Ten years ago, I thought I knew what 25 would look like: all financially-savvy and head-to-toe glamourous. Nope. Turns out plenty of us are blagging this bit after the uni years, and pushing back the age at which we’re really expected to have it under control (30’s the new 25, right?). Here’s the recent proof that I’m one of them. Sound familiar?
- Cutting your own hair
Stop this madness. A fringe trim is like £5 in London/free everywhere else in the honest world. Maybe give up your two coffees out this week, or walk to work? Otherwise, yeah, sure: sign yourself up to a fortnight of trying to plait your fringe like you’ve seen on Pinterest, or make hair hankies a thing again. That’ll work. - Wearing odd socks
Best unattributed piece of advice I’ve ever read: stop buying patterned socks. Choosing all one colour and style = less swearing at your underwear drawer. - Sporting chipped nail polish
One hour, that lasted. - Using hair appliances in lieu of a tumble drier/iron
Yes, there have beenmanyone or two occasions where I’ve straightened something I’m already wearing… GHDs are not made for synthetic materials, it turns out. AVOID. - Not having spares – of anything
Beds, bedrooms, towels, tupperware, chargers… basically, guests need to come with their effects in tow, and be prepared to sleep on the sofa. - Also – the absence of cupboards with a name before them
Medicine… Spice… Linen… Stop mocking me. - Blu-tacking your pictures up
Hey, these walls are rented. - When improvising in the kitchen goes wrong
Who are these people who can knock something delicious up out of leftovers and store cupboard ingredients? Anytime I try I’ll just get some new, unimproved and underwhelming version of ratatouille. The other day I had turkey meatballs and decided to whip up a yoghurt dip with mint, peas and beetroot. I thought it would be vibrant and fresh. It was a weird hot-cold mix of mush. I’m not ready to graduate from the recipe books just yet. - When improvising with cleaning goes well – and you tell no-one
All I’m saying is, one time I spilt some of my moisturiser on the bathroom floor and it brought the tiles up a treat, so now I occasionally do it on purpose… - Putting off any kind of personal paperwork
Unless it’s a Visa for an imminent trip, or a replacement ID or debit card, it ain’t happening in a hurry. Not a January goes by where I don’t think HALLELUJAH that there’s a website which can work out taxes for you. - Budgeting
Here’s a maths question for you: Vikki (25) moved to London three years ago as an intern and earned £X annually, saving 10% every month. She now earns £Y annually, and saves 25% every month. How is Vikki still broke? SERIOUSLY SOMEBODY ANSWER THIS. (I think it has something to do with a weakness for Starbucks and overpriced gym gear.) - Never stocking up on those bits you should buy before you need them
Safety pins, plasters, shoe polish, dry shampoo, a tiny sewing kit. - Not doing the small jobs before you forget to
Didn’t wash your brand new lunchbox out when you got home, did you? Forgot about it in the bottom of that bag for the next two days, didn’t you? Enjoy next week’s lunches tainted with the smell of old quinoa. - Ignoring all other logic and reason if the internet says so
*Angling denim-clad thighs under the hand-dryer*
“My weather app said 15 and cloudy….” - Networking at it’s worst
What happened to that promise of walking in and knowing how to own a room? Funny how the magazines didn’t teach you how to get out of the conversation with some random person in finance who thinks your name is Nicky. - Making (and breaking) daily resolutions to improve your lifestyle
I will drink more water. I will give up snacks/dessert/refined-sugar. I will get up one hour earlier and walk to work. I will avoid screens two hours before bed. I will… oh, sod it. - Looking at the wine menu like it’s in another language
No, I don’t know my grapes – let’s skip this routine and just order the bottle that sounds like what we had last time. - (Reluctantly) supporting the big dogs
Oh, I love the idea of buying that beautiful coffee table read from the cutesy independent book store – but it’s SO much cheaper on Amazon. I know, I’m a terrible person.
