This year I have been making a lot of New Year’s resolutions.
This IS the year when I will become more organised, keep my home and work space clean and tidy, get things done instead of procrastinating and leave no article of clothing (from me or the children) festering and breeding into a pile on the floor.
Yes I will be slimmer, fitter, more attractive and turn back time, all that is a given, but on top of all of that I WILL KEEP IT TOGETHER AT ALL TIMES!
Having once read an article that you can tell a lot about a woman from the shape of her handbag I carefully analysed my favourite. Small, boxy, sleek and sophisticated with nice shiny silver buckles and zips. The outward appearance of the very essence of organised chic.
Sadly, as the article also told me, this meant that on the inside I was absolutely (not to mention totally and utterly) the reverse.
The bag was a mere reflection or symbol of the ‘me’ I was seeking to project into the outside world, in a vague attempt to masque my true identity.
Shapeless, shabby and disorganised then? Yep, definitely more ‘me’. But I could not deny the attraction to all things opposite and as any self-help guru worth their salt will tell you, you have to ‘fake it until you make it’. The faking I can do (admittedly only in short bursts) and sure, I might not have ‘made it’ yet, but that must simply mean that a little more faking is required?
So casting an eye around my home, I took the radical decision that this year shapeless and scruffy will be moving out and sleek and sophisticated will most definitely be moving in, welcomed with open arms. Then *hopefully* thus inspired, the rest of me will follow suit.
But then it hit me. What about comfort. Comfort, my old friend. Was I really willing to forgo comfort in favour of organised sophistication? A resounding no. Clearly this has been at the very heart of the issue all along. But surely, surely there is a way to combine the two?
No pain, no gain has always been the mantra of my kind. From soliciting admiring glances from on-lookers at the length of heel (and corresponding crushing of toe) of the latest sky scraper shoes through to fingers burned to a crisp in an attempt to whip up an ‘effortless’ meal with which to impress guests … we’ve done it all and in doing so have conditioned ourselves to believe that there can be no achievement without some agony.
Feeling a little disheartened at the prospect of a chic yet somehow comfortless home I went on-line to explore my options.
My favourite arm chair had seen better days. The kids had used it as every kind of den and assault course you could imagine. Its arms were worn, it’s seat ‘crushed’ and its upholstery more than a little scuffed. That was the place to start I decided, but what on earth could I replace it with that offered comfort and sophisticated style? Much googling later and I had the answer nailed. A tub chair!
A chair that offered everything I looked for in a handbag (minus the buckles and zips?) together with the longed for … comfort!
Oh my.
Now I all need to do is update the décor of my room, transforming it from the canvas of an overly artistic two year old to the perfect back drop for my new tub chair. Do I keep the walls simple and use the chair to introduce a splash of colour, or keep the chair simple and go mad on the walls? Decisions, decisions.
Perhaps I need to think very carefully about the ‘me’ I want to project, after all I don’t want to be giving too many of my secrets away!
Nicola Wilson is a mommy blogger from the UK, she is currently working for TubChairs.com part time whilst running a family and looking after her children. Nicola has a huge interest in home design and decor.