Let me say before I begin that I am standing on my soap box; I whittled it myself; I am not generally known for my passivity and this is a blog post with an agenda – don’t say I didn’t warn you.

As some of you may know I’ve been refraining from buying any new clothes this year, the reasons for this are three-fold:

  1. I had too much stuff in my life and I was far to reliant on this stuff to make me happy so I decided I needed to stop filling my life with stuff and fill it with meaning and genuine happiness.
  2. I think that the disposable or ‘Fast Fashion’ society that we are now living in is bad for the environment.
  3. The price of clothes has gone, and continues to go, down and down, but the price of producing it is going up, so I had my questions about where this cost was being squeezed and had some nasty suspicions it might be at the expense of the people who make it. And then I watched this:

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How to…

…Lose Weight.

This is more of a prospective rather than retrospective blog post. I have gained weight. Just over half a stone. It’s not loads but it’s enough to cancel out some of my jegging choices…as well as some of my older dresses. I blame two things:

  1. Turning 26.
  2. Marriage (loving bastard).

Luckily for me I’ve managed, with little to no effort to remain a size 10 from about the last eight years. My mother told me of this evil myth called the metabolism, and in a prophetic, ghost story type way told me that one day it would creep up on me and ruin my life. It turns out that the day I turned 26 this evil myth materialised into reality and now I can no longer do up my trusty denim shorts (one of only two pairs of shorts I own – I live in Wales, any more would be excessive to say the least). Now, when I have put weight on in the past I’ve counteracted the swelling by running every day for two weeks and eating only scrambled eggs for breakfast and lunch, hey presto, a whole stone gone in a fortnight. So when I weighed myself about a month ago and felt a little unpleasant feeling in the pit of my larger than usual stomach as I realised the scales weren’t broken (I’d been trying to convince myself of this for a week) I set off on my scrambled egg mission. For two weeks I was the queen of poached or scrambled eggs, I didn’t even know how to make poached eggs before I started and now I’m epic at it. At the end of this fortnight I weighed myself and was deeply surprised to find that I had PUT ON WEIGHT!

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