Lesson learned (or "of Google and break-ups")

There is a lesson I learned the hard way, after my (in)famous break-up.
And, after a conversation with my sister about this topic, I promised myself as a New Year resolution: never forget this lesson.

But to tell you what this lesson is I'll have to start from the beginning.

So what is the main thing you do in the months days after a break-up? I'll tell you: Google.
It initially happens because you realize that your friends and family will shun you and never talk to you ever again if you dare to ask the same question for the 346676564th time.
So you turn to Google.
"Because Google will know what I have to do, Google will KNOW what is gonna happen."
And then it becomes an addiction.

So this is more or less the history of google searches in the first month after a break-up (or a divorce).

Chronologically:

"how to overcome break-up"

"will he change his mind after break-up"

"should I text my ex"

"what to eat when you don't want to eat"

"methods of suicide"

"suicide helpline"

" how to make him regret break-up"

"how to find new boyfriend"

"too much alcohol after break-up normal?"

"how long break-up pain lasts"

"single after 30 will I ever get married"

"break-up desperate help"

"WILL I DIE ALONE???"

The outcome of all this is to basically prove you that every self-help website is telling you the same obvious stuff (find a hobby, see your friends, go out to find someone else. Wow, genius!) and the only effect of visiting Oprah's website compulsively is just to make you feel like everyone else is so good at handling their traumas and getting their shit together except you.

Long story short the leaves are falling, the snow is coming, the birds are singing: a year has passed and you find yourself still googling stuff like:

"do I need therapist after break-up"

There must be something wrong here. There must be something very wrong when after a year you're still treating damn google like an oracle and source of all wisdom.
After three years a while I realized what was going wrong. I realized why I couldn't find peace and I needed to ask compulsively my friends, my sister, my mother, my aunts, my grandma, my dad, the bottom of my empty glass of wine AND google the same questions over and over again.

And the reason was: I needed a solution. But there simply was no solution.

I needed a solution to feel good fast, because I was surrounded by people and situations that were constantly telling me how I should feel better already, how I shouldn't be selfish and think only about my pain, how I should always put a smile on when I'm at a social event even if I the only thing I want is to burst into tears and scream that it's not fair, how I should behave at work like nothing happened because otherwise it's not professional.

So I needed a quick and easy fix to make myself acceptable from society again and to find a way to make the pain slightly more bearable.
And google is so good at quick and easy fixes.

But no. It doesn't work like that.
There is one thing that no google link will tell you, and it took me three years of therapy and painful conversations with my inner self to realize it.

That is the lesson, probably the biggest I've learned, and somehow I hope that you, unknown girl who is googling "how to overcome break-up" will stumble upon this page and will read this.
Dear unknown girl, I hope that this will help you to save the 40 euros a week I spent in shrinks and spend them in shoes the real important things instead.

The lesson is: you have to allow yourself to feel like shit. Simple as that.
You don't have to google how to feel better because there is simply no way to feel better so soon. And you don't have to. You have the right to feel as bad as you want in the ways that you feel more suitable for you and as long as you need. 

We live in a society that makes you feel like you have to be perfect all the time. A society that makes you feel like you have to please everyone around you with your amazing abilities and extremely well developed savoire faire: your parents, your boss, your friends, the friends of your friends, the attendees of a work meeting, your colleagues... A society that at the first sign of stress or sadness pushes you to look for a psychologist, a yoga course, a cat cafe' for pet therapy and three new hobbies to keep yourself busy. This is a society that doesn't even contemplate the concept of "recovery time". It's a society that, basically, doesn't allow you to feel like shit.
And the worst part is, we are so used to this mentality that if we do actually feel like shit (which is actually very human and natural and healthy) we feel guilty .

The key is to remember one very simple thing: something bad happened to you, you are ENTITLED to feel bad about it.

That's it, this is the lesson I learned, and I feel like it will help me a lot in many other parts of my life and in my next break-ups (yep, I'm totally Queen Optimism).

Less Google, more acceptance of my weaknesses. And a little patience.

And happy New Year everyone :)

xx Al

All the cool girls: Mimi Thorisson

There are many good bloggers out there. Bloggers that are really nice to read and produce very inspiring images, able to communicate a very precise idea and aesthetic in such an effective and charismatic way that you soon become addicted and find yourself craving for every new post.

There are bloggers that go even beyond that.
Somehow their website is so impregnated with their beautiful world and their genuine style that it becomes something web-trascendent.
Like, it's not even a blog anymore.
It's the essence of a lifestyle, a dream, an inspiration all together. It's the intoxicating mixed feeling of relating to them and at the same time aspiring to be like them.

For a long time I thought Garance Doré was the one and only I could put in this category of super-bloggers.
But a couple of years ago I discovered the blog of Mimi Thorisson, Manger, and I had to change my mind.
Basically, Mimi's website is a food blog (THE food blog, I'd say) but as you scroll through the pages you realize that it's actually much more than that.

Mimi is a Chinese-French beauty living in a countryside castle in Médoc, France, with her husband and a lot of kids and dogs (I honestly don't remember how many... but a lot).
Her blog documents visits to the local markets, walks in the beautiful French woods and rustic but somehow elegant fireplace-lit dinners.

The beautiful photos in her blog, by her Icelandic husband Oddur Thorisson, are able to make you actually smell the cheese platters and the duck sizzling in the pan and anticipate the taste of a gorgeous glass of champagne.

The recipes of Mimi are the quintessence of French food: seasonal, genuine and full of taste with a reminiscence of grandma's comfort Sunday food and the elegance of a Parisian bistrot.
And French style: Mimi enchants us with a very simple and chic beauty. You'll see her either in Repetto flats or Hunter boots, wearing a simple black dress with grace. Never blow-dried hair, never too much make-up.

I've been wanting to make a portrait of her almost since my very first visit to her blog, but my long illustration hiatus and that kind of feeling that "I'll never be able to render her beauty and the mood around her" blocked me until today.

And her wonderful world in the countryside of Médoc didn't intoxicate me alone: she became so famous with her blog that she has her own cooking show (La table de Mimi, on French TV) and first cookbook (A Kitchen in France: A Year of Cooking in My Farmhouse) and has appeared on countless magazine, websites and TV features.

But now I've talked enough, head over to her blog (and her Instagram @mimithor) and see for yourself.
You'll be so hypnotized by her style and the beautiful photos of her food that you'll find yourself drooling at the screen without even noticing ;)

xx Al

Random fashion illustration #2: Aquazzura shoes

I love Aquazzura.
There is something in their shoes that is just perfectly balanced. I think I've never seen a shoe designer able to infuse this perfect mix of femininity, modernity, elegance and sexiness in every single design of pumps and flats.
I don't know if it's the shape of the shoe itself, or the way the lace-up detail adds a special touch but I find myself drooling on almost every single model.
I will probably never be able to afford a pair but luckily the flattering and edgy vibe was quickly picked up by the fashion world a couple of years ago and the web is now over-flooded with cheaper alternatives in a similar style. It will never be the same, it will never be that perfect balance, but oh well, it's just for while we wait to become rich ;)
In the meanwhile, I might get this pair at Zara soon.

What about you? Do you like Aquazzura? And did you follow the lace-up pump and flat trend too?

xx Al

The random fashion illustration #1

I have been desperately looking for some time to write a blog post in the last days after my holidays, but time is incredibly short lately.
The adorable Belgian highway network is so crammed these days that my usual commute takes 4 hours a day (FOUR.HOURS.SERIOUSLY) instead of 2. Moreover, the managers of the project I'm working on had the brilliant idea of making me a team leader, so now the job is even busier than usual (goodbye lunch break blogging).
Needles to say, I try to save every single free minute to cuddle my cat draw a bit so the time left to put words on screen is more and more limited.

I would like to talk about so many things... How I don't deal with my holiday weight gain, my favourite hair products of the moment, my latest make-up crush... You know, all very important and deep stuff.
It really saddens me that the world will have to live without these gems of journalism for a while.

But I thought hey, I'm still drawing a lot! Why shouldn't I at least post my drawings? That really takes two seconds.
I still publish everything on Instagram but this blog is still my visual diary so why not posting everything here as well?

So in the coming days then I'll be posting my drawings, without too much text, random fashion illustration really, waiting to have the time to write and deliver the beauty/fashion post that will make the history of the WWW.

The first drawing of this series was inspired by a headband I saw on Zara. I really liked the atmosphere of the picture and off I went with brush and ink.
Hope you like it!

xxx Al

The right to be shocked

I thought I wouldn't say a word about what happened in Paris on Friday.
Honestly, I didn't think there was much to say. Just silence and respect.
And I couldn't talk about it. I didn't have an opinion about it. I was just feeling sad, and sick.
I spent my Sunday trying to process it all on my couch, with my cat on my lap and a heavy feeling of inertia.
Shell shocked, I thought that there was nothing meaningful enough that could be said in a moment like this.

But then I made the big mistake of opening Facebook.
And there they were, the Social Media Columnists.
Everyone and their mother has their opinion, their lesson, their sentence.

The right wing-minded people who shout slogans of death against all Muslims and refugees, in their ungrammatical and almost primitive language, and want all EU borders to be closed.
The wannabe-priests who mistook Facebook for a church where to give their sermon of good Christians.
The left wing, pseudo-intellectuals with their very predictable lessons on who you should be sorry for: "Thousands of people are dying in wars every day in the world, but you feel sorry for just 129 who died in Paris because it's part of the Western culture". Or that are publishing very well-argumented dissertations on how this is a lesson we deserved, how it's normal that it happened because of the wrong political choices of France.

Of all these, the latter kind of Social Media Columnists are the ones that are making me angry the most.
Maybe because it's the "group" that often shares my thoughts and ideology, the one that I usually relate the most to.
It makes me feel sick now.

And angry, especially because I wanted silence and now I am among the ones who are talking. It pisses me off how much I'm letting them get to me.

But I just need to let it out now, and I want to do it on my blog because I just need to let my anger out in my own personal place.
I know that if someone will read this they might not like it. I don't care.

To this kind of Social Media Columnists I just want to say one thing: just SHUT UP.

Why does everything always has to become a political debate? Why does such an atrocity has to become a tool to show to the world your Facebook wall how much of a critical thinker you are, how cool you are by getting your news only from independent sources, how not selfish and friend-of-the-World of you is to think of all victims of the wars that are happening globally instead of the "few" people who lost their lives on Friday in Paris?
Why does, in your point of view, feeling bad for Paris exclude feeling bad for everyone else?

We have the right to feel sad and we have the right to mourn who we want.
We have the right to be shocked.

All the cool girls: Léa Seydoux

Léa Seydoux portrait

I've always been crap at making portraits.
Really.

In theory, you could really make a portrait with astonishing similarities in 2 or 3 lines or brush strokes. Ever seen the work of David Downton? He's the master of portraits.
It's all a matter of catching the right particular that makes that face unique.

And nope, I can't.
I start correcting and correcting the sketch so many times in order to make it better and I end up with a face that doesn't even resemble the original anymore.

Which is pretty frustrating when all friends ask you a portrait for their birthday or Christmas and you have to say "I don't think I can, you know, I'm pretty shitty at portraiting people" and they think it's an excuse because you don't want to do it or because they think you think they're ugly (aaaah women and their insecurities) and in the end they just hate you. Pffff.

But there are girls, famous girls I mean, that I really admire and sometimes I find myself fantasizing about how I would draw them. Which colors would I choose? Which pose? And which mood would I try to convey?