Stars can't shine without darkness

February 16, 2014

Photo by Alex Lambrechts. Me at the PPQ show and party at The Sanderson on Friday night.

Sometimes I wish for a simpler existence where every single moment of my life isn't a scene worthy of a guilty-pleasure 'scripted reality' tv show* and where all the most incredible stories are things of innocent wonder as opposed to salacious tales and things I can never speak of**. 

I went straight from a 13 hour flight to a fashion party and within 24 hours I was the centre of my own storm in a teacup, or should I say sh*t-storm in a champagne glass. Playing cat and mouse at The Sanderson with a) some who cares but shouldn't, b) someone who doesn't care but should, and c) someones who care and should.

Afterward I had to pick up some pretty pieces from a jewellery company that want me to wear their necklaces, bracelets, rings etc. to London Fashion Week parties. Well, I have to actually GO to the parties won't I? I passed out afterward from exhaustion. 48 hours of denying myself an opportunity to recover from jet lag in lieu of going out to reconnect with as many people as possible caught up with me. I am old. But not as old as *****.

Right now I am in pain. Is it: 

a) guilt
b) non-guilt
c) guilt over something I shouldn't feel quilt*** over but rather should feel vindicated about
d) jetlag
e) hunger
f) a deadline due in an hour (I should get on it now)
g) stressing over figuring out where to go out tonight (for work, mind you, these jewellery aren't going to wear themselves)


I remind myself that without conflict we wouldn't appreciate peace, without duress we wouldn't know what serenity is, and that stars can't shine without darkness.



*The Real Non-Housewives of London, anyone?
**The best stories are the ones I can never talk about. You wish I had the 'integrity' of a Daily Mail columnist.
***Hahaha I keep mixing up my 'g's with 'q's. QUILT

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