1. Apparently, it's all down to how you accessorize.
I don't even know what that means. I think it has something to do with putting your shoes on. I put shoes on every day. But apparently, a pair of muddy, battered trainers with holes in the soles or the flip flops that half the decorative buttons have fallen off or any other footwear item that is destined only for the bin doesn't count. Alas.
2. My beauty product reviews would all read like this:
"This moisturiser smells mildly of socks and seems to be bringing me out in a bit of a rash, but I'm still going to use it until it runs out because I can't afford to buy another one yet. Until then, please squint slightly in my presence so as to give a pleasant, blurred effect to my skin, and try not to inhale through your nose when close to my face."
3. I have no clothes.
Well, obviously I have some clothes. But since I chucked in my full time job to look after the Small One, I've had no money to spend on clothes. My wardrobe has got progressively smaller and more comedic over the last 5 years as items have worn out beyond repair and been thrown away. I am now down to a pair of jeans that are a bit too tight for comfort, several tops, all of which require a different sort of bra underneath to the ones I have left, a few summer dresses and skirts in various states of disrepair and a Very Nice Coat, which makes me look like a tramp who's robbed the cloakroom at Claridge's because I was cold.
4. There are simply not enough bohemian looking walls for me to be photographed against in my area.
Disappointingly, most of the walls in my town are bog standard, which just doesn't cut it in the world of fashion blogging. There is a row of garages around the corner from my house, which are covered in some pleasingly distressed paint in a very on trend shade of teal. I have had to pose against this wall for a magazine article I wrote in the past and felt like a right tit with people gawping at me and the photographer. But anyway, is one bohemian wall really enough? I think not. I'd constantly have to Photoshop it to make it a different colour. And while we're on the subject of Photoshop, I certainly can't be arsed with using it to erase my dark circles or to fake a thigh gap. Since when was a thigh gap even a thing anyway? Having one sounds like absolutely no fun and certainly wouldn't tie in with my deep interest in ordering curries and eating muffins.
My one and only foray into hipster wall posing
My hair is something to behold. It manages to combine being very thin with a lot of frizziness. It will not go straight, but nor will it curl in a sensible fashion. It basically looks as though someone has sprinkled a bag of pubic hairs over my head and run off laughing. Picture the reviews:
"Tried new shampoo. Hair still looks like pubes."
"Was sent sample of conditioner. Pube-like quality of hair slightly less wiry than usual."
"Serum fail - hair now like moist, oily pubes."
"Wore hat. SCORE."
6. Accidentally dressing like a character from a 1980s sitcom:
One morning, feeling the need to look a bit more put together than usual, I abandoned my jeans and my husband's hoodie for this nice, classic skirt and, I don't know, some sort of plain top, I would assume:
So far so good.
I had to go into town to pick up a couple of things. It looked a bit breezy outside, so I threw on a nice red mac and a hat and went on my way.
Half way to town, I realized that my hat was a beret, and with the skirt and the red coat, I was possibly looking a tiny bit too French. And not French in a chic, well groomed sort of way. More in the stereotypical onion seller sense. Felt a bit self conscious and embarrassed, but it was too chilly to remove the coat or the beret, so I carried bravely on my way, brazenly ignoring all funny looks directed my way. I was utterly convinced that I could style it out until I remembered that I needed to buy a baguette. A fucking baguette. Walked home brandishing my baguette, dressed like a character from 'Allo 'Allo.
"Pssst. It is I, LeClerc," said some joker, as I crept past. Everyone's a bloody comedian these days, aren't they?
So that is why I'm not a fashion and beauty blogger. Essentially, I'd be crap at it and a complete embarrassment to myself. Or maybe it would be inspirational for everyone else who's as hopeless at getting dressed as me. Maybe I should actually set up a blog for it so we can all have a good old laugh at my expense and feel better about ourselves and our bad hair and bog standard walls. Who's up for it?