So 2011 has come to a close. This past year was fun, and a pretty pivotal one for me.
Perhaps it’s because I’m about to turn 30.
According to this astrologist:
“Time, responsibility, age, and reality, are all associated with one planet in astrology and that planet is Saturn. The transit of Saturn around the birth chart is a very reliable indicator of where we are in our maturation process because it completes a cycle every 29-and-a-half years, splitting our lives into three stages of growth: childhood, adulthood, and the elder years. With each cycle building upon what was learned in the previous one.”
Woah! Sure explains a lot. So how am I changing leading up to my 30s? One thing I really tried to cultivate this past year was to exhibit love, care and compassion towards myself. I stopped giving myself a hard time about not being good at things, taking a while to learn things, or deciding once and for all that something’s not for me.
I’d been saving up a little chunk of cash to buy myself something necessary on Boxing Day. I’ve been in need of an external hard drive, an iPod sound dock, and/or practical-yet-lovely black boots. But while doing some last minute Christmas shopping on December 23 I happened to take a peek in Holt Renfrew. They’d already started their Boxing Day sales soooo, what the hey. Let’s just take a look, yeah?
I went in, I browsed, I was tempted. Then, on my way to the door, I fell absolutely in love with these beauties:
Chie Mihara. Oh how I have always wanted you!!
Her designs are the perfect blend of past and present, topped with a muted, whimsical indulgence. There they were on the rack: 50 per cent off, in my exact shoe size of 38.5, which is surprisingly hard to find, and oh what amazing style. I tried them on and instantly felt like I was walking on a cloud. A very sexy cloud. But oh how I could walk! I just felt so strapped in. My feet had never felt so in command.
But then I thought, no, this is silly. What I really need, to be honest with myself, is a good pair of flat black boots. I should look for those. No heels. No. Leave them behind.
So I left, and I wandered around some more, looking. I even bought myself a pair of practical black riding boots, which were beautiful and a good price, but it all came back to the shoes. I went and tried them on again — this time with a lovely salesman who chatted with me about crazies and Chirstmas theft — and I strutted my stuff as best I could toward the mirror. I’ve never felt better in a pair of heels. Ever. They were made for me. On some level in my mind it had already been decided. They would be mine. Oh yes, they would be mine.
So I returned the boots and traipsed home, eager to get these puppies on. my. feet.
Early in the morning on the 24th, as I was wrapping all my Christmas gifts, I had a silly little idea. Why not wrap them up all beautiful-like and open them on Christmas Day? With a little “to me, from me, thanks for being beautiful” tag on top. Ha!
It’s not that I need someone telling me I’m beautiful. It was more that I extended the ritual of gift-wrapping and gift-opening toward myself, as a gesture. We all need to make gestures toward ourselves. And though it might seem dumb to spend time wrapping a gift for myself, it felt good. And it was fun!
I made my brother take photos of me opening them:
And here are some self-portraits:
Happy holidays! Now give yourself a hug.