I hope you had a great Christmas!

Ha, I'm back! (And quite surprised to see I did actually manage a blog post at the start of the month; I thought I hadn't done any). I hope your December has been brilliant – I've been keeping up with people on Instagram, but that's not the same as the actual conversation of blogging, isn't it? Few of us use IG as a vehicle for thoughts and ideas. I do like it, as when life is hectic there's something soothing about the whirl of pretty things and happy friends, but blogging meets a deeper need. (Don't ask me why I still use Twitter, "I'm a bloody masochist" may be the answer there...)


Anyway, December was in many ways not as hellish as I'd expected. I had three print deadlines in three weeks. Yes, yet again I had possibly the worst schedule of any editorial production bod in my company, which meant working some evenings and weekends. Despite that, I didn't actually need the beta-blockers I got from my doctor (they help me manage my anxiety), though we did get through most of the food we'd premade and frozen. Mr Robot is an absolute saint, but even he won't want to cook every day, so having the frozen stuff means we didn't resort to pizza delivery when tired. On top of work I had a couple of parties (one for my company, one for games journos in this area from any firm), went to see the new Star Wars with the Official PlayStation Magazine team, and organised a collection at work for the local food bank. I was utterly flattened by the end of it, and my blogs had to go to the wall for the month, but I did it. And I've taken an extra week off so have a fortnight to get over Hell Month.

Mr Robot and I always go full-on for Christmas. Since he lost his mum he hasn't had many people to buy for, so gives me a deluge of presents. And that's not counting the saucy lingerie he gave me before Christmas (as he ruefully admitted that was more a gift for himself, so he shouldn't give it to me on the big day) or the tub of Haribo he stashed in the living room and then forgot about. Shortbread, new pyjamas, turkish delight, earrings, an incredible perfume... he spoiled me. My big present was four metres of incredible peacock-print velvet which I'd been planning to treat myself to. He bought whatever the company selling it had left so I couldn't buy any! You can see it here, below my least expected present, a cookbook by Vincent Price. (How cool is that?)

The velvet feels incredible and I'm still mulling over what to make with it. I'm thinking of a 60s-style shift dress with emerald green scarf collar in silk, but that will still leave around a couple of metres. So... matching bolero? Mini skirt for when I want the velvet but a full dress is too much? People have suggested a coat, but I don't know what I have that would go under a peacock velvet coat, and I'm not sure I have the skills to make a coat anyway. I'm in no rush to use the velvet, so will keep thinking it over. What would you do with it?

I've also bought myself a few things. I needed a new pair of black brogues, and my old Clarks pair get so much wear it made sense to get a brand-new pair. They more than earn their keep. Not so sure about the practicality of snakeskin-patterned ankle boots I got in the sale, but they really are pretty. I also bought myself a blue cord miniskirt. I'd had it in mind to make a mustard one but couldn't find the right pattern, wasn't sure if I had enough time either, and then found the blue one on sale. It goes with lots of my things and will definitely be worn. And I had a voucher, which is how I came to acquire these pyjamas in an incredibly loud, painterly paisley print. Those speak to my secret dream of being a bohemian 1920s type drifting around in loungerie, eternally somewhere between going to a party and going to bed.

I am feeling a little guilty for buying new things but... I'm still not able to get into my vintage clothes. I'll be back in the gym and back on the salads in the new year, but that's no guarantee that my vintage will fit. I did think I should get rid of it, but I love it. And over this break I've been reflecting on how I have a terrible tendency to change to suit other people or fade into the background, and that's probably part of the reason my mental health hasn't been brilliant in 2019: I've been erasing myself. So I've got my new stuff, which I bought because I liked it, and I'm keeping my vintage because ditto. I'm going to try to be truer to myself in 2020, and that means more sewing, reading, watching films and blogging – and more time reading my pals' blog, because when everything felt awful at times, knowing there was this bunch of amazing, stylish, independent women out there who were being fabulous in their own way and not giving in to the pressures of the world was a massive source of strength to me.

You're a blogger? YOU'RE A BLOODY ANGEL. Have a fantastic 2020.