Je Ne Sais Quoi: What Is Style?

Style is simply having a sense of who you are.  I’ve had style since the womb. Quite literally.  I realize not everyone gets so lucky, but it’s a state of mind, an art form. It’s about being comfortable in your own skin, a logo to your personality and a trademark to your soul.

When I was little I would prance around the house singing to Dolly Parton in my Mum and Nan’s highest of heels.  The world was my stage and the hair spray bottle was my microphone. Needless to say, I’m still working on my voice.  But to my surprise when I was  accepted to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in Los Angeles and told by the Director that I had one of the best portfolios that they had viewed in years, it was one of the best days of my life.  I knew that it was a part of who I was.  The thing is, style, oh yes, style is something that I do for myself. I dress to please myself and myself alone.  Without which I would feel simply dull.  I’m not saying it’s the clothes that make the person, but you may as well have a little fun with it.

To have that certain je ne sais quoi, you must emphasize a life of passion.  This can come in many forms.  For me it shines through in ways of leisurely pastimes, charm and cultivation of life’s simple pleasures.  One might think you need extra zeros on your paycheck to manifest this type of lifestyle however it comes from within, it comes from happiness and from happiness comes the best style.

As Donna Karen once said, “It’s when the woman, her individuality and spirit comes through, she uses clothes to express who she is and how she feels.”

Investing in pieces that are both couture as well as thrifty is a high all on its own.  A sensational form of art and a vision that even Picasso would fail to uphold to the likes of the fashion canvas.  However, the beauty of style can be anything to anyone and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as the magic and experience within the rules of fashion is that they are made to be broken.  Obey your gut, do what you like best and know that trends are momentary, be faithful to your own taste because what YOU truly like will never go out of style.

Love,

Britt x

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Chat BS with B&S For Your AM:

Some people may think it is strange that I also recorded the audio of Steve buzzing my hair, but what they need to understand is memories.  Now at this point in my life, nostalgia and memories is something I thrive on.  Chemo and cancer can take a toll on your thoughts and your memory due to all of the drugs, and so forth.  It’s important for me to capture the big moments, but also the little moments like this.  Our little conversations that are silly and I will cherish forever.  It was during the whole  length of while Steve was buzzing my hair.  I hope you enjoy and get a bit of a laugh.

Happy Friday,  beauties!

Britt x

Sing Like Dolly: Past Predicts Present & Future 🔮

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At two years of age, Dolly Parton was my idol.  In fact, I should have been the creator of an American Idol genre of entertainment, as my wide eyed vision of fame and the game was futuristic and quite unreal.

When I was younger, maybe eight, I asked my Mum to take me to a general “famous” audition to be a singer or an actress.  Aside from wanting to be just like my gorgeous Mum, I loved Dolly, Pasty, Marilyn, Edie and I can’t leave out, Mary Poppins .  For as far back as I can recall, I genuinely believed that being just like them, a celebrity, would be a hop, skip and a jump (all things I thoroughly enjoyed, on a side note).  But, I figured it would be a one stop, shop type of audition.  A decision, a yes or a no and I was certain that I had what it would take.  I loved and thrived on creativity and being famous seemed like the closest thing to being an artist — something I sought out to be when I grew up.

Being the glue to my confidence, my Mum agreed to take me when I was in fifth grade to audition to be “famous”.  Never once putting down or deflating my fleeting dream, she knew that I wanted to entertain, express myself, and connect somehow artistically.  Turns out, I cannot act or sing and I did not become a star, as we all know.

Coincidently, the first time I ever lied was to my best friend, which happened to be  around the same time I asked my Mum to take me to Hollywood.  I had told my best gal, Crystal that I sounded just like Mariah Carey and gullibly she believed me.  It was only briefly, until one day we were in the parking lot of an Astro Van dealership, circa 1993 as her parents shopped for a new family vehicle.  Boldly she asked me to sing for her. I was stunned.  I hadn’t lied before and I didn’t know how to get out of it.  She saw right through me.

By the time fifth grade rolled around, my Mum kept her promise, enrolled me in acting lessons, reached out to agents, the whole kit and caboodle.  If I would have wanted her to be a stage mom, she would have gladly signed up for the job to support me in all forms of the spectrum. The thing was and still is, I’m only good at being myself.

I had been a ham since the day I was born and my life had been documented via camcorder, by the lovely and lively ladies in my life.  It was the 1980’s and quite the BIG deal to lug around a ridiculously large camera, but they did it regardless in an effort to capture my life.

Soon after my Mum’s persistence in trying to aid my flighty dream, I realized I am absolutely rubbish at being anything other than myself.  I couldn’t pretend.  I was unable to follow anyone else’s script outside of my very own.

All the while, creativity and imagination was never lost upon me.  I was just highly unaware at the time of how to channel it; how to open the pages of my fate in the creative realm.  If I were to take it back to those years, I’d say I always struggled being phoney.

As a young adult, sans/prior to the evil cancer taking residency in my insides, I came to terms with reality and realized I had to work in order to have an apartment and the things I lusted after.  My goals had shifted, my viewpoint was more mature and University and Corporate America seemed like my only option.

Strangely, in the seemingly thick of my career, unbeknownst to me that it would end in a few short  years, my Mum randomly said that she hoped that one day I would get compensated  for being one hundred percent, Britt; for being my true self, and sharing my creative mind with the world.  Of course I agreed and appreciated her love and wildly, amazing support, but I knew for a fact that a talent I was not.  I knew how to write, dress, decorate and apply makeup like a pro; but what did that all really mean in the real world? — nothing.  I still had to earn a paycheck if I wanted to dress well and I knew singing and/or acting was out of the question.  Feeling stuck was an understatement, but I didn’t see any other way of being an “artist” and was certainly not up for the “starving” bit.  I just wasn’t cut out for it and proceeded to work towards my career climbing the ladder, never looking back down until I hit a glass ceiling.

When I became sick and inevitably had to give up my career, I felt that I had lost a piece of who I was.  It was all I had known for the past ten years.  I was well groomed and manicured to continue moving on up.  The nine to five taught me savvy business lessons, yet oppositely managed to cripple my creativity, to no fault of the Company, but otherwise due to the type of industry, numbers were all that mattered.

Once I gave up that part of my life, I began to gain my creative power back and realized that even if you do have a regular 9 to 5, it doesn’t mean you should ever give up on YOURSELF, or what makes YOU happy and ultimately charges your soulful creativity.

Being sick, my mind often wanders off to far away places. Not necessarily Neverland, but rather memories from as early as I can recall.  I think back to the little girl who thought anything was possible, who fearlessly shared her creative self without any doubt or resistance towards caring what others opinions were.

Many may see cancer as a death sentence, but I see it as a destiny.  A journey.  A life that I may not have otherwise had the complete freedom to be who I am to my absolute core.

Nostalgia is a funny thing and history is just as important as the present, as  well as  whatever the future may hold.  Without gagging with cheesedom, the best thing you can do for yourself is to be your own muse, celebrate your own sense of self and celebrity (not literally), but I know you are picking up what I am laying down.  Stay true, be you, as everything unites and comes full circle in the end.

I’m not here to find fame, fortune or anything of the sort.  I’m here to be myself in hopes that I can inspire someone, perhaps expand my social ability to connect with people on deeper levels and tell my story along the way.

As I work on a project, a walk down memory lane has been an interesting one (not sure of the ETA — probably forever).  Finding out what makes me, me, brings great hope to share that with anyone that feels they want to experience the wonderful life I have lived and will continue to live on my journey as a cancer survivor and fighter, amongst other things I am blessed with.

It may not be blogging as often as I’d liked to, although that is my New Year’s resolution, but life. Am I right?  

Follow along on @bestillmyheartblog on Instagram and Be Still My Heart Blog on Facebook for everyday updates on my happenings.

PS-  BUT MY GOAL IS TO BLOG WAY MORE, BECAUSE DUH!

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Love forever and talk soon,

Britt x 

Let Me Be Clear:

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When I was a child, maybe six or seven, I told my cousin that my favorite color was clear. He argued with me, exclaiming that clear was in fact not a color.   We pretty much grew up as brother and sister, loving and arguing as such. Rumor has it, I was an extremely bossy and demanding child, in which case not much has altered. Nevertheless, my beloved cousin and I made it through my dictator phase and recently reminisced over the phone about that brief, clear conversation during our adolescence. Cracking up at the transparent ridiculousness of it all, we ended the call. The urge to suddenly psycho analyze myself came over me.  

What was it about this quirky “favorite color” of mine and why would it make sense throughout the common theme of my life?

I was on it.

Clear.  Clear?  Clear!  Suddenly everything seemed clear as day.  Throughout my entire life I have craved clarity and even more so now that I am on a journey of finding my true self.  Understanding my story and the purpose of my set of circumstances, has become one of the driving forces that continues to keep up my resiliency.

Without going into too much detail, there were some befogging things about my youth.  An American with a British accent — Great Britt, my loved ones would call me.  My Mum was a teenager when she brought me into this world and just a short while later my biological father died at a very young age. Heartbreakingly, my Granddad soon followed, passing away from cancer that rapidly took him at forty-nine, leaving him to depart in a matter of months.

Cancer, son of a bitch.

Because I didn’t have a father in my younger years, before my Dad adopted me, my Granddad was my first love and his death was both devastating and confusing all at once. Many tragedies took place in the short amount of time I had been on earth and I didn’t realize at the time how much all of these events would shape me as a human.

Material items were abundantly gifted to me from the strong women that raised me; never leaving me without anything, especially love.  Even still, I always felt a pinch unclear about a lot.

Around the same time I had originally professed my favorite color to my cousin, I met my very best friend, Crystal.  Coincidence in her name? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was shimmering kismet.  My attraction to her from the very beginning was her ability to be completely transparent, even to this day.  She is the person that I can count on to tell me when I am making reckless decisions, or make me cry because she gives it to me straight instead of blowing smoke up my ass.  Tough love at its finest and as always, crystal clear.

Fast forward twenty plus years and my life’s mission is to expose myself; as open as the air.  Make the most out of myself, while welcoming people along for the ride.  I’m working everyday for a clear vision as to why I am here and a purpose as to how I have been blessed time and time again after coming so intensely close to death.

One thing is clear for certain; clarity comes from within, as well as the people you surround yourself with and exploring your core being. From there, life becomes as clear as the sunniest day you ever did see.
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Love,

Britt xx

PS:  Thanks for the memories, Aust.  Clear for life. xx

My World in Preview:

Ohm,

Britt x