volume twelve

dress to impress

While it is not the overall theme of this week’s newsletter I do want to give a heads up that there is brief mention of some of the ways I acted before I got sober in this edition — should anyone choose they do not want to read this week for this reason.

So things are kind of open where I live, yeah? And they have been for a while now. Slowly but surely I am dipping my toes back into life and it is bizarre. Not only am I navigating life after spending the better part of fifteen months alone in a new city during a pandemic — a city that was completely shut down for most of that time including having curfews, a city where I do not speak the language, a city that has winters so long and brutal they feel like they will never end — but I also went into the pandemic a drinker (especially using it as a coping mechanism) and came out living a sober life.

I am so blessed l have entered this new magical chapter of life and every day I spend sober I am grateful. I have done it for myself — for future Lauren who will continue to accomplish so much, for today’s Lauren who feels amazing and is present in each moment and for past Lauren who did the best she could, I am going to take care of her. I am so proud of every day I get through without a drink.

But each day is different, with its own celebrations of things that are oh-so-delightful through sober eyes — seeing them as new magical, enlightening, exciting things in a way I never would have known before. On the other hand, some days I am just trying to do things I only ever knew how to do when I was drinking.

That leaves me deciding — is this something I can do sober? How does it make me feel doing it sober? And for some things — is this even something I want to be doing now I am sober?

Recently I bowed out of free tickets to a music festival in the VIP section on a Saturday night to spend it on the couch replying to some emails while happy crying at my TV show playing in the background. I did not regret it one bit.

no pants, non-alcoholic beer, sitting on the living room floor with the most difficult decision to make: what do I watch? answer: it’s always whatever show I am binging, no matter what.

Past Lauren would have been at the festival the second the gates opened and she would have drunk all of her free drinks in the VIP section as if they were going to disappear if she didn’t. Then she would have found a way to get more free drink tickets and failing that, she would then have spent lots of money she shouldn’t have on more. (Oh, and that would have been after already spending a few hours drinking while getting ready to go there because that is the money-saving way to drink — to be tipsy before you arrive at the venue so that you spend less. This, as you can tell, was a terrible plan that only ever resulted in her being drunk).

This would have also led to her Sunday being completely ruined because she had no self-control. In case it wasn’t clear, she could never just have “one drink” and the only way she stopped after she started was when it was time for bed.

So all the lovely things she did on that Sunday after her couch cry, as a result of staying sober? Yeah, they would have instead been her sleeping through alarms, reminders & notifications and cancelling plans. It would have been her opening her eyes long enough to move her to-do in her phone’s calendar to other days of the week to free up the day for “just another hour of sleep then she will feel better afterwards and start her day”. Then, after that hour passed (and probably another and another), she would spend the remainder of the day, which was likely now the afternoon, napping on the couch, slowly sipping water trying to keep it down, only to rally again in the afternoon with a few drinks to get herself to some sort of upright position for whatever plans she could not, and would not cancel so that the day wasn’t completely wasted and she could go into Monday morning not completely filled with self-hatred.

So you’d think going out at night for celebrations with friends, to boozy brunches, day drinking picnics and BBQs where I am meeting new people, going out dancing, interviewing literal idols on my podcast or enjoying a live show would all be things I would struggle the most with sober, as they used to be done with liquid companionship. Actually — I have done all of those things successfully since emerging from hibernation with a clear mind. I am kind of fun without a drink. Who knew? Certainly not me. Side note: I do hang out by the snack table at the start of any event because it is like my body needs something in my hands going to my face in order to feel comfortable in social situations. This is getting easier and I am also told it is very normal and I am also not worried at all in the slightest because I love snacking, and at least now I remember the snacks instead of devouring them blackout at the end of the night.

All of that to say, what has been one of the most drastic changes I have seen in myself since coming out of hiding is my awareness of how quickly I judge myself before others can.

One big way I see myself do this is that I tend to dress with my own whole not-really-sure-what-I want-to be-today style. More often than not, it’s a t-shirt and some kind of fun and outrageous pair of (probably flared) pants. My style inspirations when I am leaving the house could be described as Steven Tyler-esque (whose style icon was Janis Joplin so…) with a sprinkling of 1990s Alicia Silverstone — depending on my mood. And if the temperature is starting to drop I might feel a little Stevie Nicks and disguise my layers with anything flowing, or maybe a little Bianca Jagger pants suit and (faux) fur coat. To be honest, it isn’t really my own style, it is just a collection of styles I love and I decide who I want to channel that day. I am not revolutionary or game-changing in my style okay — so why is what I am about to tell you — even a thing?

To be clear Alicia Silverstone could mean this:

But most days I leave the house I try to channel this:

After spending so much time during the pandemimoore in sweat pants or oversized t-shirts and no pants... I feel like I am making up for lost time whenever I leave the house. Most days I just go for it, not caring what anyone thinks, even if all I am doing is going to the corner store, and that is a blessing of the pandemimoore and not having that outside influence of society for so long.

Other days, as I said, I can be quick to judge myself before others can and I can feel the pressures of society creeping back in as I am walking down the street in a fucking colourful, flowing, cool, eye-grabbing outfit that I feel fucking sexy in and then all of a sudden I get this huge pang of fear that because of how I am dressed that means that I am unapproachable. I am alienating myself by not conforming. People are going to view me as too ‘weird’ or too ‘out there’ or worst of all trying too hard — so why would anyone want to be friends with me?

Then something even more sinister creeps in. I realise when I am picturing these fictional people who would be thinking these things and judging me for my appearance, I am only picturing men. I only consider myself unapproachable to men and not to anyone else.

Why is it that we women are always, even when trying so fucking hard not to, dressing to please the male gaze and seeking their approval? (That being the approval of strangers on the street who I would only deem myself worthy of if they deem my look worthy of their second take as they pass me?) What in the actual fuck? But alas, as much as I try to fight it every damn day, read everything I can on the matter and act in every way possible to make sure I live my life for me, society still has its lips to my ear whispering to me that I am not attractive unless men immediately find me attractive.

I remember reflecting, what feels not that long ago, how free I felt having spent so much time alone during the pandemimoore, that I was the most authentic version of myself now that I only had my own influence around me for so long. It felt so magical and wonderful and I felt stronger than ever. So why is it going away so easily? Why am I already heading to brunches in an outfit I put together then decided to sub snakeskin kneehighs for plain black ankle boots to tone it down? Why am I fighting my urge to dress like the fucking rockstar I am, so that I make strangers on the street more comfortable by not drawing “the wrong kind of attention to myself”?

How am I so quickly wanting to dress like someone completely different in so many ways? This just after a few outings? Why is it happening so fast? 

Why am I trying to be someone I am not?

I contemplated changing so many times before I left the house, thought about taking one or two things away to tone this down. But I fought the voice and am so glad that I did.

Why do I own clothes that are not my style? When I thrift — why am I seeking out things I have seen on social media that are not like anything else I own? Why do I feel the urge again now, to only put on a colourful flare pant as long as I pair it with a sensible pair of shoes, a plain black t-shirt and little to no accessories when what I really want to do is dress them up like Elton and Bowie had a baby and that baby is me all grown up now and I am a fucking symbol of queer awesomeness?

Each time I think this I will remind myself that it’s even better if these thoughts cross my mind. This is the sign I need to keep wearing anything that makes me feel like I shouldn’t be. Worried what people are going to think? Excellent, push back. With every thought of “I am not approachable in this outfit” I will take that as all the more reason to wear it, and wear it confidently, anyway. There is no better way to train your brain than to fight the thoughts you have been conditioned to think.

If you see me in an outfit that looks like I fought my inner voice to wear it that day, but I of course look hot as hell, make sure to tell me. If you see someone else looking like they chose what they wore today with intention and confidence and with their heart — tell them how fucking great they look. You never know how small comments can lead to big changes. Fight back against what you have been trained to think and dress to fucking impress your younger self who would look at you and say “damn, you are so cool, I can’t wait to grow up and be you”.

At the same time, remember to take care of yourself. I am very sure that even Steven Tyler wears sweatpants on self-care days.

I love you,

Lauren

xoxo

credit @florencegiven

Three things I struggled with this week:

• Impatience. I was fully unpacked into my new apartment 12 hours after the movers arrived at my old apartment to pick up my stuff. As a result, I destroyed myself because I Monica Gellar-ed my way into this new space.

• Back to life, back to reality. The first day back at work after a long weekend is never easy. Especially when you work in an industry that as a whole, unofficially crown transphobic and anti-LGBTQ men as their gods (or you know on other occasions r*pists, p*dophiles and sexual predators but act in shock and disbelief when they find out that they are). I just (this is not specific to my current place of work but rather to the world I work in general, and I have worked in many ‘tiers’ of this world and it is all the same, you can’t be unaware of it) feel even more so every damn day that I do not want to work in this industry any more. At least not like this, at least for now, at least not when it involves people like that. I need to revaluate, rethink, restructure and then decide who and what deserves my time. There are people in this industry that do, and I need to rebuild my life around them alone.

• Okay so I have dealt with this a couple of times in the recent pandemimoore years — ever had a crush on someone you only know from the shoulders up?

  

Three blessings from this week:

• I finally watched A Beautiful Day In The Neighbourhood. Oh my goodness, I want the kindness, empathy, compassion, serenity and thoughtfulness-before-speaking that Mr Rogers encompasses. That is the dream goal of the way I want to live my life. What a beautiful film.

• A shared potluck meal with friends. Oh, how lovely that is! Laughter, conversation and as my friend put it “like having dinner at everyone’s house”  which I thought was just a charming thought.

• The view from my new apartment is B E A U T I F U L. I am an early riser, so I get to see all of the colours take shape as they appear from the dark in the morning. Then at the end of the day, I get treated to what has been so far, warm-toned picture-perfect sunsets, as the backdrop to a sea of fall coloured trees blanketing the neighbourhood.

Three goals for the coming week:

• Read. I fell off my reading tracks a little over the last few weeks, and that is okay! I had visitors in town for two weekends as well as moving homes. I am not upset that I had to let some things slide, but I am excited to start reading a little every day again as I enjoy it so much!

• Practice mon francais. Again, I let this slide while busy with other things. I have moved to a very francophone neighbourhood and I want to be able to chat with my neighbours who are all so lovely. This will be the driving force behind my practice — having delightful chats and enjoyable chance run-ins with sweet people and creating connections will be such a reward for me.

• TW: Mental health and suicide: Did you know that 1 in 5 people experience symptoms of mental illness each year? In fact, every day in Australia, 8 people will die from suicide. Mental illness can be debilitating and can have a devastating impact on not only those living with it, but those around them. This October, I’ll be walking to make a difference to the lives of people touched by mental illness and suicide! I'm fundraising to raise money for life-changing research into the treatment and prevention of mental illness, as well as vital support services.  It would mean so much to me if you'd support my walk this October. I am more than halfway to my KM goal and so close to my donation goal! Every dollar helps if you can!

What I am enjoying this week: 

I have been desperate to consume media that aligns with shared experiences, or even just that is relatable to mine. I was told to watch Mom, with the warning that it takes a few episodes to find its feet then it is really well done. Well, both of those comments are indeed facts in my opinion. It is rocky at best at the start - let’s be honest the same guy behind Two and a Half Men and Big Bang Theory is behind this show so my hopes were not high. But quick enough (especially if you are me and can squeeze in four or more episodes in an evening) it finds a groove and runs with it. I do not know what my thoughts are worth when I say this next part because well, what doesn’t do this to me? But I have been brought to happy and sad tears in this show many times. I am into Season Three and I just cannot get enough. Allison Janney is a fucking boss and we are not worthy. The effortlessness of her switching between sincerity and comedic genius is what makes this show, but all the characters are pretty great.