pointing out the negative, but totally and utterly enhancing the positive.  It’s about challenging you to see yourself in clothes you have never thought to try and to build up a fabulous capsule wardrobe, so that you have go to pieces for when you have the dreaded “I have nothing to wear” moments.

Rather than being offended that someone buys you a styling voucher, why not ask for it for Christmas and jump to the front of the queue.  One of my repeat clients has recently asked her hubby to get in touch with me to buy a voucher for her :-).

You can read about what a wardrobe detox is like right here and you can find everything you need to know about a personal shopping session here.

Sisterhood is the number one reason I started this biz, style is just a really lovely complementary companion.

So my dear sisterhood, I hope you see that booking a session with me as your stylist is all about you and feeling fabulous, providing a boost to what you already have inside. If you need more evidence, just read my client’s testimonials.

Email me at emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com to book a session or grab a voucher for Christmas. xxxxx

Mmmwah, love EJ, Mother of the Sisterhood xo 

 

I have nothing to wear #IHNTW

Sigh.  Who hasn’t said this to themselves, their friends, their partner before.  I-have-nothing-to-wear or IHNTW for short.  Five short words that can turn a good day bad, excitement for an event into dread and a feeling of defeat that can be paralysing.

Before you think I am overstating the case, try to recall when this statement applied to you and cast your mind back to how that felt.  Paralysing much?

You may think, as a stylist, that I don’t feel this fear, this sense of WTF do I pull out of this thing called my wardrobe.  Well I do and it sucks.

I have plenty of clothes, not on the ridiculous level, and I feel a sense of pride in turning older outfits, new, by styling things differently or with a twist and then seeing the results in a new way.  So while the feeling is rare that IHNTW, I still feel it.  It’s tough and it usually precedes an event or a work day, when I really need to get my hustle on.

So let me tell you how I tackled my recent IHNTW dilemma.  It all starts one Saturday, that followed a Friday night. I’d stayed in with my kids, but my hubby had been out celebrating his work Christmas Party.  Then came Saturday morning and a busy day with our kids, swimming lessons, play dates and a family 1st birthday party.  I had no problems getting dressed for these moments, I felt confident, sorted and stoked with my choices.  The husband had earlier suggested we go out for a date night later on. It was much-needed. But I was dragging my heels.  First I couldn’t decide what I really wanted to do.  Do you ever find that sisters who have kids? Date night feels like a big huge deal, they happen so rarely that you want to fit in every dream date your could ever imagine into one small, shitty Saturday night.

Suddenly it was flotation tanks and champagne, dinner at the noodle markets, high end hotel stay, simple street food collective and trying all sorts, champagne bar, a walk down Franklin Road for the Christmas Lights, it was to be all things to all attention starved, busy AF 40 year olds.  But then it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.  There were two people and one night, and a 16 year old babysitter who had to be Uber’ed home (it’s a thing now apparently) by 11.30pm.

Phew, suddenly the pressure of IHNTW was compounded by I don’t want to go out and I don’t know what I want to do anyway and I’m fucked off at you and I don’t know why.

So there was that.  Anyhoo, I wildly digress.  Obviously –  I wasn’t a total dick – we confirm we are to go out for date night .  (We choose street food, cocktails and Christmas lights if you were wondering).  But that’s where the pain in the butt starts.  The IHNTW nightmare.

Half and hour before the babysitter arrives, such is my despondency with my sartorial choices, I attempt to decide.  First up, an all black outfit, that hides my skin and hides me.  I aim for sleek and come out looking EMO and hidden.  Next up are jeans and a baggy silky top, aiming for casual chic.  I end up looking much older than I want, washed out and bored.  I’m stumped.

I go put my makeup on and do my hair and in T minus 15 minutes until the sitter comes, I am back in the bedroom making panic choices.

FFS, why does this happen, why do we lovely, gorgeous women make ourselves feel like crap and claim IHNTW? My theory is that despite rationally knowing that we have plenty to wear, our mood and our self talk can be a debilitating dampener to our usual choices.

Suddenly, and I can say this on reflection, my dreary thoughts on not really knowing what I wanted from date night, translated into not helping me decide what to wear.  I was in a quagmire of doubt over the night and it bled into my fashion choices.  I basically turned catatonic for ideas.  I tried snapping myself out of it and it only made the decisions harder. I had a top on that I liked, but bottoms I wanted nothing to do with.

But then I had a brain wave and asked myself what I felt great in, what I felt comfortable in and hoped the two were there same thing.  They were.

So I kept on the top that I liked and added a skirt, instead of the pants – wide legged and jeans – that I had been trying on.  The skirt had the added benefit of being a little see-through, so I felt a little shinier and sexier, which is probably much-needed for a date night don’t you agree? I grabbed an old favourite – the denim jacket and popped that on for fun.  It worked, I mean I wasnt LOLing all over the shop, but it worked.  So suddenly the outfit emerged, comfortable, a little bit of sexy and a whole lot of “I feel great”.

So what is this blog all about, other than me moaning that I had nothing to wear? It’s about turning that shite around in your head and saying “yeah I do”.  I was in a shitty mood and that translated into telling myself that IHNTW. Just like negative self talk can bleed into our lives in other insidious ways,  the day it hit my wardrobe, I decided to fight back.  Funny that.

So here’s my thoughts on what you could do to break through the block of IHNTW.

1. Tell yourself YES I DO, you crazy, sexy, cool, fabulous mother trucker.
2. Try all the things on until, if it feels crappy, take it off (crazy idea) until the right outfit makes you hum. I would suggest going for an old favourite, like a denim jacket or a dress that makes you feel fine.
3. If going out for an occasion, try on the things that make you happiest, even if you’re worried that you’ve worn them before – who gives a crap!  Unless you’re a celebrity whose going to be photographed and the evidence ends up in Grazia.
4. When in doubt use accessories to make the most of any outfit.
5. Take a pic of a great outfit, that you love, knowing it may come in handy when the IHNTW’s happen.
6. Wear lipstick, always.

Do you ever tell yourself IHNTW?  Tell me about it sisters….

mmmmmwah, love EJ, the mother of the sisterhood.  xo

Remember, if you really are wanting more confidence in your style choices, why not book a session with me to do a wardrobe detox or personal shopping session.  Email me at emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com for bookings. 

Five Festive Faves. How to take an outfit from work to party.

It’s December. That most wonderful time of the year.  It’s full of festive fun, cheer and spending.  It’s like all our collective brains switch to festive mode and we all take a turn down crazy town lane, spending money on all of the things, race around decorating our houses, wearing all the nice clothes and generally act like loons, like we don’t have jobs to wake up too, kids to look after or Christmas Dinner to cook.

But I love it all really, like really I love love love Christmas.  There is nothing better than the nostalgic Christmas music, ours will be ringing from our house from 1 December, right through until Christmas Day.  We will get our tree this weekend.  The advent calendars will be filled with chocolate and the letters to Santa will be magically taken away by Santa’s Elves one night and I will get a “Christmas Day outfit” especially purchased for the occasion and likely teamed with some naff Christmas dangly earrings that glow red.  Did I mention how much I love Christmas? Does everyone get a Christmas Day outfit?  Or is that just me?

What I do find a little tricky at this festive season though, is what to wear from day to night. Don’t you find sisters, there   There is a combo of work and parties and playdates and kids stuff that I have to juggle and that requires likely the same outfit for all of those things, in one day, one evening even.

So here’s where I thought I could help, because I thought you sisters may have the same busy schedules and dilemmas.  So from me to you, I wanted to  share the top five things you can do to make it easy to transition from work / mum wear to festive party outfit in five minutes.  Say what now?

Here’s how it’s done.

Shoes – wear casual trainers or flats for the daytime and then swap them out with a heel, for an instant outfit lift.  I’m wearing a leopard print heel in the photo, because it never goes out of style, and makes any outfit sing like a star.

Makeup – Wear some.  Nuff said.  Oh ok then, I’ll elaborate. Wear makeup lightly during the day for work or mum-life.  Then, when you are ready to get your party pants on, break out a festive red lipstick or a rich dark pink. The deep colours will lift and brighten your face and add the essential “I made an effort” glow.

Hair – If can’t stand the thought of trying to style it after work or during kids dinner, before you go out, with a mascara wand trailing all over your face as you provide your kids a well-balanced meal, well, then use a quick spritz of use some dry shampoo to turn that hair from drab to glam. For longer styles, put your hair up in a messy top knot at the start of the day.  It’ll last the distance if you use some gentle hair spray and look like you gave a crap but are messily elegant.  Well that’s what I’m calling it!  Use windswept if you must.

Jacket – For the evening option, mix and match a jacket that you haven’t worn during the day – for me, this leather look Max jacket in dusky rose pink is my go too to help an outfit along.

Jewellery – swap out and around any jewellery you have.  Make it subtle during the day, so that the evidence is there that you’ve made the effort for the evening shift at the party.  Big bold earrings like these from H&M are a winner.

 

Night

Day

So there, that’s it, all done and dusted in a five-minute switcheroo.  You probably will need some other essentials like deodorant and perfume, fresh eye make up and a hint of blush, but I couldn’t fit that in to a top 5.

What will you be wearing this festive jolly season?

Mmmmmwah, Merry Christmas, love EJ, Sisterhood of Style. x

Why you should agender-ise your sisterhood catch ups

I’m here to share with you why you should agender-ise your squad catch ups.  It’s a thing.  Well it wasn’t a thing, but now it is.

Sisters, time with your sisterhood, your besties, your squad is precious and often too short.  These precious moments are often so full of excitement at catching up, workshopping important and less important information and bantering back and forth, that you can leave feeling there was so much more to say.  Well I have a plan to help you on that.

Now, “just back the truck up” I hear you say, you want me to what?  Yes, I said it, I want you to put an agenda on the table and work through it systematically or erratically, whatever rocks your boat when you next meet up with your sisterhood/squad/friends/besties.  You’ll leave with a sense of calm that everyone has put their cards on the table and got their turn to offload/share/bitch/moan/vent/celebrate.

I’m finding the older I get (I still feel 27, but have a few more wrinkles, rolls and kids than I did back then), that time with my friends is sacred and I want to wring the most out of the time I have with them as possible.  There is so much that can’t be said via text and short phone calls, so I tend to “save” stuff up, but by the time we catch up, the moment’s been and gone, I’ve workshopped the issue myself or I’ve just plain forgotten.

And then in the space of one week, I was lucky enough to have two girly catch ups booked in and would you believe, both sets of friends put an agenda on the table.  At my heart, I’m an organiser, I do it for a living wrangling clients in my day job and make shit happen in my #mumboss biz, so you can imagine I was giddy with delight that agendas had been set.  Both were different versions but both have their merits, so it got me thinking that this blog is all about the sisterhood and I should share some life-hacks that I love with you.  So here’s how they went:

1. Agenda One: “Bring your top 3 to discuss, everything else is a free for all”.  This agenda had a fluidness to it, a liberal dose of letting the cards fall where they lay but it set an expectation that you’d get your turn, you have important things to discuss and it will happen, but shit might change and that’s cool.
2. Agenda Two: Rough agenda for Thursday: School fair,  renovation bitch and moan, husbands, kids, body yarns – what the fuck is happening to us?, building each other up – we are amazing after all and AOB (any other business).

To be fair, Agenda number two lingered on AOB for most of the night as there were some big fat rocks in there to jump over, but we got through the rest in a flash, because we remembered to keep referring back to the agenda.  Everyone left feeling lighter than when they walked in, having had the chance to offload.

Now before you get your knickers in a twist with me, thinking I am being some sort of lifestyle expert, I promise, I’m not, I just want to help the sisterhood out with a way to make life simpler, easier, more fun and calming.  Who doesn’t need that?

What do you think?  Let me know if you use the idea at your next sisterhood catchup.  It’s one big karmic cathartic love bomb of an idea.  Well I think so anyway 🙂  Happy life-hack.

Mmmmmwah, EJ, the mother of the sisterhood.  x0x0

 

The school mum catwalk in the age of the “super-mum”.

It’s a thing, I know it is, the school mum catwalk.  Well, it’s not really a thing but it is maybe kind of, a minor thing. Sort of, maybe a little bit. I dunno, but I get the feeling it is. Hear me out.

Mamma’s, put your hand up if you feel that pressure, that need to conform, out perform, do better, do more, say more, act smarter, be more, as a mamma at the school gate, on the sports ground, in the mall, at the cafe, at work, on your Instagram and Facebook feeds?  If you haven’t got your hand up, then big props to you, I love that you own your confidence and don’t bend to pressure.  But sometimes mammas, it’s hard right?

But I get that there is a need to please in mammas and we aren’t always kind to ourselves and sometimes, just a little bit, not kind to others. This blog started out being about what to wear on the school drop off.  It was a tongue in cheek look at the working mum and the SAHM (that’s stay at home mum) catwalk that presents itself every morning at my school. There isn’t really one, but it’s amusing to think there could be.  I’ve even had a few remarks on my strut into the school.  I swear I don’t strut, but there’s something about wearing heels that makes me “stride”, for sure. But I’m digressing.  I wanted to share my thoughts on why the motherhood sisterhood need to keep being awesome and working together, because the tribe of mothers I know are freaking awesome and beautiful and helpful and always ready to lend a hand.  Working/non working, it don’t matter.  There is no competition.  Except, I think maybe there is.

There is a competition within us and we only feel validated by hearing that others are in the same boat.  For me, well I constantly press like and share on the “scary mommy” posts I follow on Facebook.  I love Constance Hall and I dig a Kiwi writer call Emily Writes, because they all speak from the heart and talk of the ridiculousness and hardship and joy of motherhood.  I like that.  I like feel a part of a bigger community, that we are all in the trenches together and it sucks sometimes, it’s joyful more than sometimes and we’re in it for the long-haul.

It’s like when you have your first baby and you realise that you’ve just joined the biggest club in the world and the entry fee was a baby.  My world just opened up and aaaaaaalllll the mothering-ness came at me like a spider monkey.  My best friend and I laughingly started a cake competition on ourselves, without really knowing it, trying to out do our own cakes (not each others), year on year.  We lovingly supported each other at every party, with a “what a great cake” shout out as the candles got spat on, knowing we had been up until midnight the night before, icing and decorating that sucker, now that’s #solidarity.

But it’s like that with style and why I started Sisterhood.  I wanted to make other women feel as good about their own confidence in style as I did about the motherhood sisterhood that wrapped itself around me after the birth of the kids and when we joined the school community.

What I’m trying to say is, while there maybe a small faction of women that play in the muddy sandpit of spite, the sisterhood I am privileged to know, are freaking awesome women who lend a hand when needed and when it’s not asked for, get shit done and are completely awesome, they also rock a mean style game.  Whether that be in trainers and active wear or a kick arse power dress. Boom, mothers rock.

Have you got an awesome sisterhood of the motherhood story to share?  I’d love to hear it.

Mmmmwah, EJ, Mother Superior to the Sisterhood of Style xoxo

 

 

 

Gucci Gucci Gooo

I gotta chill and it’s multiplying. I have Gucci envy and it’s been lingering for a while now. I think the envy might be love and I want to go steady and go all the way.

The latest few seasons of Gucci is amaze. This collection of women wearing their Gucci pieces mixed with their other wardrobe pieces is everything. It hasn’t helped that Gilda Kirkpatrick was throwing down some heavy Gucci love, every week on Real Housewives of Auckland and my adoration grew.

New Zealand was so slow to get any designer stores, but since we did, I have only entered Gucci once. No one helped to serve me, so I just stood looking at the shoes like a dog salivates under the table for the last piece of roast chicken at Christmas. New Zealand now has Louis Vuitton, Dior, Prada, but it’s Gucci that gets me all hot under the collar.  The other time I entered their store, was in Sydney, on a girls trip, where I just about sank into the gorgeous prints, fabrics and shoes on display. I had to be carted out of the store, knowing I wanted more.

In my head I rationalised that $885 for a pair of Gucci gold shoes was totes do-able, if I didn’t buy anything else, no other purchases, probably have to flag eating and drinking too, but hey, Gucci shoes, they’d be worth it right? I walked away empty handed but I simply couldn’t stop thinking about them (still haven’t).

Then the next shop I walked into (it was Zara, Queen of the look-a-likes) I found a gold pair of pumps, unadorned like the Gucci babies, but gold, low heeled and I thought perfect. So similar, would it quench my thirst, I thought so.  But it wasn’t to be.  I haven’t worn them since.

So the adoration continues.  Every bit of Alessandro Michele’s (Gucci’s Creative Director) designs just make me swoon.  I am like a magpie drawn to the trompe-loeil (an artistic illusion), the colours,  clashing prints,  crazy designs (there are shoes in the latest collection with tails), the extravagance and even the nearly practical nature of it all.

I have never aspired for designer clothes, it’s not in my nature to want something, just because it’s expensive or society considers it to be a status symbol.  But this stuff, this is like my crack. Can I say that?  Cause you know sisters, crack is whack but Gucci got me high.

So rather than just moan to you about it and think it’s not possible,  I’ve started a Gucci fund, based loosely on Sugar Mamma.TV’s  The $1000 Project.  I’m not dabbling in shares yet (that would be far to Gucci of me) but I’m looking to save little by little and in turn, potentially turn that saving into an investment and use the returns to purchase me the Gold Shoes.  Like Cinderella, I really wanna go to the ball and my glass slippers better be gold.

While I wait and save and salivate, keep me company and share your salivation starvation stories of the sartorial kind.  Or you know, just let me know if you’ve ever coveted a piece of fashion royalty and what did you do about it?

Yours in a Gucci haze, mmmmwah, EJ, the mother of the Sisterhood of Style. xo

Images all from http://www.gucci.com (bookmarked favourite x)

What to wear on your first day of work

I’m starting a new job on Monday.  I’ll be the new kid on the block, at 42, that’s no mean feat.  I’ll be making friendly chit-chat and skulk out on my own at lunchtime.  I’ll have to ask where the loo is, how to make the coffee, what the kitchen etiquette is and how soon can I bring in my dog.  Yes sisters, you heard it here first, it’s a dog friendly workplace. Winning.

But I know that all of that will be a whisper in the wind by the end of the week, once I’ve worked with these awesome new people for a few days and I get the hang of the place.

What I am becoming super preoccupied with though, is what the hell do I wear?  It’s not a corporate, but I’ll be working with corporate clients, it’s not a big company, but I’ll be working with big companies.  It’s not shorts and jandles and it’s not suit and tie.  It’s the…..dum duh num dum……the inbetween.  Aggggggh (think 1950’s screen siren scream here).

Is anyone else like me and on their first day of school, a new job or a wedding and you absolutely have to purchase a new outfit?  Or is that just me?  Well, it is me, I have to own that.

So, I have a pair of Zara nautical styled (more on that style theme in another blog post soon) trousers I purchased in Sydney recently, that I haven’t worn.  I am having them taken up right now, cause I’d look like Groucho Marx if I didn’t.  But that’s as far as I’ve got.  Bugger.

I don’t want to go full nautical, corporate or too casual.  I am in a quandary.  My old clothes from corporate-ville are maybe a little too tired, but I only need a top,  now I have bottom half sorted.  So it’s a top, oh and some shoes.  I got my nails done last week by Pop Nails and they are fab-u-lous.  So that leaves me needing just a top and shoes, maybe some earrings.  Oh shit. Ok, breathe.

So, work with me sisters,  maybe I suck it up, wear a top I already have and then add some cool shoes.  Wanna know the shoes I’m trying to decide between?  You do? Ok, check these puppies out from Gorman and then these gorgeous ones from Kathryn Wilson.  Swoon much? But I can’t have both.  I have also been coveting these ones from Augustine, but they frustratingly sold out over the weekend.  I need to up my game, as I keep spying things I love and missing out by waiting too long.  Anyhoo, I digress.

What’s really exciting about starting a new job at this particular place and in an advertising and marketing environment means I can wear a T-shirt to work and it not be a major faux pas.  Call me crazy, but that is just beyond amazing.  I’m not talking simple T-Shirt and no bling.  I’m talking blinging that sucker out with a necklace and jacket and some mules and some other stuff and things, but just the mere thought of wearing the T-Shirt, with adornment, has got me all hot under the collar.  It probably means I should make more of an effort to find that elusive perfect white T  that I’ve been hunting for then shouldn’t I.

So wish me luck sisters, the ideas could all change tomorrow, but I reckon I am pretty darn excited for what I have in store for me in this new role.  I can’t wait to learn new stuff, meet new people and get some serious shit done.  I am chomping at the bit.  It’ll make for some exciting satorial adventures again too.

If you want to see the whole look come together, make sure you follow me on instagram @sisterhoodofstylenz and check out my Monday morning post.

And sisters, remember, if you need help styling YOUR first day of work at a new job, contact me today to book a styling session,  I would love to work wtih you.  Email me at emma@sisterhoodofstyle.com today.

Mmmmmwah, love EJ, the mother of the sisterhood of style xo