I love Autumn. LOVE it. The gold and brown tones, the natural fibres, the ‘dress, cardigan, tights & boots’ look: that’s my favourite. Yay for leaves turning and mornings frosting. Bring on the soup!

Here are some gorgeous things from my favourite stores:

Plumo

Jigsaw

Noa Noa

Kew

I am sitting in Villandry on the High Road, thinking about Stevie Smith and her Lazarus poem, wondering how it’s possible that I remember this from English class a lifetime ago. I am haunted by those few lines of late and I wonder if I am about to die. Or maybe give birth to something? I am trying to find the words, the scaffolding for my thoughts but they are like marbles that fall through my fingers and scatter on the wooden floor.

I am chilled from the breeze through the open door. There are voices drifting in from the street, traffic sounds. Everything moves. Changes. All is flux.

It is impossible to know how else this could’ve turned out.

Two sofas, a king sized bed, a large coffee table, and my desk have all gone to their respective new homes, sent with love. Science Guy has spent the last 72 hours ripping our joint cd collection to MP3. And judging my early music choices. Rex & Badger are in equal measure weirded out by the steady disappearance of Things We Climb On, and at risk of exploding with excitement at All The New Space We Can Run In. The process of letting go has been easier than my anticipation of it. But it has been a difficult few weeks with all of this change. All of this shedding of stuff and baggage. All the bloody ‘learning’.

Since forever, ‘Maintain a Constant State Of Harmony Lest He Leave Me’ has been the primary way I tackle domestic arrangements. I have always found saying no, or I’m angry, or I don’t want to do that, or I don’t like that, very very difficult. I am fearful that perhaps I will say The Thing That Turns Out To Be The Last Straw. Its just so much easier to not rock the boat and then go eat my body-weight in chocolate. Then I don’t have to feel anything at all. I learnt this so long ago, when I didn’t know how else to deal with crappy feelings.

But I don’t have that ‘out’ any more. And with so much change going on recently, I have found myself in this limbo of frustration where I am feeling everything and then having to articulate those feelings rather than numb them. The frustration at not knowing how to say the words means it often comes out all shouty and sweary and Science Guy is looking at me like why have you just lost your shit over where that table goes? Which is completely reasonable. While I just feel completely unbloodyreasonable. On Friday this unreasonableness became a bit too much, and after a yucky squabble about something ridiculously minor I stewed for the whole day, culminating in tears and the mindless devouring of three quarters of a container of M&S chocolatey mini-bites. I couldn’t stop myself until the tub was empty. And then the familiar sense of not only have you caused a fight, you just ate a squillion additional calories. Brilliant.

In the past, this would have been enough to end the journey I am on to living healthier: it was the perfect storm of being home alone, stressful change, a sprinkling of emotional turmoil. Plus it was raining. Every excuse I ever needed to order pizza and ice cream was right there. And then once I had eaten all of that, well what would be the point of carrying on? Because I would have failed in my quest. Again. All because I couldn’t say that I didn’t like where he wanted to put the table in the new house. That we haven’t moved into yet. Yeah, my brain is awesome.

But then I kind of got it: this is the way I have always dealt with general emotional shittiness; its familiar and comforting. This situation feels crappy and chocolate is the opposite of crappy – its a perfectly understandable thing to do. Except now I know better. I have more tools to get through the crappy than I did when I was a confused and hurt little girl.

And I know now, that saying how I feel is an act of self-love that doesn’t require batteries.

There is something about lace and satin and strategically placed frou frou. Wearing lingerie is undeniably sexy. These beauties are from Strumpet & Pink, who totally get it: ‘our knickers are experiential and focus on feeling rather than objectification’.

Time to get out of the Marks and Spencer 6 pack of cotton knickers, me thinks…

All images Strumpet & Pink