Archive for the ‘Sensible Reasoning’ Category

Catering for All Sizes in the Fashion Market

I watched the telly the other day and got engrossed in a programme about the fuller figure. The programme wasn’t only about size 16 and size 18 but actually built itself on size 22 and larger and it revealed quite a lot about having ‘followers’. Now this information was quite new to me but I could get the general gist of what having blog sites and taking part in social media does for the population at large.

Yes, there are lot of large ladies and gentlemen out there and, yes, just like the more average sized population, they want to buy clothes which make them feel good. Okay, in the UK, Evans has been around for the size 16 + for many years but the programme spoke of Yours and of Milk, two companies who are now also seeing the profits to be found in catering for the much fuller figure.

What interested me was that, while these companies were trying to find suitable ‘large’ models to display their wears, they were also interested in what following these ladies had through their online presence. The companies wanted to tap into the prospective model’s world audience as, having such a following, they could only benefit through such advertising.

But the programme also addressed whether using such models would have a negative effect on healthy eating, whether being grossly overweight would no longer be seen as a problem and whether courting such fashion was sending a bad image to the world.

It’s arguable, isn’t it? But business is business and, if a target audience’s needs are to be met, surely that is simply business. And, underweight, within ‘acceptable’ limits, or overweight, we are all in search of looking and feeling good, aren’t we?

Thick Toilet Paper or Thin Toilet Paper – that is the question.

I don’t ask a lot of life and the smallest of things give me pleasure and that’s why, when I started paying a little more for toilet roll, I felt as though I had cone up in the world. Mmm, cushioned toilet paper and with a design I liked but, alas, a programme on UK television last week (The Wright Stuff) had a discussion on the aforesaid necessity and it seems that buying the thicker stuff means more trees have to go the journey. I’m still trying to get my head round how the thinner paper will be a more friendly option, as surely I will have to use more (squares) to achieve the same result ….. .

I think I’ll go and have a look at that bidet in my bathroom, to see how it works …. .

I Don’t Know How to Turn on the Telly


And it seems I’m not alone.

I was watching a series on television last night and the man, whose wife had left him, asked her if she would come back to him, as he didn’t know how to switch the television on.

Oh dear, I better start being extra nice to my hubby, as I could find myself with the same problem.

You see, we  live in Spain, in an area where you can’t get Sky TV but we’ve come across a nifty little device which, via an unlimited internet connection, will allow you to see all of those wonderful UK programmes, as well as US, Turkish and many more.

And it’s not easy.  Okay, it’s called streaming and I understand the principle but, when you find yourself accidentally back into your stand alone Spanish channels, it’s not easy to get back into the streaming system.

Mmm …. I’ll cater to his every whim …. .


The Definition of ‘Faith’

I’ve just downloaded a book I found on Kindle, one of those that was first published over one hundred years ago, and found an amazing description of the word faith:-

Faith is the head chemist of the mind.  When faith is blended with the vibration of thought, the subconscious mind instantly picks up the vibration, translates it into its spiritual equivalent and transmits it to infinite intelligence, as in the case of a prayer.

And faith isn’t only about prayer.  It’s about anything which you have a great desire for and wish to commit yourself to, making it your new future route through life.  So, it could be a profession, a desire to become rich by some idea of your own, or maybe to achieve success with a qualification or a job etc. etc..

All you have to do is believe you already have it and act accordingly.  I know you’re getting a sniff of the law of attraction here and you could be right.  So start making plans for your main goal and let me know when you arrive there.


Do Clothes Maketh a Man / Woman?

I am sure you will have heard the phrase the ‘clothes do not maketh a man’, implying that you can’t make yourself important simply by dressing so. Then there’s ‘you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’ and ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ etc. etc.. So, we are who we are and I can live with that. Yet, I’ve just had the strangest of experiences over the last week, which remind me of a similar experience I had around 1990 and, in both of these, it was the clothes that made the memory important.

In 1990, my partner was a man who proved to be incredibly jealous and, in my job as a supervisor in a civil service office, I had responsibility for both men and women. Now, this didn’t go down well with (let’s call him) Chump, for want of a better name. As time passed, jealousy raised its head and I realised that, if I wanted to talk abut my day, Chris(topher) was going to have to be Chris(tine) and so on. I hate anything close to my neck (I always say that I must have been hanged in an earlier life ….) but ‘v’ necks were ruled out in favour of round necks, while skirts became about ten inches longer (knee-length to maxi).

When I eventually saw sense, and called a halt to that stressful and, indeed, dangerous, relationship, it dawned on me that I had indeed changed my wardrobe for clothes that I didn’t feel good in. Needless to say, when I realised this, I went back to wearing what made me feel good about myself.

Well, last week, something happened. After almost nine years of living in Spain, I now realise that I need to live in England again. When we came here in February 2006 to live in the countryside of Spain, Hubby and I said that we hoped we would never find ourselves dressing the same. Our neighbours work in the fields, old women push wheelbarrows and herd cows and, naturally, they wear old clothes day in and day out.

Well, somewhere along the line of time, I think Hubby and I both lost the plot. We stopped dressing up, my trusty high-heel steeds were laid to rest and flat shoes and baggy trousers became the norm for us both.

I think that, for me, realisation that I am in the wrong place has been happening for some time, maybe three years or so. Anything that used to seem good about living here is now cast as a negative, things I want can’t be got her in the backwater of Spain and I miss people.

We were in England last week. We bought twenty kilos of goodies to bring back to Spain, I got myself into any conversation I could possibly find, just for the pleasure and, I am pleased to say, Hubby and I started singing from the same hymn sheet as to where our future should be.

Since getting back to our home in Spain, I’ve started dressing differently, I’ve started fastening my hair up and I sought out and polished up (I chore I hate) my trusty steeds. Then, and only then, it dawned on me that my change of dress sense made me feel much more positive about the future.

So clothes might not maketh a man or woman but the right ones can definitely make you feel good about yourself.

The Future is Ours to Change!

For those of you who don’t already know, I am a UK lady of sixty one now living in the north-west part of Spain. I always refer to this area as the outback because, unlike most people’s ideas of Spain, which is usually of the southern tourist areas, Galicia in the north-west is countryside, it’s lakes and rivers and this area is indeed known as ‘the land of a thousand rivers’. For population and for services, I would liken this area to the Lake District. In a triangle of three villages very close to each other (Hubby and I live in one of them), so close that we can shout to each other, the population is ten. If it wasn’t for the fact that our postman’s mother lives in one of these villages, we wouldn’t necessarily get our post the day it was due to be delivered. There is no post box, no public telephone, no shop and no bar and anything I haven’t mentioned which you think we might have, we haven’t.

Public water? No. Ours comes from the hills, via a hosepipe, after having first been cleaned via a plastic pop bottle which has holes in it>

Gas? No.

Electricity. Yes but a very low potential, so we can’t do the washing and boil the kettle at the same time.

Public telephone lines? No. We would have to drive eight miles to find the nearest public telephone box.

Well, after eight years into my change feom England to Spain, I can officially confirm that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. While I was busy in the first four years, I didn’t really notice anything but, in the last four, I have.

I’ve been writing a monthly column for my local newspaper in England and, today, it dawned on me. After thirty two columns, in which I give a point to either Spain or my home town in England based on the content of my article, the score is currently at ten for Spain and twenty two for where my heart obviously still lies.

Need I say more?

It’s a strange feeling and, I suppose (and I speak through experience), rather like divorce. You put your heart and soul into it, it starts off feeling very good indeed and then, after time, that good feeling goes but without your realising that things have changed.

After a (longer) while, you start to notice things that don’t suit you. Maybe, blinded by the pleasure, they never did suit you but, after a long enough period of experience, yes, there it is, staring you in the eye.

Now, you either ignore it and hope that it will go away (that was my first reaction in the divorce), or you start to analyse what is going on (my reaction, this time). I can now liken the feeling of discomfort to what it must feel like to have a near death experience; you’re looking down on yourself and you can see what is happening but the choice for what happens next doesn’t seem to be yours. You fear an unhappy end.

Well, we’re off to England next week and, who knows, we might just look at some houses ….. .

That’s life!

Ebola and the World

The Ebola situation is very worrying. I have been following the situation and see that the current deaths of around 3,000 far outweigh the total death counts from individual outbreaks in the past and now there is a threat to the world at large.

I remember hearing a quote on an American TV series, West Wing, where a remark was made that went something like, “Why is an American’s life worth more than an (other country)’s? The reply given was, “I don’t know but it is.”

My mentioning this quote has nothing to do with America but is simply a quote that has stuck with me always. If we break this down to understand what was being said, it meant that we don’t care about what happens to others if it isn’t happening to us.

Disability – ignore it if it isn’t knocking on your door.
Giving to charity – ignore it if it isn’t going to benefit you personally.
Ebola – let’s hope it goes away and doesn’t knock on our door.

These are common thoughts amongst the majority of us and quite often come about because the stress of our life is not giving us time to think, or we are having difficulty financing our own circumstances, never mind worrying about others.

I think older people view these questions with a little more thought and compassion, maybe because they’ve been there, done it and worn the tee-shirt. Older people know about, or have experienced, disability, they’ve found the need to support some charities because of losses in their own family circumstances and, well, Ebola, just what are we going to do about it? Indeed, is there anything we can do?

Well, take a look at Global Living, or any other organisation which is trying to save the people of Africa, and the rest of the world, which includes us, from Ebola. As they say, every little helps.