February 2016 Archive

Happiness and health trumps a baby's gender - Argus Friday 19th February 2016

Posted Tuesday 23rd February 2016   By Ericka Waller

I have three daughters. I wanted three boys. Want can’t change two XX chromosomes into XY ones however. Or so I thought. Two weeks after my emergency hysterectomy I just read that if I’d ditched eating oranges and not had sex on a full moon, I could have had my son. I never found out what colour we were having, pink or blue. If I’m honest I would have been disappointed third time round to be told I was carrying a girl. After a hard, fast and jolly painful labour, the words ‘congratulations, you have a daughter’ were music to my ears. All I cared about was a healthy baby.

Make-up should enhance looks, not mask them - Argus Friday 12th February 2016

Posted Monday 15th February 2016   By Ericka Waller

I found Sarah Vine’s vile column about Princess Kate's appalling make-up pretty funny in light of the fact that in her column photo, Sarah is sporting two slugs above her own forehead. She claims that Kate’s becoming the first woman to hold the appointment as Honorary Air Commandant of the Air Cadets was ‘entirely overshadowed by her right eyebrow being a good deal thicker and darker than its sister.’ She goes on to give Kate some make-up advice; saying ‘a tired, puffy eye always looks a lot worse with too much make-up, especially in shades of muddy purple. Just keep it chic and simple with eye brightening shades of pale pink and a soft, flattering line.’ I love that she has written this sage advice when her own make up gives her a slightly Eddie Izzard vibe. She ends her column by demanding Kate has a make-over. I think she’d be far better advising Kate, and every other woman who owns an eyebrow stencil, to have a ‘make-under’.

PT with Tommy Cuff: Session one, the Doms

Posted Monday 1st February 2016   By Ericka Waller

I was feeling nervous about my first PT session ever, before I walked into the Fitness Hub and saw that Tommy looked far better in leggings than me. Having met via Instagram where I filter the feck out of all my photos I felt shy and self-conscious, like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. You know, the morning after, when Richard Gere realizes her blonde hair is a wig. She tugs at it bashfully and says "Red". Gere says "better" and then they scoff pancakes. No such compliments and carbs from Tommy. He simply said "Right, we'd best crack on, lots to do"

I do laundry in pants, so am I now sexist? - Argus Column Friday 28th January 2016

Posted Monday 1st February 2016   By Ericka Waller

When I saw the window display for Boux Avenue my first thought was ‘Oh good their bras have been made to survive the washing machine’. I thought it was a positive thing and instantly went and bought one. Nothing worse than the wire in your new bra pinging out in the first wash. Not that I wash my bras that often, who does? Perhaps the same people who get offended at window displays, in this instance Brighton student Sarah Derby, aged 23 who said "I understand sex sells but this window displays a picture of women as sexualised domestic beings. They seem to be saying that to be sexy you also need to be able to do the laundry.” Poor Sarah seems overwhelmed by the task of being sexy. I must say I don’t feel under the same level of pressure and can often be seen standing near the tumble drier naked waiting for my favourite pair of pants to dry. (Marks and Spencer, seamless range. All the comfort of large knickers, but with no visible line showing through leggings.)

When nothing gets children to sleep despair... Argus Friday 28th January 2-16

Posted Monday 1st February 2016   By Ericka Waller

When the alarm went off at 7am this morning I was so tired I cried. Getting out of bed, I felt as if I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. In actuality, I was pinned to my pillow by my three children. I'd done all I could to get them down in their own beds. They'd had a warm bath with lavender and chamomile bubbles, followed by a gentle rub with a warm towel and then a massage with Neals Yard oil. I tucked them into bed like a stern matron tucks in a patient, hospital corners, and all so tight they were unable to turn. I switched on twinkling fairy lights, lit the sandalwood oil burner and read books while simultaneously rubbing their backs, then finished off with a relaxing playlist on Spotify. This heady concoction of sleep aids, teamed with the fact I don't get any sleep had me drifting off like a baby (not one of mine obvs). I was woken by the girls jumping up and down on the bed screaming Harry Potter spells at one another ‘Avacado Kavado’.

Should tweets have real life consequences - Argus Friday 24th January 2016

Posted Monday 1st February 2016   By Ericka Waller

Cat works in a nursery. She does a great job and the kids all love her. She’s young and ambitious so puts long in long hours, which annoys her boyfriend Nathan. They break up. She goes for a week in the sun with her best friend Sam. They go to Playa de las Américas in Tenerife. At night they go out dancing. Sam photos Cat on the balcony before they head off down the Strip, and then later in the bar, two sunburnt faces grinning into the phone. More drinks, more photos. They meet some lads from Bournemouth and end up in a limbo competition on the beach at 5am. Upon her return, Cat’s boss calls her into the office. “The thing is Cat, there have been complaints from some parents while you were away”.