Thank you for breaking my heart

Sometimes in life we meet people who can shatter our hearts into a million tiny pieces but this is not about those people. It’s about how we go about reconstructing those pieces into something again. At one time I was broken, but I was content to be that way. Don’t ask me why I have no reasons but it wasn’t until something happened that made me realise that I was getting no where that I became discontent enough to make a change.

The fact I was unhappy, broken hearted and discontented was the reason why I was able to take the bits of me and put them back together into a way that was better than before.

Almost everything new in the world comes from this place of discontentment because if we were happy with the world is then why would we change anything? So first of all we have to learn to embrace the heartbreak because from the better things can come.

Living in a world where you don’t feel comfortable because all you see are the things that are wrong can be exhausting. But when we channel those feelings to something positive it can make it easier.

I was watching an interview with Annie Lennox a few days ago and she was asked why she had recorded an album of covers rather than new material. She replied that she was too happy and content to write at the moment and that writing comes from a darker place. When we feel happy and content it is the most wonderful place to be but it will rarely challenge you to do something different. Why upset the great status quo if you don’t need to?

This is not about trying to make you unhappy, it’s about saying that it’s ok to feel not ok as long as you channel that into something positive. I can’t imagine many new businesses have started because people felt that everything was great as it was any they were just going to copy what everyone else was doing. OK maybe some have but they are coming from a different place that usually has less noble reasons motives.

Some of the best art, innovations, technology have come from those people who were discontent with the way with were and challenged what we all knew to be true and said ‘hey have you thought about it this way instead’.

Of course this sits a spectrum that starts at mild discontent to total and utter despair and I’m not about to try and say that it’s the same for everyone sitting somewhere along that spectrum. But I think there is the capacity there for those feelings to be used to somehow help how we deal with it.

One of my greatest influences is photography Kirsty Mitchell who used the feelings of grief following the passing of her Mother to create some of the most beautiful images I have ever seen and I urge anyone who has never seen her work to do so immediately. Similarly the recent phenomenon that is #sharethehonestlove brought about by Laura Caudrey asking people to think about their relationships in a different way, that focussed on the roots of love and not the just the shiny baubles we attach to it.

I have been trying to write this post for a long time and never knew quite where it should fit and now I’m writing it it seems like a fitting epitaph for this blog as I sign out and go onto my new ventures. I have often thought about starting up this blog again as it’s easy for me to write like this but I am really pushing myself forward by doing that. I stopped pushing my love life forward when I got married and now I’m a stone heavier and very happy. But I don’t feel like I’m ready to stand still when it comes to myself and I don’t want to get creatively fat. So I’m taking steps into the unknown and setting my own business and I don’t need the Ranty Girl anymore to fill that creative gap I had a few years ago. So let’s all go and find all those beautiful things that hide in the darker places.

Finally I want to thank that person for breaking my heart because without it I would not have found out how much more love was inside.

from my broken heart


What’s made me go WTF this week?

Going back to basics with a good old fashioned Ranty Girl type post today, my laundry list of things that have annoyed me this week.

1) Instatweet

You know what I love about Instagram? The pictures.

You know what I hate about Instagram? People who post images of personal text, usually a moan about something, instead of posting pictures. Fecking quit it.

2) Made in Chelsea

Ok so no I’ve never seen this show but the adverts are on all the time and I really don’t understand why anyone would watch it as every advert is exactly the same. There’s a bloke who looks like he does his hair in a wind tunnel, he’s always sat in a bar looking smug. Then there’s these brunette clones who are always crying or bitching about wind tunnel hair bloke. Then one of the brunette clones throws drink in wind tunnel hair man’s face and storms off. I don’t get it, are its viewers people who are afflicted with short term memory loss?

3) Choc mint flavour Pringles

Once you pop, you will most definitely stop, rapidly, and maybe throw up a bit.

4) Death by hashtag

#Can#we #please #make#it #a #rule #that #you #are #allowed#a #maximum #of #two #hashtags #per #tweet? #Stop #killing# tweets #with# half #a #dozen #hashtags, #because #let’s #face #it #unless# it’s #a ‘#thing’ #then #you’re #just #making #yourself #look #like #a #twonk.

You’re ruining Christmas

I used to go out with an Aussie and he was forever calling me a whinging pom, which was rich as he was the biggest moaner I’ve ever met only he just did it with an inflection at the end of every sentence so that made it OK apparently.

But what’s wrong with having a moan once in a while? Surely its better to get out our gripes than bottle them all up and risk us exploding in dangerous stabby, screamy, government worker kinda way.

So on that note I just have a few things to say

Will retailers stop ruining Christmas.

FFS its still over a month away and you have been ramming turkeys, mince pies and prawn rings down my throat since bloody September. Maybe you have some dodgy calendar that shows December starts after 31st August or you’re just a bunch of sadistic bastards who want to throw the nation into a debt fuelled panic for you’re own amusement.

It’s one day and as much as I love Christmas I’m not spending a penny on it until the 1st December and I think we should all resolve to do the same thing so these jackasses will stop trying to make Christmas last for half the fucking year.

You have pissed me off so much this year that we have actually decided to make most of our gifts this year. Ha didn’t see that one coming you greedy bastards. that’s right you can take your sparkly, cosy, aspirational adverts and stick them up your mass produced arse. I’m out!


Innovation stops at 30 (apparently).

Believe it or not there are quite a lot of my grumbles I don’t air on here because I think they are personal to me and people won’t get them but this morning I was surprised when a certain issue that has been plaguing me recently was brought up by someone else on Twitter.

Why are all the grants for people younger than 30yrs? #ageism

There seems to be some sort of invisible threshold you pass once you are 30 that means you have to start acting like a grown up, and you are not able to take any stupid risks like, starting your own business.

The government keep going on about supporting new businesses, innovations and entrepreneurship but only if your between 16-29. If you have actually done something in your twenties and managed to establish yourself then your allowed to be a crazy self-employed, creative thirty-something; but wanting to step out of main stream employment for the first time after 30 – are you MAD?

No, you should be at home paying your mortgage, having children and buying all those consumables that support the economy. It’s your responsibility as a proper grown-up. We can’t have you gallivanting off and being creative now, who will buy all the cars, houses and DFS sofas? Go and get yourself a cup of tea, honestly being a tea drinker is something that makes you interesting these days (oh you whimsical fool you).

Anyway I digress, but shit man I feel like I’ve been resigned to scrap heap of responsibility recently and I was sure I still had so much to give. I had this idea ages ago about a business I wanted to start but things kept getting in the way like moving house, having a baby and all those other things I should be doing. The concept was a dressing-up box for grown-up girls full of beautiful vintage inspired dresses that could be hired for parties, hen dos etc. I did lots of work contacting suppliers and getting costs and doing a plan but the timing just wasn’t right. Anyway I recently starting looking at the idea again as someone told me about some start-up funding I may be able to access. Brilliant! So I got in touch with them and they seemed really enthusiastic up until the point they asked me how old I was and they turned around and said the funding was only available for 18-24 yr olds. Fucking wonderful. So my ideas were valid but my age makes me invalid, thanks very much. So really. what I need now is a 23 year old front man who can get the funding while I actually run the business.  Ridic.

I even looked at crowd funding but couldn’t see how that would work, unless 100 people want to give £50 to get a dress loaned to them. Yeah not so much right?

So I got really pissy and hit my laptop a bit too hard and the plastic frame thing popped out and now it won’t shut properly and that is my punishment for being remotely ambitious at my age.

Maybe it is just a small minority of people who feel like this, or maybe there are thousands of people out there feeling frustrated at the fact you feel like you can’t step out of the role of sensible adult? I don’t have any answers here but I’d love to know if anyone else has ever felt like this and from anyone who has managed to shed the shackles of assumed responsibility and made a change after their 20s.

I’m a bitch

I’ve been called many  things in my time but one of the most frequently used is ‘bitch’. And you know what? I never take it with the spirit with which it was intended because the it’s the person calling me a bitch who has the problem not me. Quite frankly being a bitch is a good thing.


Now, i want to differentiate between a bitch and being bitchy. Being bitchy is not cool and is just you saying mean, horrible things about someone who more than likely is not around to defend themselves. Now I’m not saying I’m never bitchy, but I try to keep it to a minimum but I’m easily wound up (if you hadn’t noticed) and sometimes stuff just spills out of my mouth before I can stop it. But I am trying to get better and just keep my mouth shut when someone winds me up (even if it is totally their fault).

Bitch is a label applied to women when we are challenging, changing or telling people that things just aren’t good enough.   If I complain about service I receive in a shop or a restaurant, I’m being a bitch. Even if the shop assistant totally blanked me or my food took half an hour to arrive and was cold when did. Yes I’m a bitch for telling you you aren’t doing your job properly, how unreasonable of me to want some common bleeding courtesy when I’m paying it. And that’s just the thin end of the wedge. How about when you try to change something at work, reject the advances of a man or well anything that’s basically sticking up for yourself. If you don’t tow the line you’re a bitch.

However, calling me a bitch is fine because that just means you know I’m right, your wrong and you really don’t like it when an itty bitty girl tells you that.

So I’m going to continue to be a bitch because without bitches work/home/the world is never going to be a better place.  We need people who challenge the crap, want to make things better and accept that sometimes you gotta break a few egos along the way.

So next time someone calls me a bitch a going to thank them for recognising that I am in fact awesome and I may even give them a little blast of this if they are lucky

A 30 something rock chick?

This Saturday I turn cough34cough, a fact I’m not so much ashamed of as frustrated with. Getting older is pretty much the only thing you can guarantee on in life but how you carry yourself as you get older seems to become more of a conscious decision, the overwhelming opinion being that you need to grow old gracefully. Now if you were to ask me after a few drinks what I thought about this, I’d say it’s bollocks and you can be whoever you want to be at any age but in the cold hard light of sobriety I know that I wouldn’t do half the stuff now I did in my twenties and one of those things being how I dressed.

The Ranty Girl

Me at Uni (I still have the Punky Fish top)

Now when I was in my twenties I was a full on, New Rock wearing, rock chick with a wardrobe of PVC corsets, studded belts and ripped jeans. Pretty much everything I owned was black. But this look softened as I reached my late twenties and by 30 I was fully embracing vintage (the only problem, so was everyone else). But then 31 hit and thought I had to start dressing like a grown up and that’s when I found myself wandering into Next. Now don’t get me wrong Next is fine for work stuff and jeans but I was starting to buy casual clothes.

I was becoming………sensible and I’m really not sensible.

I then got pregnant (see evidence of not being sensible right there) which meant dressing up like a glorified tent for nine months and post baby, well it all went to shit. I don’t think I bought anything from the high street for a year. I pretty much felt excluded from most shops having written myself off as a frumpy mummy who couldn’t buy anything nice anymore because I was too old or it was going to end up covered in sick/snot/food/milk. I had pretty much resigned myself to a life in comfortable jeans and sensible tops. Now you metropolitan types probably won’t get this as in cities of tens or even hundreds of thousands it’s easy bit to stand out but in a small town anyone different stands out like a sore thumb. Especially when you live in city where you high street’s needed editions are Jack Wills and Joules (dullsville hello).

Anyway,I hope you can appreciate the depths of despair I had sunk to with my wardrobe of safe mummy clothes. So when I found myself in Topshop the other week I was as shocked as you probably are right now reading this. Now I’ll admit I felt really bloody old as most of the assistants looked like they probably hadn’t been born when I finished high school but I was feeling reckless. I haven’t been in Topshop for years so can you imagine my surprise when I actually found some clothes I liked, I know me the woman whose last purchase was a pair of elasticated waist maternity jeans. And you know what I actually bought a top and a skirt! I KNOW!!

The Ranty Girl

Looking good even if I do say so myself

So (rolls up sleeves) I’m going back to the High Street to put together my birthday wish list and you trendy, twenty something youngsters can step aside because I have a pushchair and I’m not afraid to use it.

The Rock Chick turned Rock Hen

Image 1 of ASOS ASTRONOMY Studded Leather Ankle BootsOh hi there sexy Studded boots ASOS

Gem Detachable Collar Dress

Love the vintage feel of this dress detachable collar dress  from Oasis

Crushed velvet skirt from Topshop this is so nineties and reminds me of my teenage years. love it!

I don’t know if I would be brave enough to wear Topshop playsuit this but I think it’s amazing and would look great with the studded boots dontcha think. (I want this so bad)

Amber Lace Sleeve Dress

OK I know I would not have an occasion to wear this Oasis dress but I want it, it’s like goth meets eighties power dressing. What’s not to adore?

Lace High Neck Top

For a more sensible option there is this lace high-neck top also from Oasis

Image 1 of ASOS Midi Skirt with Stitch Waist Detail 

Black mid-length skirt ASOS I’ve been seeing these mid-length skirts for a while and I really like them and for £28 you can guarantee this will be in my wardrobe before long

This black drop waisted dress from Warehouse has more than a touch of 1920s flapper about it 

How could I not have this sequin embellished horse jumper from French Connection, it has a horse in sequins on it for heavens sake!


Ripped jeans and roses from Zara, hell yeah


It’s black and has zips, need I say more?

But if I have to grow-up

I love Oasis dresses because they fit smaller ladies really well and they are just very chic and I’m not at all chic but sometimes I like to pretend

Lila Embellished Neck Dress

We have been watching Atlantis on BBC and I love the blue worn by the royals and this dress is almost the perfect shade

Fit and Flare Knit Dress

You just know this red dress is going to fit and flatter right? Right. Plus how amazingly perfect housewifey will I look on Christmas day in this little number

Poppie Dress

Ok the colours on this dress really wouldn’t work for me but do I look like a care? erm no (If you could see my face this would work so much better).

You will have noticed that there’s nothing from River Island because, well, I have no desire to look like Rihanna.

The Bad Day

So today started badly. It was pretty much FML territory from the get go and didn’t really get better as things went on.

Ok  no that’s a lie. Things weren’t that bad every traffic light I hit was green, I got to work early and I remembered my laptop and my lunch but I was in the foulest mood because I had been kept up for the best part of the night and I was not happy about this.

So cue lots of swearing, huffing and general homicidal tendencies towards anyone who even looked at me let alone had the audacity to open their mouth and try and say something reasonable like ‘coffee?’.

Rar, rar, rar I went to everyone and everything.

So desperate times call for desperate measures and in my case this means one thing and one thing only – I sing.

Now singing has become this whole elitist thing  where you are expected to be able to hit a note and carry a tune to be allowed to sing. Yeah whatevs, bollocks to that. Singing makes me happy, it makes me joyful and even if I’m not ‘good’ at it I don’t care I’m going to keep doing it because it saves me from becoming a bitch from hell.

I say………

sing like you dint care if anyone is listening

So for the last 30 mins I have been singing my little heart out and I’m now feeling less of a danger to the general public and if anyone wants to know what I’ve been singing…….

Let’s go to the mall – Robin Sparkles. If this doesn’t cheer you up, well then I can’t help you.