Day 58 to 62....peaks troughs and plateau's

The last few days have been somewhat of a blur, Hanger Strike I fear has fallen to the bottom of my to do list as I find myself scrambling to organise my life. I have a new job and am busy packing up my entire life in order to move to the Big Smoke where I am reliably informed that the streets are paved with gold. Rather than worrying about having banished myself from the highstreet, I increasingly find myself concerned that I have no where to live. As one can surely imagine, this has meant that the mental capacity I have given over to Hanger Strike has been somewhat diminished over the last week.

Nevertheless the blog must go on and unfortunately this post starts with a little confession of natural blondeness (yes I am a natural blonde). I tootled off to London at the weekend in order to search for a new residence over the weekend and forgot to have any photos taken, such was my concern at impending homeslessness. I promise however that;
1. I wore clothes
2. I didnt purchase or come by any additional items over the course of the bank holiday period.

Day 58 was a bit of a scruffy Friday as I grappled with a distinct lack of interest in the concept of being awake. Some very comfy Jack Wills helped me alon, however I fear I looked a little scruffy

A loing day at the office immersed in handovers was followed by a night out and about with my lovely friend Becca, before setting off to London bright and early on Saturday.

A little brown H&M classic for a night out

Saturday, Sunday and Monday passed in a blur, not a moment's thought was given to the clothes that I cannot buy, however I couldn't help but note the easy style of South London as I perused the flat lettings market. I have to admit a not insignificant level of trepidation at the concept of completing the final 10 months of Hanger Strike in our capital city. Something about the whole situation feels rather ill thought through, as if a girl ever thinks about moving to a new city and a new job without arming herself with a single new item of attire. My office is two stops from Oxford Street and I can only imagine the final months of the challenge will stretch unendingly into the future, how extraordinarily unpleasant.

Again I find myself intrigued by the security of clothes. How they allow us to present ourselves to society in different ways and the feeling of safety that this gives us. I feel hugely uncomfortable about the idea of moving to a city where the styles are subtley different and being unable to amend my image in order to fit into that with a little more ease. I don't for a second wish to change who I am or my personal style but to not be able to buy a pair of shoeboots for Autumn in one of the most stylish cities in the world makes me feel quite frankly nauseous. I feel sure that the styles of London will feature regularly in the pages of Hanger Strike for quite some time as I adjust to the new challenges that lie ahead.

Tuesday Day 62 was a day for black and jewellery as I psyched myself up for the week ahead.