There aren't many upsides to losing your job. The novelty of watching neighbours twice a day soon wears off.
For me, however, the only good to come out of my joblessness is a renewed and healthy hippy-spirit. At first, not buying stuff that wasn't completely necessary was hard and oft upsetting. I like shiny things. But after a while, it became almost liberating, and was one of the few things that made me feel good about myself.
I liked to think that I'd worked out what was and what wasn't important, and that even when I eventually get back to work, I shall hang on to this waste-not-want-not mentality.
For the past few weeks people have asked me what I want for my birthday, and I've said "well, nothing really" and actually meant it, instead of saying "well, nothing really" and actually meaning two pairs of Kurt Geiger shoes, Prada perfume, nice underwear, posh make-up and a pony.
Then my Mum came to London as a pre-birthday treat. She again asked the birthday question, to which I gave the above reply. She then suggested, "Well, if there's nothing specific you'd like, perhaps I could just take you shopping for some new clothes, or whatever you fancy."
Oh my. In my self-constructed hippy hierarchy of badness, seeking and buying a specific item, as in, 'I need a dress for a wedding' is pretty bad, because you never really need a new frock, but at least it's not just buying for the sake of buying. The rampant consumerism my Mummy dearest had suggested was the most heinous hippy crime imaginable...
Needless to say, I took her up on this fantastic offer quicker than you can say Mega-Topshop and four hours later I came home with a pair of sandals, two frocks and two boxes of biscuits from Julian Graves as some kind of offering to appease the Gods of hippydom.
I hope they like organic, wheat-free Thai-style seaweed crackers.....
For me, however, the only good to come out of my joblessness is a renewed and healthy hippy-spirit. At first, not buying stuff that wasn't completely necessary was hard and oft upsetting. I like shiny things. But after a while, it became almost liberating, and was one of the few things that made me feel good about myself.
I liked to think that I'd worked out what was and what wasn't important, and that even when I eventually get back to work, I shall hang on to this waste-not-want-not mentality.
For the past few weeks people have asked me what I want for my birthday, and I've said "well, nothing really" and actually meant it, instead of saying "well, nothing really" and actually meaning two pairs of Kurt Geiger shoes, Prada perfume, nice underwear, posh make-up and a pony.
Then my Mum came to London as a pre-birthday treat. She again asked the birthday question, to which I gave the above reply. She then suggested, "Well, if there's nothing specific you'd like, perhaps I could just take you shopping for some new clothes, or whatever you fancy."
Oh my. In my self-constructed hippy hierarchy of badness, seeking and buying a specific item, as in, 'I need a dress for a wedding' is pretty bad, because you never really need a new frock, but at least it's not just buying for the sake of buying. The rampant consumerism my Mummy dearest had suggested was the most heinous hippy crime imaginable...
Needless to say, I took her up on this fantastic offer quicker than you can say Mega-Topshop and four hours later I came home with a pair of sandals, two frocks and two boxes of biscuits from Julian Graves as some kind of offering to appease the Gods of hippydom.
I hope they like organic, wheat-free Thai-style seaweed crackers.....
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