'Are you sick?': & other pale girl problems

Ok, Cards on the table time. Now I don't like to sound self indulgent or a moaning Minnie, people who feel sorry for themselves have a tendency to annoy the hell out of me but as I sit here, I find myself having my very own pity party. 


This is due to my affliction you see. It's an affliction I've had since birth and it has tortured me for most of my adult life. Now, don't get me wrong here, I'm not alone in this cursed existence, in fact, there are thousands just like me, suffering every day. It's only these fellow victims that can sympathise with me and my daily struggle.
That is, the eternal struggle of being pale.

Us Irish girlies come in lots of different shapes, sizes and shades. Embracing your differences is the eternal goal but to be honest - sometimes it's easier said than done! The life of us pale girls is one filled with many things but the following things seem to be the pattern for most sufferers:

'Are you feeling okay?' (aka 'The most annoying question to ask somebody who is pale')
We're feeling grand. We've had a busy week and forgot to pick up some Johnson's Holiday Skin in the chemist so we've ran out. This is simply our natural skin tone which happens to look transparent & slightly blue tinged.  We feel self conscious enough about it so please refrain from drawing attention to it. Cheers.

(This rule also applies to vivid bruises on our skin - we're not being abused and we know how ugly they look so please stop pointing them them out to us!)

Comparing limbs
Now this is an oldie for anybody pale who meets somebody with skin that's anyway darker than ours (so that'd be pretty much 90% of the population!) Sure, its only hilarious and mad craic to stick your arm out to compare your natural skin colour to ours. 

We're soooo happy you can feel good about yourself - who cares how depressing it is for us as long as you can laugh at the difference right?!

Make up companies LISTEN UP!!
Finding a shade of foundation that matches your skin tone is always tough but for us pale girls - it is the bane of our existence. Personally I have at least a half dozen foundations I have desperately purchased the lightest shade of foundation available (Ivory usually), tested in the store first, only to go home & end up looking a bit like this:

"You should try sunbathing!" 
Aw, thanks so much for the tip!! We've never thought of that!! 
No. This will not be successful. 

Being pale means you've learned from a young age that lying out in the sun to try to get a tan is a total and complete waste of time. 

"You might burn a bit but then it'll turn into tan!"

We will burn to a crisp in a matter of minutes and be raw red in pain for the following few days. Then our burns will fade...to pale once more. 
And please don't mention sunbeds to us as we we may want a tan but not with a side of skin cancer.

But here's the funny thing: what I view as an affliction; can also look amazing matched with confidence and a glowing smile...

 (or in Dita's case: bags of attitude!)

In the end, it's pretty simple. Being pale isn't really the problem at all, it's me and my confidence (or lack there-of) that makes me see being pale as a problem.

I honestly don't know if my opinion will change but until the day I become truly comfortable in my Celtic complexion, I will probably follow my life's motto regarding most awkward situations: 

Fake it 'till you make it.

Forever in the Sky,
Lucy x

Slane for beginners!

All that reminiscing in my last post (check out Lucy's 90's Style Guide click here to read!) is still going on in Lucyland, so it wouldnt be a trip down memory lane if I didn't do a post on Slane.

Ah Slane! A day and venue that means many different things to many different people.

However the moment Lord Henry opens up his backyard to us regular folk for an auld session is generally considered the official start of the summer music festival season in Ireland.

My first experiences of an outdoor concert was Slane - a rite of passage for a 16 year old Lucy.

Slane was a mere 45 minute drunken coach trip away so for anybody who lived in my area it was where we cut our festival teeth.

Unfortunately, I won't be making my annual pilgrimage to worship this weekend due to lack of funds but I thought it only necessary to prepare any new attendees by delving into my vast (and foggy) knowledge on Slane and impart my wisdom onto any Slane first timers this coming weekend:

1) Eat!

Yes - I know I sound like your mam but in all the anticipation of the day, it's an easy one to forget!

Drinking your weight in alcohol is generally the common goal but if there's nothing to soak it up then you're going to be thoroughly ossified before you even get to the castle

This year, the promoters are upping the stakes (and being total meanies!) with a ban on ALL FOOD & BEVERAGES entering the castle grounds. That includes water and snacks. Ridiculous right?!!!

Eat a decent breakfast before you leave. Load up on water before you approach the gates and keep a cereal bar to eat later tucked in your sock if wearing wellies or maybe hide it in your bag (In a sunglasses case!) 

You'll be christened 'The Lightweight' and your loyal friends will have to babysit you for the day so make sure you don't go with anybody who hates you because then you're really screwed.

Plus you'll have no clear memories of the day and essentially would have paid €80 plus the cost of alcohol to basically get drunk in a field.

(Fainting is another consequence of drinking on no grub & little water. Something I discovered at both Oxegen 2006 and Slane 2011 with rather embarrassing medical tent visits. Apparently vodka is not a water subsititute?!! I know! Whuda thunk it?!)

2) Newsflash: You're not at Coachella darlin'

'Festival wear' is a big thing - shur there's a whole section in Penneys dedicated to it!

And while you watched Kendall & Kylie strutting around in their finest beach/boho garb at Coachella this year, please remember that you are going to a field. In Ireland.

It's going to be cold, damp and muddy so bikini's should be replaced with wellies and a rolled up rain poncho.

Also leave the heels at home! You're going to be on your feet all day & the walk from the bus to the castle entrance is odjiously long so give your poor tootsies a chance.

3) The Smell

On this day, your lung capacity will truly be put to the test.

Deep sea divers will have nothin' on your skills after you've spent a day using the Portaloos here where your breath holding-in abilities will be truly amaze and astound you.

Antibacterial gel and wipes are essential here along with trusty loo roll.

(If there's a fee charge private Portaloo company around, I'd definitely consider them. They're cleaned after every use and the few yoyo's is worth it when you realise the emotional trauma you're avoiding! Electric Picnic last year taught me this and made my days there so much more comfortable)

4) The ancient art of The Sneak

Unless you really like overpriced warm beer, you're going to try to bring drink with you. Anbody who's been to a festival or outdoor concert before will tell you that security guards are like sniffer dogs at the entrance of the venue.

This year is no exception with a ban on ALL food and drink.

A bag search & quick pat down are fairly normal practice but this year all bets are off so some serious imagination is needed in advance!

Because your Penneys bra can only hold so many cans...

What maxi skirts were invented for!

'Her names Tee'quila - her dad's Mexican'

Everybody has their own tricks but ensuring you queue at a busy time may help as security are under pressure to get people in and will hopefully be less likely to search you as thoroughly.

5) Power up!

This should probably be No.1 on my list but I've left it last so it'll stay fresh in your wee drunken minds -

Make sure you're phone is fully charged before you leave home!!

If you lose your friends in the crowds, you want to know what time Hozier is onstage at or you get the shift and want to meet up later in the day/remember what he looked like - you will need your phone!

Don't rely on charging facilities at the venue unless you really like queuing for hours and hours. If you do - then go for it you'll be delighted!

A power bank is a must if your phone battery is in anyway like mine (you can get ones in Penneys for about €8 & remember you need to charge it up at home first too!) 

A meeting point is also a handy back up plan B if ye all get separated too

Plus an emergency €50 tucked into your wine bra would do no harm either just in case you lose your wallet or bag!



Remember to leave those selfie sticks at home too and, as much as I'm sure it'll break your heart, you'll have to tell your favourite garden gnome that he can't come either....

It's safe to say Saturday will be an amazing day & to all ye making this years pilgrimage to worship at the altar of Foo, I hope my little Slane education has been of some help...

I'm not. Even a little bit. At all....(*she sobs)

Forever in the Sky,

Lucy x

Lucy's 90's style guide

Growing up in Ireland is special. Lots of people attest to the idea that there's no place in the world quite like Ireland. In no other place would a bale of hay bring such delight and a wooden kitchen implement bring such fear when you were growing up. For me, my late 90's adolescence consisted of three main things:

The fragrance

There were two fragrances that were the epitome of chic and sophistication when I was growing up. No junior disco or trip to the cinema was complete without covering yourself head to toe in a mist of 'So...?' or 'Ex'cla-ma'tion!' and if you were a simpler kind of gal, half a can of 'Impulse' body spray usually did the trick.

(On a side note: I regularly raided my big sister's stash of these causing rows between us on an almost daily basis - so I take this opportunity to let her know that I plan to begin stockpiling Ex'cla-ma'tion for her by way of apology - ya know, because I think a 31 year old can never have enough of the stuff...!)

The Hair

The character of Rachel Green in 'Friends' has an awful lot to answer for here. The cut was desired by all but few could find a hairdresser who was high enough to snip it properly (Jen Aniston revealed her hairdresser at the time was stoned when he created 'The Rachel' read here)


But at least you could get her highlights, right?! I thought so too.

Cue to bottles of 'Sun In' being bulk bought or raiding your mam's presses for some lemons and lying in the sun with smelly hair. The result of this was generally a dry frizzly orange look that looked...erm...unique!


The Clothes

 

My adolescence saw many MANY fashion crimes but denim was my downfall. Every girl in my town had at least one pair of 'Nope' or 'Susst' flared jeans (and O'Neills tracksuit bottoms) - all ripped and trodden at the hems as the motto back then was: 'The baggier, the better!'

(Special shout out goes here to my best friend Aine - whose purchase of a floor length denim jacket inspired me to buy one too & look amazing throughout the summer of 1999)

That's the basics covered! What were your fashion tips growing up?
I'd love to hear them (we could all be mortified together!)

Forever in the Sky

Lucy x

Milk & One Sugar

I'm pretty sure yesterday's wait for the historic marriage referendum results was an anxious one for many people in our wee country and when anxiety and stress hit - you know it only calls for one thing...
 

   
Addictions are no laughing matter. Revolving and adapting your life around something is, oftentimes, not a very wise move but everybody has them. Those little things in life that can bring us relief and happiness in even the most chaotic of times. I, myself, am no stranger to these impulses and the crippling desire of addiction. While I have many of them, one addiction has the power to weaken me like no other. Liquid happiness. The nectar of the Gods. Heaven in a cup. Call it what you will, the fact of the matter remains:

Hi, I'm Lucy and I have a (tea) drinking problem.
Seriously I love bloody the stuff and drink at least 5 cups a day!

Now I'm sure that this little addiction can be put down to many things, but the fact I've been raised in Ireland is probably the number one factor causing my chronic tea habit.

Tea is an inherent part of our culture and all that defines being Irish. Countless surveys, regarding our love of all things tea, have told us what we have long known already-few can beat our little country for the love we have for a nice cuppa.

Visitors to our fair isle are often amused how we treat this hot beverage. In times of happiness, sadness, stress or relaxation, there is no situation that can't be made easier than with a nice cup of tea. Personally, I can't recall how my own addiction began but suffice to say it happened at an early age.

In any social situation, I remember tea was always an integral factor, offered to the house visitor upon their arrival. If politely declined it was usually followed by some variation of attempted persuasion. The character of Mrs. Doyle wasn't created by accident, instead epitomising every Irish mammy when faced with visitors.

 More often than not those who refused the offer of a cup of tea were met with slight suspicion.

'I mean, sure who in there right mind doesn't like tea?!!' would be whispered in the kitchen and, if nothing was said, you can be sure it was being thought.
In our fair land, the fact remains: it's never really considered a question of 'if you'd like tea?' but rather 'how would you like your tea?'

Now uttering the statement 'I love tea' is easy. But each person has their own reasoning behind their affection of the delicious cupan tae. Comfort and familiarity is oftentimes the most common reason but a simple fact has been ingrained in us by generations:

EVERYTHING is better with a cup of tea.

After all, didn't The Lord himself pause for a nice cup of tea before giving himself up for the world?!

Even the act of packing tea bags, when travelling or even just going on a quick holiday, Is a standard task for any tea lover and this typical scenario is even used in tea advertising -(Barry's tea, I'm looking at you!). Growing up this was a familiar sight when I watched puzzled as my parents packed a box of it for trips away, but sure enough, my addiction has come full circle, ensuring I now do the exact same thing. I don't doubt tea in foreign countries is delicious but quite simply, it's just not as nice!

Along with how you take your tea (mine's milk and one sugar if you're offering!), the critical question may be asked: Barry's or Lyons? This tends to open a proverbial can of worms as each addict has a preference and will fiercely defend and stay loyal to their cause to the bitter end. Many uneducated riffraff may claim there is no difference in brands but a true tea connoisseur knows better. Personally I'm a Barry's girl. Lyons, while being tasty,  quite simply just isn't as delicious as my best friend Barry! While my loyalty has been tested while visiting Lyons loving households, I have always remained true to my old friend. In life and love, this will continue and while the future can be unpredictable, one fact remains:

When in doubt, get the kettle out.

Forever in the Sky
Lucy x

Love in equal measures

Well, unless you've been living under a rock the past while, you'll know tomorrow (22nd of May) is kind of a big day.

George Clooney's new movie is being released nationwide.

Oh and the most controversial Irish referendum of the 21st century will take place.

Tomorrow marks the end of months of heated campaigning by both sides over a legal change to the definition of marriage. This step has been taken by other countries worldwide but lil' old Ireland gets to be the first country to make the implementation based on public vote - a pretty cool prospect in my opinion.

I've voted in referendums for the past decade, never really paying much attention to what I was voting for and oftentimes going through the motions in order to appease my mam and dad and look like a functioning adult. Because proper adults vote, don't they?

When I first became aware of the topic of this referendum, for the first time ever, I was genuinely interested. Maybe because its a topic that is seen as relevant for modern Ireland. But after a while thinking about it, I realised while I knew it was important socially, I also felt it personally.

Now, I should probably say: I'm not gay or bisexual. But in the past two years, I became an auntie to two gorgeous little nephews. These two little dudes have the ability to make my heart melt and truthfully I would do pretty much anything for the two of them. This feeling came as quite a shock as growing up, I was never particularly maternal or gushy around babies so when my sister had her two little boys I wasn't really prepared for the fact I would fall head over heels for the two of them.

For the first time ever, I approached this referendum with what it would mean for the future of our wee country and my two little nephews growing up in it. I'm in a relationship at the moment and while marriage is far from my thoughts - in the future if my boyfriend and I wanted to get married it would be a very easy thing to do (if we rob a bank!)

So my mind wandered to my nephews. Now, at the tender ages of 1 week and 2 years old respectively - their future is full of possibilities. I want the world for them both and I hope whatever happens, they're happy and healthy. And that they could marry whoever they fall in love with, regardless of gender.

Because this referendum isn't about adoption and surrogacy, a popular argument of the No side which even the impartial referendum commission has confirmed will not be affected AT ALL.

What tomorrow is about is one thing only.

 Equality - plain and simple.

So let's make history.


Forever in the Sky
Lucy x

Blamin' it on the Weatherman

Well, it's that time of year guys and gals! The freezing temperatures of winter are (kinda) over and spring has sprung! Okay, okay yes, I know that it's the month of May and technically its meant to be Summer, but if your like me and you still judge your seasons by calendar school years - then it ain't summer until June. (And before you ask: I'm not a teacher nor do I have any kids - I'm just stuck in my ways I think!)

The idea of '4 seasons in one day' is a bit of a mad concept to most people but if you happen to live in Ireland, its just your average Wednesday! Our volatile (and sometimes just plain ridiculous!) weather is seriously moody and living daily under her mood swings is a serious challenge. Waking up in early morning to fog and ice, grabbing your sunnies by midday to walking home in the wind and rain is a fairly common scenario during Spring in our little land.

For most girlie girls, this time of year is filled with frustration as trying to pick an outfit for the day is virtually impossible because whatever you chose to wear that morning, at some point during the day, you will find it inappropriate because of mother nature. Do I potentially sweat in boots or get soaked in ballet flats? Swelter in my leather jacket or freeze in my trench coat? Its basically a lose/lose scenario so anybody I encounter who looks stylish and comfortable has my serious respect because it's something I so wish I could master!

The past month, I've been mostly in my Converse runners - my pretty ballet flats gathering dust in my wardrobe because of my determination that they will not be destroyed by rain and instead kept dry and beautiful for the (eventual) summer I hope and pray is coming otherwise I may need to bulk buy my trusty cons...or emigrate!

Forever in the Sky

Lucy x

Nailing the habit

'Bad habits are the hardest to break'

When I think of habits, more often than not, it's bad ones that spring to mind. Making it to my twenties means along the way I've lost childhood ones and gained adult ones. In my little world shopping and excessive tea consumption reign supreme along with drinking and social smoking - an activity that I know is both gross and pointless.

Giving up habits is seriously tough - especially if you enjoy them or find them comforting. I'm currently trying to break one habit I've had my entire life. I'm a nail biter.
Being a nail biter growing up never really bothered me - only biting them when I was anxious and nervous. But as I reminisce, I think my childhood must have fraught with anxiety because I don't have a single memory of ever having long nice looking nails but at the time I honestly never felt too bothered by it.

Cut to 2015 and nail art is a big trend the past few years. Now getting 'yo' nails did' is seen as a necessity along with getting your roots done. Years of trying to break my biting habit led to a recent discovery. Where everything else failed, manicures prevailed. Turns out, for some reason, when my nails look pretty and polished - I automatically stop biting them. Yep, I'm a weird one and it only took 29 years to discover this!

Today was my newly regular trip to my local nail bar in Tullamore (Siobhan's Nail & Beauty) for a glossy coat for my ravaged nails. A baby pink Gelish was applied expertly by the lovely Siobhan and took a mere 15 minutes for polish that would last three weeks! That's 3 whole weeks of decent lookin' nails baby! A nail biters dream! Delighted with my new talons, I skipped out the door forgetting the moment my inexperience showed completely as I awkwardly retrieved my wallet from my bag trying not to smudge them. (Yes, I'm aware this is unnecessary as Gelish dries instantly but I'm still a total rookie after 29 years of shelter from the experience of a manicure!)

Who knows? Maybe one day I won't need to fork out in order to fight my habit and will power will be enough. Until then, the next few months will consist of many things for me, however most likely, talking with my new pretty fabulous looking hands will be a predominant feature.

Apologies in advance!


Forever in the sky

Lucy x

Great Expectations

Lets face it: Pressure sucks. Work, social, family and every other kind of pressure is one of the major downsides of growing up nowadays. Trying to please colleagues, relatives, friends and everybody in between can be a pain in the ass sometimes and mastering the big P in these areas can be seriously tricky at times. Many wise ones advise to ignore the sources and try the best you can - because its impossible to please all of the people all of the time.

But what if its you pressuring you?

This seems to be my eternal dilemma. At the age of 29, I am in the final year of my twenties. Being in your twenties is generally a time where you begin your adult life. You're no longer a clueless teenager but you're new to the adult club so its okay for you to take awhile to adjust to your new role. I once read an advice column where the agony aunt responded to a dilemma by a confused reader in her twenties, by pointing out it was okay to be confused because 'your twenties are for figuring things out'.

That's the approach I took to my twenties and happily bobbed along through little experiences and situations without the need to establish myself as a proper adult in a career or a relationship. I was in a blissful bubble and any concerns of my life direction were explained away by my internal reassurance that I was still only in my twenties so it was perfectly normal not to have things figured out.

Well, turns out your twenties go pretty quickly. Like lightening fast. And that little pressure I felt about where I should be in my life is now a pretty big one I feel daily. When I entered my twenties, I knew nothing of what lay ahead of me but I had the reassurance that by the time I reached the eve of turning 30, I would have it all worked out - or at least a good idea of what I wanted of my future and be actively moving forward with my clear plan on how I was going to achieve this.

I always thought moving forward meant big dramatic actions and bold risks and opportunities and it was this thinking that pressurized me more than I thought. Rethinking my thinking is a daily struggle but I now understand that this belief is a truly ridiculous one and worst of all it's mostly inflicted by me onto me. Realizing this came as a shock. Surely I should be able to control my own thoughts? Downside of being an over thinker meant that is a laughable question but I did come to a small conclusion.

Any journey in any path, more often than not, begins with one step. And that's what I'm doing by setting up this blog. Writing is a passion along with many other little things in my life and while I'm a total newbie in the blog world, its my small step forward. And with time, and enough small steps, that  self judgemental voice in my head, might shut the hell up.

Forever in the Sky

Lucy x

Sweet Charity

I think somewhere there lies a secret chamber. This chamber holds many secrets but once a month, a meeting takes place. An evil one. Attended by all the billing companies. Electricity, gas, internet, phone all are in attendance as the conspire to align billing dates. Tax and insurance are represented too as evil maniacal laughs fill the room.

Now I don't have actual evidence that this place exists but as I look down at my post lying at my front door, I genuinely believe it does. When Beyoncé and her girlies say about 'Bills, bills, bills', I used to leap around the dance floor like a mad yoke to the catchy beat but the lyrics had no meaning at all. Bills? Sure that's what mam and dad are for!

For a self confessed shopaholic, bills are evil. These evil little things that arrive at your door and snatch your shopping fund. Okay, so yes, I guess electricity is probably a wee bit more important than those new shoes you've been drooling over but there are times even I question not taking the Carrie Bradshaw approach to the situation. Buying vogue instead of food because it fed her more - well that's all well and good but chances are she didn't live with a man at the time. And lassies, you all know no amount of issues of vogue makes it worth living with a 'hangry' fella.

So what's a gal to do??!

I need my fix and bills need paying so one quiet Monday afternoon, on a walk through my little town, I ventured into a charity shop. Now if years ago, I had seem me that afternoon I would have been a little disgusted. 'Charity shops are full of junk and a bit smelly, Lucy! WTF are you doing?!', would have been my thoughts. But desperate times call for desperate measures ladies, and my habit needed a fix.

Truthfully, I had no expectations of what I would find as I entered the shop but within minutes of browsing, I hit gold.

Not actual gold obviously but in fashion terms it was a little jackpot. Nestled in amongst some dodgy looking jumpers, A limited edition Zara blazer in my size. Now some of ye are thinking 'So?' right now but any gal who knows her fashion understands the significance of my find that day. In simple terms, if blazers were celebs, this jacket would be Kim Kardashian. A quick try on confirmed it fit like a glove.

The price? Seven yoyos baby!

I'm pretty sure the girl at the till though I was hopped up on drugs or something as I gleefully handed over my coins to her and skipped out the door with my lovely new blazer. I was delighted with myself having added a gorgeous new jacket to my wardrobe AND still being able to...you know...eat!

The merits of charity shops had been told to me for years by my dear mammy, who would always go into them for a rummage, but I just couldn't see the attraction. Who would want to wear second hand clothes bought in a dodgy smelling shop?! I mean do they even clean the stuff they get?! What if I buy something and the person who donated it sees me wearing it?! - were a few of my (now unfounded) concerns. Well, turns out when you're broke and/or looking for something that nobody else has (I'm looking at you Penneys!), a charity shop is a little goldmine.

Don't get me wrong, like panning for gold, there are good days and bad days but like any true shopaholic - I'm a trooper!


Forever in the Sky
Lucy x

The First Step...

Well, it happened. After much encouragement, I begin blogging. They say the first step is the hardest, don't they? And it's probably true too. After all, if your mam says it - well it must be. I'm first to admit I'm the queen of procrastination. If there was an award for putting things off, I'd be the clear winner.

Now it's cards on the table time. I know blogging is seen as a pretty easy thing to do nowadays. But for some reason, approaching doing one made me a little scared. I wish I could explain why but I honestly don't know why. I follow many blogs and love the concept of them but self doubt always tends to cast a shadow on my abilities.

Truth is, I'm beginning my blog late in the game. After over a year of thinking about it, I've decided to take the 'f*ck it!' approach and just give it a go.

This blog is a seed right now. I wish I could define what it will consist of but I think declaring such narrow terms in my first blog post kind of shoots myself in the foot a little. All I can say is that it will be from the heart. I'm a pretty terrible liar in general so my opinions and posts will always be as honest as possible. Even if you may not always agree with me or like what I write, it will always be an honest opinion and view. I think opinions are awesome and make life a little bit interesting no matter if they're good or bad. Don't get me wrong, I may not always agree with you, but if you're honest (and polite as I always hope to be too), then I think it makes for a good dynamic.

Life, I think, is a good description of what I intend to blog about. I hope to keep it a bit general too but my life is the life I know best, so a good portion of my posts will be on my experiences and adventures.

I hope my little seed grows with the right nurturing but I guess the only way to find out is to just begin....

Hi, I'm Lucy x