The Awkward Girl's Guide to the Week | In Which I Am Influenced
And you can be, too.
Because I am basic, I bought a Stanley Quencher.
A pink one, naturally.
It cost me £50 (In my defense, I had an Amazon voucher, so it was technically free, but still...) and took 2 weeks to arrive from America, after a three-week-long waiting list. Every so often during those 5 long weeks of anticipation, I would log onto my Amazon account, and I would wonder if I should cancel the order before it could be dispatched. "Is it worth it, Amber?" I asked myself, imagining I sounded a bit like Taylor Swift in "Should've Said No". "Is it really worth it?"
But then the glorious day came. The package arrived, and I proudly carried it up to the office.
"This is literally going to change my life," I told my bemused husband, who just wanted to get back to work. "This is IT. The moment I've been waiting for. My life will be changed by a giant pink mug."
"I mean, if you say so," said Terry, turning back to his screen. And, the thing is, he had reason to be cynical here, because I do this kind of thing a lot. I think it's because I'm perpetually waiting for my life to change, and it's so tempting to allow myself to be convinced that buying stuff is an easy way to do it.
I bought the Stanley Quencher, for instance, because I became obsessed with watching people's Morning Routine videos on TikTok, all of which seem to be made by these impossibly glamorous, model-like women, who live in contemporary London apartments, and wake up at 5am every morning to go to the gym.
When these women get out of bed (Which is always positioned next to a floor-to-ceiling window, looking directly onto Tower Bridge or something), the first thing they always do is go to fill their Stanley Quencher. One woman even had a cupboard in her apartment which had JUST Stanley Quenchers in it. And they were all arranged by colour, so she could coordinate with her outfit.
"That's it," I thought feverishly. "That's the life for me." And while I knew I would never have the swanky apartment or the ability to get up at 5am for anything other than a flight, I COULD have the giant mug. Because I AM a giant mug, basically. And I had been well and truly influenced. Which leads me neatly on to a shiny new section of the newsletter in which I try to influence you, by telling you all about what I’ve been reading, watching, trying and buying this week. And here it is…
(Psst: if you’re not interested in any of this, scroll to the end for more Facebook drama…)
WATCHING:
Son of a Critch is a Canadian show based on the biography of Mark Critch, and it folllows the story of his childhood, as he grows up in 1980s Newfoundland. Mark himself actually plays his dad in the show, and as soon as I realised this, it was basically all I could think about, because imagine being an actor and having to play your own dad? While someone else plays you as a child? And being on a set designed to look like your childhood home, filled with actors playing all of your family members, and pretty much everyone else you ever knew?
Wild.
Anyway, the show is nostalgic and funny and often poignant, in a Wonder Years kind of way, and it’s the perfect comfort viewing for those times when you don’t want to watch anything too heavy or complicated. It’s also made me want to visit Newfoundland (Those layovers at Gander airport don’t count), so there’s that, too.
READING:
The Keeper of Stories by Sally Page.
I actually just started reading this at soft play last weekend (The ability to read at soft play centres has become my superpower…) so I’m only a few chapters in, but I’m already intrigued by Janice — a cleaner who collects people’s stories, but claims to have none of her own — and her latest client; a woman in her 90s who’s determined to extract the aforementioned story from her new cleaner.
As I said I’m having to read this in single-chapter bursts (And at soft play), which is making for frustratingly slow progress, but it’s beautifully written, and makes me want to fast-forward until bedtime so I can read some more, so it’s safe to say I’m going to be pre-ordering Sally Page’s next book, too.
TRYING:
Colgate’s weirdly expensive whitening toothpaste.
Terry added this to our online grocery shop this week. He told me it’s normally £30, but it was on sale for £5, but I just found it on Amazon for £10, so I have no idea what’s going on there. I feel like even £10 is expensive for toothpaste, though, but, then again, the grocery shop is Terry’s responsibility, so what would I know?
Anyway, this is a whitening toothpaste, and you know it’s a really good one, because it’s got the words “MAX” and “ULTIMATE” on the tube. Fancy!
Like any other toothpaste, you use it for two minutes twice a day; unlike any other toothpaste, however, it claims to perform ACTUAL tooth-whitening miracles, which is very exciting to me, because a) I’m an absolute sucker for ridiculously inflated marketing claims, and, b) When I had my veeners fitted a few years ago, I only had them on the upper teeth. The dentist talked me into not bothering with the lowers, because they don’t really show when I talk, but this means they’ve ended up a few shades darker than their mouth-mates, and I hate that for me.
Will Colgate MAX WHITE ULTIMATE fix that? Er, dunno, sorry. I’ve just realised I made this sound like it was going to be a proper review, with, like, an actual conclusion, and stuff, but I’ve only been using it for a few days, so it’s too early to really tell.
What I CAN tell you, however, is that my teeth hurt like hell right now, in exactly the same way they do after professional whitening, so I have to hope it’s doing SOME good. I will either report back or forget all about it: you’ll have to wait and see.
BUYING:
Other than the Stanley Quencher (Did I mention I bought I Stanley Quencher?), I bought myself a pair of cycling shorts. This felt like a bold, and probably misguided move on my part, especially given that the last time I wore cycling shorts I was about 13 years old — and they didn’t even suit me then, if I’m honest.
But ever since Max was born, and I completely lost my sense of style and self, I’ve found summer clothes (Which used to be by far my favourite kind), absolutely impossible. I’m suddenly self-conscious about my milk bottle legs and flabby upper arms. The 50s style dresses that used to be my go-to now feel ridiculous and costumey — especially if I tried to wear them on the school run, which, let’s face it, is the only place I go these days. Everything else I’ve tried, though, just looks ALL WRONG, for varying reasons, which means that getting dressed in the morning has become a “Challenge Anneka” kind of activity (Anyone remember that show, or did I just date myself horribly?) that I am just not here for.
In winter (Which, by contrast, I used to find impossible to dress for), I can hide under big coats and sweaters, teamed with my ever-present leggings and trainers. This summer, however, is proving too hot for my usual workout gear (Which is really unusual for Scotland, let me tell you), and if I can’t wear leggings themselves, it felt like cycling shorts would be the next best thing, even though I feel like a bit of a tit in them.
Anyway, I know cycling shorts were last summer’s trend, so I’m way behind the curve here, as usual, but pretty much everyone at the school gate was wearing them this week, so I guess I won’t look too weird in them? Maybe?
Wow, that was a LOT of words about cycling shorts. And I’m not even going to show you a photo of them, either, so here’s a photo of me in a random t-shirt I bought instead:
Update: after wearing the shorts for the first time, I immediately bought a second pair in a different colour. I am not stylish, but I am very, very comfortable, so at least that’s something.
ON THE BLOG:
Last week I finally got round to backing up the memory card of the little camera my parents bought Max last year, and discovered some really unflattering photos of myself, amongst a bunch of other things which are really only interesting to me, but which I’ve shared anyway, because I enjoyed seeing the things he found important enough to want to document:
There’s also my newest post on growing up “ugly”, which I was quite nervous to share because I figured some readers would be annoyed with me for describing myself that way, and I really didn’t want it to turn into some kind of ‘ugly’ Olympics — which is always a risk with this kind of thing. It’s a very honest post about self-image and how I’ve always felt about myself, though, and it also contains some pretty solid beauty tips, even though I say it myself, so you can take a look here:
In other news…
There’s been more drama in the street’s Facebook group, which means I get to use my favourite gif for what must be the 5th time this summer already:
(I’ve put this last part under a paywall for privacy reasons, but it’s not particularly interesting, so please don’t feel pressure to upgrade. If you DO upgrade to a paid subscription, however, you’ll be helping allow me to keep this newsletter and my blog going, as well as getting access to exclusive, bonus content, subscriber chat, and the chance to request a post. You can upgrade below: