I have been talking about decorating our sitting room since we moved in (Yes, I know that was over two years ago!), but I hadn’t quite got around to it yet.  We decorated (I say “we”, I definitely mean my husband) our bedroom before Christmas and used Farrow & Ball’s “Wevet”.  It instantly changed the light and feel in the room, so I knew it was the right shade for the sitting room too.  I can never quite get over how dark some parts of this house are; it’s facing the wrong way and I just think some Victorian houses have a tendency to feel a bit dingy sometimes.  With that in mind, I was sold on Wevet.

After nearly a year away from my job on maternity leave, I finally gave my notice in this week (Breathes out huge sigh of relief and pent up anxiety!).   I thought about this decision long and hard, it was not something I took lightly, and I can tell you that it kept me awake many nights worrying about what I would be throwing away.  After a particularly difficult Christmas and an equally bad start to January,  it dawned on me; there wasn’t really a “choice” at all. The answer was already in me, I wasn’t able to go back.

Ok, I’ll be honest; I don’t really know where I’m going with this one? In fact; I’m not entirely sure of what it really means to have “style”.  I guess, like many things, it’s how it’s perceived by others.  The most stylish person I ever met was my Grandmother.  My Mum’s mum had the ability to put outfits together and look effortlessly chic.  Her hair was always on point, her outfits demure and always clutching a stylish handbag.  She had a penchant for Jaeger clothing and weekly blow-dries; I cannot look at a navy or camel item of clothing without raising a little smile and thinking of her. My Mum and I joke about it often; although my Grandma sadly passed away when I was nearly sixteen, my Mum and I never fail to pick up items when we are out shopping and say “You know who would have loved this?!” So I suppose you could say, she lives on, as does her style, through us.

It always surprises me how many people cannot quite bring themselves to actually say out loud that Teddy died.  It often gets referred to as “What happened to you.” or “After what you’ve been through.”  I feel as though people try so hard to protect me from something that there is no hiding from; and something that I don’t want to be protected from.  Teddy died; he was here, he was so very loved, and then we lost him.