Posted by / Category Cultural Differences /

Well, what can I say? Today, I am embracing my British side. And I must admit that it feels good. In fact, I find it liberating. What happened? Well, I think that I am suffering from some sort of post-marathon blues. That’s my excuse anyway, and I am sticking to it. To make matters even worse, I am having a bad hair day. And in France I would have thrown a hissy fit just because of this. But over here, I must admit that I don’t care. My British side tells me that I can’t be perfect all the time. So here it is: I am having a bad hair day and it’s alright. Shit happens.


As for make-up, well, what make up? I can’t be bothered. You see, you’ve got to let your skin breathe a bit. And what’s the point? I don’t have any formal meetings today anyway.

Am I allowed to admit that I love leggings and trainers even when I don’t exercise? It’s just, well, comfy, and I can’t be bothered to put on a more formal outfit. I also love taking my husband’s socks instead of the usual knee socks. It’s so much easier, and I don’t know about you, but I keep getting a brown knee sock and a black one. When it was happening to me in Paris, it was making me really upset. As in, I would run to the nearest supermarket to buy a new pair. Now I don’t care any more. Come to think of it, men socks are just, well, warmer, which is nice in London. If he complains a bit about the fact that his socks seem to disappear, well, tough luck. I really don’t know what happened. Where did all the socks go? No idea. None whatsoever.

Obviously in France you can’t be the only one without any make-up, or having a bad hair day, or wearing leggings on a work day. You have to conform to the pressure to look good. Or at least I felt I had to. In France, there was a judgey vibe. Not over here, and it feels really nice. I am not the only one wearing leggings and with huge bags under my eyes. And do you know what? I like it.

Tonight I bumped into another mum on my way back home. We were both looking a bit dishevelled and not ashamed to admit it. She then said.

“Don’t you think it’s wine o’clock?”

You’ve got to love the British sisterhood. I said ‘Cheers’ and off we went. I am feeling much, much better now. It’s really good to be British tonight.