Will I Ever Be A Fancy Lady?

It's about that time of the year where I ordain "Stephen? This year I'm going to be a fancy lady!". It's always at that bit towards the end of summer when autumn is just around the corner. I see all the lovely autumn clothes in the shops. I start to obsess about being all fancy. The Mum who has her sh*t together on the school run and the business woman who people go "WOW SHE IS JUST SO FAAANNNNNCCCCYYYYYYYY". You know...the lady who has lovely leather boots. Manages to make a thick chunky knit look chic and casual all at the same time and knows just the right way to tie a scarf.

So this week operation 'Fancy Lady' has started. I've ordered make up online that I am determined to master for my 'fancy' meetings. Curling tongs (GHD NO LESS...ACTUAL GHD...OK there was 20% off and I had a voucher but I'm still fancy) that I will learn to use with ease and have effortlessly curly hair on the school run. I've invested in a new academic diary (marble and rose gold) and a desk planner to write all my fancy plans on. I've also written a list of goals. I am going to be as fancy as the fanciest lady in town, probably I dunno like Holly Willoughby. YAS THAT FANCY.

Well the GHD's didn't fooking work

But...we all know it's not going to happen is it? Leather boots are not a good look. Too high and my knees look bulbus, too low and my calves look voluptuous. Which is not a word one would like to use when describing ones fancy calves. My chunky knits go a bit bobbly and I can't for the fook of me work out how to effortlessly curl my hair. Oh and the scarf? Which you think looks so chic in the mirror makes you look five sizes bigger when you look back at photos. Also makes you a bit hot as you think you may be approaching the menopause.

I wonder why I feel the urge to be a fancy lady? I mean I am managing to survive without looking super fancy. I'm managing to get two children to school unscathed each day. My husband seems to think me not being fancy is OK. In fact if I got my sh*t totally together it would probably terrify him. He's grown accustomed to fish fingers and waffles. Also no one has burst into tears when I have turned up to a meeting in 'vintage' Matalan. Everything is ticking along just nicely without me being fancy (sidenote take a shot every time you read fancy).

But I have a craving to be a proper lady. One that doesn't mess up her academic diary so much she has to abandon it as she wrote all her events whilst being fancy in the wrong month. I want to 'throw on' a white t shirt, alongside my jeans and boots. The only thing I have ever 'thrown on' is leggings and a smock top when we are really late for school. So let me have my dreams. For this next month let me truly believe that my make up is going to be on fleek (I don't even think thats a word anymore). Let me dream my quest for the perfect boot is going to be fruitful. LET ME THINK I'M GOING TO BE AS FANCY AS HOLLY. And if you see me in a chunky knit say "oh fancy!" and ignore the bobbles around my armpits and my voluptuous calves.