Help - it's a Mummy Mid-life Crisis!

Remember that classic moment in "When Harry met Sally" when Sally has a meltdown and utters the immortal words "And I'm gonna be 40!" to which Harry asks "When?" and she replies " Someday..... but it's there, it's just sitting there like this big dead end..."

Well last week I woke up and realized that I'm going to be 50 and not just someday, but ahem, in 3 years time - how on earth is that remotely possible? When did getting older sneak up and bite me on my (not nearly as perky as it once was) behind?  I only just turned 40 - didn't I? OK, breathe, it's not a dead end, I've still got loads of time to grow old disgracefully (which I fully intend to) and whereas Sally was panicking about being single and childless, I'm happily on the other side of that fence. With the boys growing in confidence and independence and the battle of the menopausal vs t(w)eenage mood-swings still at arm's length, I've finally got a sliver of me time - between school runs.

Time to work out what I need to do to hold it all together (answer: write my blog), time to ask myself such soul-searching questions as 'does facial acupuncture actually work?' (answer: worth a try) and 'can I get away with buying (and wearing) a black leather biker jacket?' (answer: yes, and it's in my wardrobe.) Nothing new of course, only now it's got a name. Yes, dear readers, apparently according to "Mums Like Us" author Laura Kemp I'm on the verge of a Mummy mid-life crisis - who knew?

According to Kemp there are seven symptoms of the 'Mumopause' and on going through the list I have to admit I'm exhibiting enough of them to qualify:

1. Having a Radical Haircut
Once a long haired girl always a long haired girl, that's me.  So why have I been drooling over pictures of Michelle Williams in the current Louis Vuitton campaign and wondering whether this style would suit me?

Michelle Williams for Louis Vuitton. Photo: Peter Lindbergh

 
2. Intense Exercise
I've written about my regular yoga class before and having taken it up 4 years ago it's now a fixed part of my weekly routine. I love the toning (body) and calming (mind) effects , (though heaven knows I will never have Gwyneth's "stripper's butt'') but that's not enough - suddenly I'm getting scarily drawn to rather whacky yoga leggings like these:

Onzie Galaxy yoga leggings

I even found myself a pair and absentmindedly did the school run in them post class - what was I thinking? Definitely crisis-worthy...

3. Getting Crafty
I've always been a fan of sewing a bit of bunting and making the odd lavender bag, but now thanks to the genius that is Pinterest, I'm nosily checking out everyone's interiors and holiday craft ideas and endlessly thinking I could make something similar if I had the time - which I would have, if I could just stop pinning.  Hang on, I know I've got a pot of blackboard paint somewhere....

Photo: Pinterest

4. Hooked on Social Media
Friends you've never met? Checking for constant updates on the minutiae of other people's lives? I would like to say that I'm not suffering from this symptom as I'm one of the only people left on the planet who is NOF (Not On Facebook.) How on earth do I cope you may well ask? Well, I find Instagram does it for me people, and if someone I've never met likes my cupcake photo, it quite frankly makes my day. Guilty m'lord.

5. Watching the News
Now that the children are no longer glued to Peppa Pig, we 'Mumopausal' ladies are finally able to get back to grips with world news and current affairs. Knowing what's going on in the outside world again should be a good thing, though the news is regularly so depressing that I often find myself wishing I was still watching the former.  However I have realized I can sneakily replace bearded Daddy Pig with the now rather gloriously bearded Jeremy Paxman - a perfect reason for my renewed interest in 'Newsnight'.

Jeremy Paxman Photo: BBC

6. Getting a dog
Hah - this is the one symptom I am definitely NOT exhibiting. Puppies are popping (or should that be pooping?) up all around me as other Mums I know succumb, but I am holding out - oh yes. I'm happy to have the house to myself once the boys have all left in the morning, I do not need a reason to go out for a walk in the freezing cold, no thank you. But I do think Bob will be making his way onto Captain Adorable's bed for Christmas - and no, he's not a real dog - ingenious eh?

www.snurkbeddengoed.nl

7. Caring about winter boots
Last winter it was all about my Sorel boots. That was my quest for the practical and stylish option (my 'crise' was obviously starting back then.) Now that's done I'm free to spend hours Googling slightly more frivolous footwear. I didn't know I needed a patent pair but as my favourite Fashion Editor Lisa Armstrong says - they go with everything - so now of course I do... I'm off to Zara tomorrow.

(L-R): Leather, £515, by Miu Miu, from net-a-porter.com , Block heel, £75, by Zara (zara.com) , Leather with ankle strap, £374.35, by Church's, from farfetch.com

And there you have it - I score 6.5 out of 7 - I think the 'Mummy mid-life crisis' Club would have me.

But wait, isn't there an 8th symptom out there - what about 'Getting a Tattoo'?  Surely that's a sign?  I've thought quite alot about it on and off - nothing very original I grant you: 2 stars on my wrist or the boys names in Sanskrit but so far I've resisted (perhaps subconsciously trying to keep my crisis at bay?) And then this week the 75 year old BBC TV presenter David Dimbleby revealed that he has recently had a scorpion tattooed on his back, which when I add that to David Beckham's current inking overload, I can safely say has knocked any desire I had to get a tattoo firmly on the head. Over, kaput, not for me.

Photo: BBC

 Still happy to include a pic of Becks though in his new Christmas undies:

David Beckham for H&M

So, saved by the bell (well actually the scorpion), English Gent can sleep easy, safe in the knowledge that I'm not going to turn into the Tattooed Lady over night and I can get my required 8 hours as I reckon I'm holding off on my 'Mummy mid-life' crisis - for now.  But it's definitely a slippery slope.... Are you holding out or joining the ranks? I'd love to know.

An Apple a Day

One minute it was all season of mists and mellow fruitfulness and suddenly, whether I like it or not, the Christmas countdown has begun....  However, before I go and get completely obsessed with what colour scheme my tree will be this year, I'm giving one last culinary gasp to Autumn.  It definitely wouldn't win me Star Baker on "The Great British Bake Off" (a totally addictive BBC television baking competition for those who are not in the know) but this apple pie is a slam dunk winner around our kitchen table. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my boys out in the garden apple picking and then munching their way through the fruits of their labours a couple of hours later.

Photo: www.seasonal-love.tumblr.com

The recipe in question is Nigel Slater's " Bramley Apple Shortcake" which comes from his amazing Kitchen Diaries (the first and best one in my opinion). The pastry is crumbly and sweet - it can be fiddly to roll so you need to be patient, and if you do have to patch it, by the time it comes out of the oven all golden and burnished and beautiful, no-one will be any the wiser - trust me.

For the pastry:
butter- 150g
golden caster sugar- 150g
an egg
plain flour - 250g
1 tsp baking powder
a little milk and sugar to finish 

For the filling:
1.2kg Bramley apples (if you can't get Bramleys, choose another tart apple eg Braeburn)
lemon juice
butter - 50g
a heaped tablespoon of caster sugar.

Photo: Andrea Jones

Lightly butter a 24cm shallow metal pie plate. Cream the butter and sugar in a food mixer until light and fluffy.  Mix in the egg, then gently add the flour and baking powder.  Remove and roll into a ball on a heavily floured work surface.  Knead the dough for a minute or two until it it is smooth and soft (it will be quite soft, be warned). 

Cut the pastry in half, roll out one half and use it to line the pie tin.  Wrap the remaining pastry in greaseproof paper and refrigerate it with the lined tin for 20 minutes or so.  It won't hurt if you leave it a bit longer. Set the oven at 180c/Gas 4.  Peel the apples, remove their cores and slice them thickly, as you would for apple pie.  Drop them in cold water to which you have added a squeeze of lemon juice to stop them discolouring. 

Melt the butter in a non-stick frying pan when it sizzles, add the apples.  You want them to colour here and there and soften somewhat, but without breaking up.  Scatter the sugar over them and continue cooking until they are very lightly caramelised. As soon as they show signs of frothing remove from the heat.

Place a baking sheet in the oven to heat up, use the juice from the apples to brush the edges of the lined pastry case.  Fill the tin with the cooked apples, then roll out the second half of the pastry and carefully lay it  on top of the fruit.  Press the pastry edges together and patch where necessary. Brush the pastry crust tenderly with milk and sprinkle with caster sugar.  Bake for 40 minutes or until pastry is golden and crumbly.  Leave to cool briefly, then sugar again before cutting.

I love the way Nige (as he's my constant kitchen companion I like to think we're on first name terms by now) advises 'tenderly' brushing the pastry crust with milk, but he's absolutely right. The warm apples make the pastry very soft so you have to go gently or you risk breaking the pastry top.

I kid you not, this is one of the most life-affirming, uplifting mouthfuls of apple you will ever taste - I urge you to give it a go. As they say on the GBBO "On your marks, get set, bake!"

Object of desire - the black trouser (suit)

Yves Saint Laurent has a lot to answer for in my book.  Ever since he launched 'Le Smoking' - the bold, sophisticated tuxedo for women - way back in 1966 (a vintage year though I say it myself), the perfect black trouser (suit) has been out there, and yet it remains incredibly elusive. Which got me wondering why should such a classic item be so hard for us mere mortals to pin down?

Photo: Helmut Newton

Back in the 90's when I was living my London life, a pair of black trousers from Joseph on the Fulham Road were the nec plus ultra of office attire. Squeezing yourself into a pair of the signature low-cut, narrow-leg pants however was another matter entirely, and I didn't seem to be the right shape back then to be a Joseph girl,  regardless of whether I could afford them.... But oh, did they represent a level of chic and modernity that we all aspired to - I was not going to give up my quest.

Joseph AW13

I knew that designer definitely beat high street as regards the tailored trouser, and after some more sleuthing finally found a pair from Anna Sui in The Harvey Nicks sale: flat fronted, boot cut and beautifully made, they fitted the bill and went with everything. I hauled them out of mothballs the other day and tried them on. How fickle the fashion years are - where once they looked so right, now they just seemed frumpy and unflattering - a classic item maybe, but as the years have passed, seemingly not classic enough.

Le Smoking 1966

Yet the black trouser, with or without its jacket, remains a perennial favourite on the catwalk, and both Raf Simons at Dior and Hedi Slimane at Saint Laurent (he's dropped the Yves) have reinvented it for the 21st Century in a way that just makes me lust after a pair all over again. Simons has combined them with the Dior Bar jacket for his tux redux, whilst Slimane has produced them in both wool and buttersoft leather that I am coveting (in my dreams). Further down the rock chick scale Isabel Marant has her own boho version but it is the classic slimcut wool version that will stand the test of time.

Raf Simons for Dior Haute Couture A/W 2012

Dior Ready to Wear S/S 2013

Hedi Slimane for Saint Laurent S/S 2013

Pre Fall 2013 Saint Laurent

Isabel Marant in her own design for S/S 2014

If the French fashion houses are where to find the perfect pair, then it is to les Françaises we need to look for the best way to wear them. From Catherine Deneuve to Inès de la Fressange, from Charlotte Rampling (I know she's English but she is peerless in her French dress sense) to Emanuelle Alt they all wear a black trouser or full tux with consummate ease, dressing it up or down with that Gallic insouciance that I find so seductive (and know that I will never master). As Deneuve herself once commented: “The thing about a tuxedo is that it is virile and feminine at the same time.” In other words - gentlemen, watch out.

Catherine Deneuve with Yves Saint Laurent in the original 'Le Smoking'

Ines de la Fressange - Paris Fashion Week S/S 2014

Charlotte Rampling - Photo: girlsinsuits.tumblr.com

Emanuelle Alt Paris Fashion Week S/S 2014

Of course the high street has come a long way in the past 20 years and there are now a myriad lower price point versions of the black trouser (suit) to choose from. I keep trying the odd pair on, in the vain hope that they might do the trick, yet they remain unable to deliver on their promise, so back on the rail they go and my quest continues. Couture truly is a cut above in this instance and Yves Saint Laurent's Le Smoking remains as alluring today as it first did 47 years ago, offering a glamour and sophistication that the high street just can't match. To quote the great man himself “For a woman, Le Smoking is an indispensable garment with which she finds herself continually in fashion, because it is about style, not fashion. Fashions come and go, but style is forever.” Never a truer word said.

Vive l'amour!

My Scottish adventure this weekend was a triumph of love over heartache, longing and defying the romantic odds, and I for one am still punching the air with the joy of it all. One of our dearest friends has finally found the girl of his dreams and we were there to celebrate with them and to affirm the long held belief that your soulmate does exist and is out there, waiting for you, if you just know where to look and can hang on long enough to find them.

Photo: Pinterest

 
Call me a romantic - I was a teenager in the 80's - but hey, who didn't want their best friend to shout "Way to go Paula!" as the Richard Gere of their dreams burst through the factory door and carried them off for a life of everlasting travel love? Whilst I didn't particularly want to marry myself an 'avia-tor', I firmly believed in 'the one' and spent a hell of a long time looking for him, and he finally showed up, in my fourth year at university, unassuming but gorgeous, funny and quirky (the first time I met him properly he had a folded sock in his jacket pocket having been unable to find a clean handkerchief - that sock has a lot to answer for...) and for some inexplicable reason he was interested in me. We made it as a couple beyond graduation and down to London, and the rest as they say, is history.

Photo: Rex Features

Now, after many years together and with the pitter patter of tiny feet an often deafening noise as their feet grow ever larger, it is easy to forget that first flush of love when we realized that our life had taken on new meaning, we were no longer on our own and we had indeed made it in the happiness stakes.  The minutiae of everyday life takes over whether we like it or not - we are now undeniably grown up - the 'sandwich generation' with young children and elderly parents to look after and we are having to juggle more with every passing year. True love and how it once felt gets to take a back seat, which is a sorry indictment of our priorities and how much time we have to ourselves these days - it's been a long time since we had a slow dance in the kitchen.

Photo: Pinterest

Whilst everyone has their own way of dealing with this - be it date nights, weekends away, anniversary surprises, post-it notes that say 'I love you' or just an unexpected kiss 'hello' or 'goodbye', it is good to be reminded that we were once so giddy with love we could hardly breathe and we didn't know how we would survive until we saw each other again.

Seeing someone you are close to finally find 'the one', and remembering that when it comes down to it, this is what truly matters, is a life and love affirming emotion that has made me stop and take stock of what English Gent and I have and what we are still capable of, so long as we make time for ourselves and remember where it all began and why.  To slightly misquote my other favourite 80's movie: nothing and 'nobody puts Baby (and Johnny) in a corner' and if we just stop and think about it, we are still dancing in the kitchen and having the time of our lives. 

Take me to the Beach

One of my first childhood memories is of being bent double, looking for shells on a windswept Scottish beach. I am about 5, we are traveling around the northernmost tip of the British Isles in a VW Camper van and I am happy as a (razor)clam. Brightly coloured sea glass, ebony mermaids' purses, periwinkles and wave tumbled pebbles all make their way into my pockets as the pull of the sea makes its way into my heart.

My sister and me on the beach, Cornwall 1968

Fast forward 40 or so years and my feelings haven't changed. Put me on a beach, whatever the weather and I am home. The wind in my hair, the taste of salt in my mouth, breathing in the ozone in big, hungry gulps - I definitely have the beach gene. My mother and sister share this love of the ocean and my boys are showing all the signs which makes me very happy - it's a family thing.

Le Crotoy, Baie de Somme

Sunset at Aberbach, Pembrokeshire

 
Our house is full of shells and other beach combing treasures from holidays past and I never lose the thrill of wondering what I might find on the next trip. Heart shaped pebbles bring good luck, and rare baby pink cowries (which were used as currency in days gone by) are said to be symbols of fertility. I remember finding some on the beautifully wild Scarista beach in the Outer Hebrides when we were thinking of starting a family and wishing on them with all my might. Looking back, I like to think they worked their magic.

Sea glass from Deia, Mallorca

English Gent knows and understands that the sea is part of who I am and that like a plant without water and light, I start to fade if I don't get my regular fix. So it's in the marriage contract that he takes me to the coast at least once a year (the quid pro quo is that he gets to go and play golf for a week, though I'm not sure the restorative quality is quite the same) and this Summer particularly, with all the intense sadness and emotions that we have experienced recently, being on the beach never seemed more important.

Clayeux-sur-Mer, Baie de Somme

The Baie de Somme in Picardy; Whitesands, Newport, Abermawr, Aberbach and Freshwater West in Pembrokeshire all played their part in healing and knitting us together tightly as a family. Whether swimming, playing beach cricket, building sand castles and forts, cloud watching, shell seeking, rock pooling, skimming stones, wave jumping or eating lobster rolls and Mr Whippy icecreams - beach life in all its comfort and simplicity really was just what the doctor ordered.

Cafe Mor, Freshwater West, Pembrokeshire

Freshwater West, Pembrokeshire

Freshwater West, Pembrokeshire

Freshwater West, Pembrokeshire

Mr. Whippy heaven

Now as the season of "mists and mellow fruitfulness" is upon us, we have one more seaside adventure to come up in Scotland this weekend, so we shall wrap up warmly, breathe in deeply, and make the most of the wild, raw beauty of the ocean, before shoring up the memories like layers of sand and dreaming of more to come.

Making our mark....however fleeting...

Style Muse - Stella Tennant

I know I've posted on my style crushes before - Stella McCartney and Jenna Lyons being two of them, but I'm keen to introduce a few new regular features to the blog, so I'm kicking off with 'Style Muse', and as London Fashion Week S/S '14 is in full swing, it seems only fitting that my first 'muse' is the very down to earth and beautiful Brit model and mother, Stella Tennant.

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

I have been an admirer of Tennant's style since way back in December 1993 when Steven Meisel shot a now legendary photoshoot for UK Vogue entitled "Anglo-Saxon Attitude." Featuring 'real' people chosen by the late, great stylist Isabella Blow, I remember being blown away by Tennant in all her grungy aristo-punk, nose-ringed glory. 

Vogue UK December 1993 - Photo: Steven Meisel

Vogue UK December 1993 - Photo: Steven Meisel

Vogue UK December 1993 - Photo: Steven Meisel

She was everything I wasn't (and 20 years later still is) - different, edgy, simultaneously feminine and androgynous and I loved the whiff of street style anarchy mixed with upper class elegance, which over time has become something of a Stella trademark. Tennant is after all the granddaughter of the Duchess of Devonshire, (the beautiful and stylish chatelaine of Chatsworth house and a Mitford sister to boot), which all adds up to a heady mix of 'Downton' and down town (if you'll pardon the pun).

Vogue UK - Photo: Mario Testino

The Duchess wrote very entertainingly about the above shoot as follows:

"Darling Paddy,
Stella came. We had to be together in a photo for Vogue's 90th birthday come Christmas. So one Mario Testino, famous photographer, came in a helicopter with a crew of makeup, hairdresser, “fashion editor”, etc from London.
I've got a really beautiful dress, grand evening, given me by Oscar de la Renta, so that was my kit. They bound Stella's legs, up to where they join her body, in tartan. A Union Jack flag hung from her waist & her top was what my father would have called meaningless.
Hair skewbald/piebald, all colours & stuck up in bits. THEN they produced “shoes” with 6 inch heels. More stilts - she could hardly put one foot in front of the other, wobbling & toppling.
We looked just like that Grandville drawing of a giraffe dancing with a little monkey. I was the monkey.
Much love
Debo
(Letter from In Tearing Haste: Letters Between Deborah Devonshire and Patrick Leigh Fermor)

A Mitford grandaughter through and through.

Vogue UK November 2005 - Photo: Tim Walker

After all these years, and despite taking time off to concentrate on her children,  at 43 Tennant is still hugely in demand as a model. In this youth-obsessed era that we live in, here is a woman who combines both her family (she is a mum of 4) and fashion lives with grace and ease,  and whose attitude to ageing is to totally disregard it, which I love. As hot new designer Joseph Altuzurra commented when casting Tennant in his first full-page ad for this year's US Vogue September issue:  “She’s really an Altuzarra woman because she has a life and four kids—she is who she is on her own terms. She lives in Scotland and is incredibly successful and there is a confident, unapologetic side to her. I didn’t want a 20-year-old model, I wanted someone who is our woman. Clothes are part of her life but not her entire life.”

A/W 2013 Altazurra - Photo Inez & Vinoodh

'On her own terms' sums Tennant up perfectly - she embodies that subtle sense of British eccentricity and 'I don't give a damn' attitude that I find so inspiring. To me she is the consummate fashion chameleon - no-one does punk or aristo-elegance like she does and regardless of who she is working with - Lagerfeld, Testino, Bruce Weber et al, she remains true to herself - one classy lady.

Valentino Haute Couture for the WSJ - Photo: Daniel Jackson

Vogue UK September 2012 - Photo: Mario Testino

Vogue UK September 2011 - Photo: Javier Vallhonrat

Vogue US September 2010 - Photo: David Sims

Her latest Vogue shoot in July of this year was photographed and styled by her good friend Bay Garnett and offers us a snapshot of her family life in Scotland. Her comment about her children's bedrooms made me laugh - I'm afraid I'm somewhat the same about what goes up on the walls of my boys room...  She's as much at home yomping in a field as she is on the catwalk, plus her love of  Scotland and the sea and her attitude to life in general only make me like her more. Yup, I've got a proper girl crush going on.

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

Vogue UK July 2013 - Photo: Bay Garnett

You can keep your Caras and your Kates, as all eyes are on Britain's fashion exploits this week, there's only one girl for me - for your brains, beauty, mothering style and knock 'em dead attitude Stella - you're a star.