Don't get me wrong, I appreciate every ray of sunshine we get, but true to English weather, each day brings something inconsistent and is wreaking havoc with my wardrobe choices! I don't know about the rest of you, but I wake up each morning scanning my closet in despair, launching each unsuitable item into a pile on my floor.
So, you are out of your maternity clothes, and are now facing an entirely new wardrobe crisis. The breast feeding wardrobe... Something you didn't prepare for when you were pregnant, bet you thought you would just wear your old clothes didn't you!
Accessorising really is an art. Scary to some and a regularly basked-in element for perhaps a select few, nothing feels as good when it comes to fashion, as accessorising does. And it really doesn't have to be feared. It's just misunderstood.
Gabrielle Chanel's ability to create functional, simplistic, yet chic garments is unprecedented. She stripped back the excessive decoration, frills and fuss and created well-constructed staple pieces, namely the tweed suit and the infamous little black dress.
Apparently this minor change in my appearance is enough to trigger an extremely different reaction from strangers. This is the only explanation I can find for the fact that in the past three weeks, since dying my hair, I have attracted more rudeness and abuse than in the three years previous to that.
Now I know as business woman tottering around in heels and as an avid fitness fanatic that my poor feet go through the mill more than most but I never stopped to give them the TLC they deserved. I feel after what I learnt on this day I will do.
The thing with balance is, it requires restraint and I know how difficult that can be when all those amazing trends strut down the catwalk, but you must be strong! What is your existing style? What trends work with that?
We need to stop polarising and start including. Instead of responding to the thin beauty ideal by simply replacing the images with a fatter demographic, we need to start featuring people who are thin and fat and everything in between alongside each other.
We would choose real women. And not only would they be non-models but, if we were to show their faces, then we would tell their stories and celebrate their achievements. No more anonymous mannequins.
Girls these days would be forgiven for being confused on what to do to qualify their existence. Luckily the 21st Century manual on "How to Become a Woman" is regularly updated by the honorary guardians of us womenfolk; so these five simple rules will help you up-and-comers breeze through life without a hitch.
I was 49 when we moved to LA. Long gone were the years when I might have had the confidence to carve down the boardwalk on roller blades in a bikini. ...
Do we really want that bodycon dress, that we'd never have even looked at pre-bump because it's hot maternity fashion property thanks to Abbey Clancey, or go dotty for Kate Middleton's polka dots because the media went mad for their maternity style?
It is funny how an item of clothing can be an emotional trigger or can be a reminder to you of great, good and bad times for you. I'll always love the teenage O'Neill years as they represented freedom, laughs and so much learning but for the 20s the lost their love for me.
You may call me shallow and argue that when a woman is pregnant, it's more about how her baby is developing than the way she looks and yes to some extent I agree. But with hormones raging and that smidgen of self-doubt that comes with your changing figure, it makes you feel good when you look nice.
First we wanted more representation for plus size women in modelling. Then we had plus size women 'reclaiming' the term. Then we had a nineties pop star say she disapproved of stores selling clothes in 'unhealthy' dress sizes. Now finally we have people saying we should drop the term 'plus size' altogether. Where will it all end?
I used to have straight hair when I was little. Then one day (I'm not sure when) it just exploded into a mass of curl and frizz. Now I'm one of those poor souls who have to put up with the daily (read: hourly) battle of having curly hair.