Kirsty's inappropriate top tip # 2

Treat others as you wish to be treated, and treat those you love better than guests - explained below!
1) Why do people get all frocked up for strangers, or I guess, friends, but when they're home, with people they (hopefully) adore, they go scruff, wipe off the makeup, slip on the dreadful slippers, let their arse hang out? I know it's comfortable, and fun too, and perfect when feeling poorly, or cold. but treat your loved ones as well as you'd (curiously) treat your guests. Dress up for them too, and not just when you're going out. Of course people love you for who you are, but treat them too. It's another of life's pleasures to make someone you love smile, or tell you they adore you. In or out of trackies.

I do get teased frequently by friends for wearing skirts all the time but I just have a lot of skirts. And I like them. I like retro clothes, I like the 50s, 60s, and thus, skirts. Okay, so i have work skirts, digging holes skirts, party skirts, see through skirts, too small skirts. Huge balloon skirts ballet skirts, tennis skirts, mermaid skirts.. I like 'em.

However, oddly, I am a tomboy inside (Example: I spend yesterday smashing down three outbuildings with my dad so I could use the material to build my new chook shed) but I don't own shorts and hopefully never will. I wore my scruffiest skirt and T-shirt instead. And my black walking shoes with the tongues ripped out by my lovely dog.) and mostly I like dressing up. Not necessarily in fancy gear, but just in, like costumes. Not to be a cowboy, or a waitress necesarily, although I do that at times too, but in differnt ways, to be different people. I sometimes even do this while I'm writing, to get into the story.

Yeah, I know, - nutter.

But I hate shopping (anywhere except opp-shops - I love the discovery, and the treasure aspect of oppshops, but retail, I'm bored of it - So I took ages trying to find something to wear yesterday that wasn't a party dress - not because I don't have track pants, but because the ones I have are all still in storage, waiting for our bookshelves to be put up, and so then I can unpack the 40 boxes of books, and hopefully somewhere under there will also be thre boxes of winter clothes, and my scrubs).

Okay, yes, I know I have odd ideas, however, I see a strange link between how people scruff up around the house, take off their fancy duds and get into yesterday's smelly track suit, and how quite a few people I know only live in two rooms of their house. the rest of it is all laid out for visitors, all clean and sparkling and with guest towels and soaps you can't use (they get dusted, i know) . I think this is totally weird. the opposite of style. why give guests, people you obviously think you should impress, the very best of you? It doesn't make sense.

I guess it's when people care more about how others think of them, than how they think of themselves?

Again I can talk with (some) authority on this because I've done it myself - thought I was lower than sludge on a bottom feeders gut, but also, the other - saving beautiful things for special, kept nice shower gels for special occasions, but one day I realised TODAY was the special occasion.

After all the weird shit i've done, I think I'm sometimes lucky to be alive (in fact we're all lucky to be alive) or not in jail (yeah, well, another story) so why not celebrate today.

I think we're all worried about the future, other people's ideas of us, thinking we need to save for a rainy day. Well, I'm looking outside (I have huge windows in every room of this sixties place, which I love. Also open plan Ranch style house, so there's no special room for guests because, well, each room is special, mostly because it's got birds, or books, or my dog in there (oh, no cancel that last bit, he still thinks he's a lap dog and is trying to climb up on my lap.

Marshall (pictured here with Amber, my mum's Labradoodle)
spends his days looking for the best bit of sun in the house, or leaning against me, or trying to drag my stuff out of my office, or staring in deep love at Harper, by green budgie who talks a LOT. I know it's love because Harper flew out the other day and Marshall got close enough to eat him, and snuffled him instead).

Anyway, I digress. My hope is that people will try to overcome the urge to save the very best of themselves, and their houses, their things, their lives, for guests (ie.e strangers, or not particularly good friends if they need to be so impressed by you, they don't know you too well) and give it all to those you love, those you spend your days with, those who, if you lost them, you'd be a wreck without. Because that crap does happen and you'll always regret not dancing around in your best undies for your boyfriend when you were saving them for some special occasion that never arrived, so please, dance in your undies. it's good for your health. You can even leave the curtains open if you live in a decent street ( a little Air Supply, Guns and Roses or Destiny's Child is good enough for me, but then I have truly crap taste in music).

And that shower gel, if it's one of my favourites ('Rock Star' soap from LUSH, 'Summer Hill' from Crabtree & Evelyn) use the damn stuff now! It shouldn't be wasted, it's against the law, or something.

Be happy now, today, this minute, if you can. If there's something you have, that will make you happy, otr those around you happy, do it now! Imagine if you missed the chance? and imagine if you used that crappy old piece of Imperial Leather (If IL is a posh soap, the International Roast is a fancy European blend coffee).

You might notice I'm a big fan of nice smells (and ranting in the mornings).

2)Boys of a certain age, and lifestyle, seem to forget that pyjamas are clothes. In fact they're clothes you sweat and snuffle in for (hopefully) about eight hours. They need to be washed. After each use. Like you do your clothes. Seriously.

And bed sheets, after four/five days. I swear. GIrls like nice smells too. If you're not getting laid, this might be the reason, and if a girl is anywhere near your sheets and pyjamas or whatever you use as pyjamas) then you might be in - once. Make it twice and make sure the sheets are clean - crisp (yes, the thread count is important, those thick delicious sheets in excellent hotels can be bought for your own home, do it. those see-through softies you're still using aren't going to do much for your own happiness, or your sex life.

True, happiness is not what you buy, but what you do to make yourself happy. But n this case, what you buy can make you a happier person, because you're treating yourself and doing the equivalent of not saving the nice soaps of your guest next year...

I really think you will sleep better (unless you are an insomniac, in which case, you'll lie there starting at the ceiling in excellent sheets) and you'll feel better and you'll be nice to people because you're feeling good and you get the drift. - Hell, I should have just bought Oscar the Grouch some decent 1000 thread count sheets.

Another odd thing. I just realised the three lots of people I'm thinking about who do save all their nice, special, fancy, pretty things for guests - don't actually have many guests at all. Possibly the pressure is to great, for all of them. What a damn waste of space - in the house, - and of fun and nice smells and looking great. Makes me mad!

Listening to:'You Look Nice Today' podcasts
Eating: More apple pie. it's excellent.
Thinking about: What to wear to fancy dinner tonight.
Watching: The honey-eater (bird) outside dive-bombing my freaky looking Gravilea bush flowers - and thus I am missing my Charlie, (also a honey eater for those in he know) who used to sleep on the frame of my glasses while I was wearing them
Wearing: Flats, blue cardigan, fishnets, skirt with muddy dog prints on it.
Reading: 'A Complete Encyclopedia of Chickens' which contains the sentence: 'Apart from a fifth toe, the Faverolles has the color salmon as its special feature.'

I think my special feature is thinking about stuff too much. but then, that's what made me become a writer, it all got too busy in there and writing it all down gave my brain room to think again.