Monday, 23 April 2018

Childbearer

Thirty five years ago, my mother entered her childbearing years; Thirty five years later, they wind down, and mine begin. In thirty five years' time, my childbearing years too will come to an end. The Eighth Amendment referendum, to me, demarcates a new public and personal epoch for the childbearers of past and present.

At five years old, I wanted to be a princess
At ten years old, I wanted to be an actress
At fifteen years old, I wanted to be a writer
Today, at 20 years old, I can't wait to be a mother.

I don't know when or how I developed this wish, but to me, after spending much of life so far being hard on myself and steadfast on doing big things, it signifies something more wholesome and stable. That might seem like a very anti-feminist thing to say, and rather anti-me if you know me personally in fact, but nowadays if I see myself as happy in the future, I see myself with children. Maybe that aspiration will change in five years' time again; I can't say, but for now, I love that idea.

So much happens in between every one of those five year gaps, not just for me, but for everyone; Normal things, unexpected things, fantastic things, and unfortunately abhorrent things. Multiply that gap by seven, and you'll get the number of years since the last legislative change to the Eighth Amendment. Looking forward, it's  also the rough number of years myself and many other young adults have before we go through menopause. The next chapter of where women stand in this country will be the height of my generation's childbearing years.

I can remember being in a religion class in secondary school, and being surprised by how many classmates were against abortion. I have always looked at it as something that I would never need, just distancing myself from it and accepting it as a necessary health service to other women. However, when I look at the Eighth Amendment in terms of this 35-year slot, I truly realise how definitive this vote could be to myself and many other peoples' futures. One can acknowledge that much will happen in a five-year gap, but can never foresee or prepare for what thirty-five years on this earth could bring.

I will always hope that the next thirty-five years will grant me my own family and piece of the world to share with them, but neither I, nor can anyone account for a tragedy that could bring with it a need for abortion. No one plans it; No one wants it; No one wishes it.

If you are on-the-fence about introducing legislation for free, safe and legal abortions, I urge you to look at yourself and your future with the child-bearers around you. Consider your own life and how much can happen and change, as well as how much can happen and change for them too in five, ten, twenty years. Thirty-five years.

Sunday, 4 March 2018

Feck the Register



There is something ironic about there being more clarity in a contraceptive pill pamphlet regarding missing a dose than in state-provided information about registering to vote. Many of us are trying to do the latter in preparation for the Eighth Amendment referendum. My heart sank when I could not find my name on the register. Was my name written with or without a fada? Was my Eircode entered incorrectly? RFA Ones, Twos and Threes, visits to the garda station, (contradictory) advice from peers, and a lack thereof from my local council mean that I am still unsure of having an input in this life changing vote. I also know that I am not alone in this predicament from speaking to others – but what if there are hundreds, if not thousands of young adults which share my confusion?


Monday, 6 November 2017

Winter Attire




I will forever be baffled at people who leave the house without a coat, full-legged trousers and/or hosiery past the month of September. Maybe I was reared a bit too well by mammy, but I just want to assert to all my like-minded, too-sensible readers (all of you) that I actually wore this in August - and I'm publishing it now, much to my own shame.

I wore this on a night out to meet one of my favourite Drag Race Alumna, Pearl. I started off thinking I was channelling her in this but really it's a Twiggy/Margot Tenenbaum/Melancholic Candyfloss Realness look. And I don't hate it.


Bits n pieces as follows:

Sheer flared sleeve leotard : Penneys
Bralette : Penneys
Skirt : Reloved @ Topshop
Shoes : Pennteyssss

If I have one style goal over the next couple o' months, it's to stop using Penneys as a style crutch, as great as it is. I've fallen into a major rut in regards to wanting something new and funky to wear, and just making do with whatever's new in Ireland's favourite siopa - It's unhealthy, and frankly it doesn't make me value my clothing; They've just become disposable items to me which is unhealthy for me, my purse and the planet! 

Side note: Half debating whether to say 'HEY AM BAQUE' or not because I really want to start back at this again, but have tried before and failed. And while writing about what I wear is easy, I do think it'd be more fruitful to stop writing things in first person etc... But we'll go with whatever pops into my head for now. :*


Tuesday, 31 January 2017

Untitled

HI ALL.

What the hell's been going down? It's been a long, long time but hey, I'm here now going to take another stab at it - again. Unbeknownst to you, I've made two other attempts in the past few months at this re-introductory piece: One titled 'Gluten' and the other 'News Flash: I'm just like everybody else'. Great stuff, maybe I'll share them sometime. Fingers and toes crossed that this is third time lucky at getting something published.

The thing is, I don't really know what happened - I took a hiatus to focus on school, and then I got a dog, I started college, I cut my hair and several/all Skam episodes later (I highly recommend Skam) - I'm here. Kind of at a crossroads. I'm in college, doing the course which I chose because I used to run this blog, and loved media and producing content. I gag at the irony that now, of all times I am at my least creative. And, here, I have one day left in January 2017; So I'm using it to get back on this godforsaken blog horsey.

apologies for poor quality; I'm getting back on the photo editing horsey too x


I don't know exactly where I'm going to go with this yet, so for now I'll just opportunistically word vomit until stumble upon a more structured MO. I like art and fashion and music still, obviously, so expect stuff from within that realm - that's really the only 'hint' I can give you - even though I too am trying to figure out this riddle. Stay tuned. In the meantime if you'd like to know what I've been getting up to (lol yea), my instagram is probably the best place to go: @brnghklly. Ciao for now.

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Girly Angst

What, you mean not all teenage girls have a Marilyn Manson shrine/voodoo doll in their rooms?!
It's always fun when you tell someone you have a blog and their first reaction is, 'Ha! So what do you write about? Pff, angst? All the feels?!' - by 'fun' I mean a little tiny teeny bit infuriating. EVERY. TIME; This goes out to you, career focused adults who ironically fail to see how career focused a blog can be!

I'm embracing the angst with this little playlist, which I like to imagine playing in the background of 'The Virgin Suicides' and the like. Cue Ben and Jerry's, nail polish and lots of hairbrushing whilst staring out of a window at a sunset. Oooh, so angsty. Note that I've also kept it to songs with female vocals just to amp up the oestrogen. Enjoy.



Songs as Follows:
Cherry Glazerr//Bloody Bandaid
Best Coast//When The Sun Don't Shine
Le Tigre//Eau D'Bedroom Dancing
Siouxsie and the Banshees//Dear Prudence 
Wolf Alice//White Leather
Yeah Yeah Yeahs//Modern Romance
Desire//Part II

Sunday, 7 June 2015

Donatella vibes @ Cinderella (in Opera?!)

Earrings (soz not v visible... they're art deco-y) // Penneys
Printed top // I've had it since I was 5 or so. Ha, you'll never find it
Wide legged silky (power) pants // River Island
Nude suede wedges // Penneys

Last week we started off our third term of Waterford Young Arts Critics with a trip to Lismore to see a few exhibitions (Thanks to Lismore Castle Arts). We topped off the night with a preview of Lismore Music Festival's 'Cinderella', performed through opera. I for one thoroughly enjoyed the day, and opera being, well, opera, we all kitted ourselves out accordingly in our smartest rags.. Even if the whole thing wasn't as posh as we were expecting. I mean, it was opera in a castle.. Who'd have thought otherwise?!

I opted for my new favourite pants on earth; They're wide-legged, silky and damn they're a statement, but still incredibly fun; I can't wait to try wearing them in different ways. There's something about them that oozes Azealia Banks.. Or is it just me?! I paired the magnificent butt holders with a simple little printed string top and my best statement earrings. Maybe it was just the fact that I was going to Italy the following day (Jetsetter chick; Just heading out to Verona after a late night at an opera.. it's all G x), but I felt very powerful and sassy like a mini Donatella. The earrings and the pants together just gave me her sassy flare, minus all the surgery.. Clothes are just like a personality altering, self esteem placebo, innit?


Soulja Boy Donatell'em (sorry)

Friday, 17 April 2015

RIP, Hun



 Necklace; Topshop
Top; Penneys
Stole; Penneys
Skirt; The Vintage Factory
Heels/Sandal things; TK Maxx

I always feel weird posting outfits after wearing them out places.. Or even worse, wearing them after posting them.. The fear of being accused of outfit repeating is very real for me. Thankfully, no one has called me such a thing yet other than myself. I wore this in February - I'm posting it two months on. Grand.

There was a brief period there where I had a social life that wasn't in daylight hours (!!!!!!!) and it was cool, so cool that I bought silver diamanté stilts (ootd soon, maybe..?!?!!) and tainted my milk bottle complexion with some.... bronzer - I shuddered as I typed that. I escaped the curse by the skin of my teeth, thanks to my addiction to being productive/boring, approaching exams and, well, no more invites (ty lads xx). And so with the raving, all hun tendencies disappeared. Ah, the demons are gone.. I thought I'd show you the remnants anyway, as above: My Hun Spirit Animal was any Hun From Past Eras, But Mainly The 90s - note the suit-y, simple type getup and an added bit of craic with the mad stole.

 I don't know if anyone's copped it yet, but I seem to have categorised my style into either a) Sassy-Daria-Morgendorffer-IRL or b)Cher Horowitz, the former being daytime and the latter being nighttime. I need some new fictional characters to base my wardobe on - suggestions are welcome!