I seriously cannot believe I've been at this blogging caper for a year.

It seems like only yesterday Bridie furiously messaged me (from the next desk) in all caps after one of my hilaire zingers: 

START A BLOG. NOW.

I'm all "Yeah but what do I blog about?"

What indeed? Well, I wasn't sure at first but it has settled into being "things I like", which is mostly shopping, fashion and style, beauty and the occasional life-based anecdote and product review. That isn't to say I don't like things I don't blog about, like parenting, travel or eating food for example, it just seems to be what works so here I am, giving no cares about niches.




I've really enjoyed my blogging - apologies, I'm going to use the word - journey so far. (Obvs, or else I'd have shelved it ages ago). It has given me an opportunity to engage online and in person with some really rad people. This is a big thing for me, as I am an introverted showpony and navigating a room full of strangers can be difficult and stress-inducing although give me a stage and a microphone and I will happily address you all and with any luck, make you laugh.

Reading other blogs has also been both entertaining and educational. What HAVE I been doing on the internet all this time? I've picked up beauty hacks, fashion tips and tip-offs to sales and bargains as well as followed along with this last year in their blogging lives.

I've also been lucky enough to connect with a few brands, attend a few events and appear in the media which I so wasn't expecting within the first year. I pictured toiling away, writing for friends and family and maybe the occasional weirdo random for at least six years before anything like that came my way so I am really grateful and proper flattered to have achieved some of these things within the first year.

Almost Posh started life as Ghetteaux Posh and was titled such for about four months until I changed it in January this year. Kids, make sure you really love your blog title before you go around buying up domain names and creating user profiles and gmail addresses. Also, don't go for some made-up spelling to be witty and cute. This also applies to life in general.

I also had a hot pink and yellow theme going on.



Before going a bit less Impossible-Mission-on-the-Commodore-64.



Now on to the new look!

One of the Kardashian/Jenner kids turned 18 recently and allegedly celebrated with plastic surgery so I thought I'd follow in the same vein and give the blog a new look to celebrate the first anniversary because anything a celebrity does is okay by me.

I commissioned this hand-drawn illustration via Fiverr from user fuchsia mea who created this fab banner of "me" next to the famous Rundle Mall's Balls from a couple of reference photos and a very dodgy pencil sketch, keeping it proper real with my Target and Kmart bags!

Well . . . when I say keeping it proper real . . . this is obviously not to scale. In fact, in reality I am not nearly even as tall as one ball. And I have a little more flesh on my bones. Let's call it artistic licence. 

I tweaked around with colours, fonts etc. to match and popped up a new pic for the About Me photo. On my blogging "to-do" list is to obtain a proper headshot but for now, the old iPhone will do.

Here are a few of my favourite post labels from the year.

Throwback Thursday

No-Buy July

Fashion 

Beauty

Thanks to everyone who has stopped by to read, comment or thrown a like my way and I look forward to the next year of blogging good times!  

Today marks the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli landing, so on this Anzac Day, I wanted to pay tribute to my great uncle Henry John (Jack) Palmer of the 50th Battalion AIF, who spent time at Anzac Cove in 1915 before being killed in action in France in 1917.

In Cairo 1915

Some of his personal letters, record books and other items have been donated to the Australian War Memorial. They have been in contact and requested to use Jack's images, and possibly some of his words, during the Anzac Day commemorations at Villers-Brettoneaux, which is a great honour for our family.



Below is a letter he wrote to his aunt (my great grandmother) from Gallipoli.

Pay book showing Jack at Anzac Cove

*******************************
Gallipoli, Turkey 8 -9-15

My dear Aunts

Just a line to let you know I am still well. I received your letter today dated 22nd July with Albert's enclosed and was glad to hear they are having a good season over there, we are having lovely weather here, one couldn't wish for a better climate. We have had no rain yet, although it has threatened once or twice, winter will be here in about a month. I don't know how know we will stand the cold, they have snow here, it's quite cold enough of a morning now for me, the wind is very bleak. I'm well off for warm clothes, I expect they will issue us with winter clothing, if we stay here we shall need them.

I got a parcel from home last mail with 4 pairs of socks, 2 singlets, 3 handkerchiefs and a pot of ???, also some lollies, it couldn't have come at a more opportune time as I was in need of clean socks and singlets, I haven't been able to get down to the sea to do any washing for a week or two which is our only chance we get to wash anything. We get plenty of water to drink but none to do any washing with, not even to wash our face, I've been two or three weeks without a wash, I wet the corner of my towel and wipe my face, that's all, a lick and a promise.

I might tell you, I've promised myself a lot of things when I get back besides a wash. One doesn't get any luxuries here. I don't expect it but still, I wish they would change the menu sometimes. We get bacon for breakfast, which is generally fat and you know how I like fat, boiled rice for dinner and for tea, bully beef stew but we're all hungry and eat it up.

There is no mistake, hunger is the best sauce. We get 3 spoonfuls of rum every other day, it's very strong and my word, it warms the cockles of your heart, I don't like it but it keeps a man's pecker up.
I found it hard here for a start but I'm quite used to it now, while I am writing this letter, the shrapnel are bursting all around me, of course I'm in my dugout. There is pieces of shell lobbing just outside but I take no notice. I've been missed by pieces of shell by inches only, but a miss is as good as a mile any day. I run no unnecessary risks in the course of one's duty, one has enough dangers to face without taking risks.

I haven't much more room, so will close, hoping this finds you well as it leaves me.

I remain your loving nephew

Jack

xxxx

PS excuse bad handwriting as I haven't a roller top desk.

Kiss May and Wally for me.

*******************************


Lest we forget.

So, a few years ago, if you had asked me what I thought someone with a life coach looked like, I’d have described someone very much like this:

"I'm chanting as we speak."

You know the sort.

Gullible, weak, easily led. Someone who hands over their money to any kind of lifestyle program, motivational speaker or spiritual leader. Someone who can’t get out of bed without having a lucky colour channelled for them or chanting affirmations about how worthy they are. Someone who needs their behaviours enabled and validated. Someone who has to "activate the goddess within".

As it happens, this is what someone with a coach looks like:

"It's TEMT, sweetie. TEMT."

I know, I was surprised myself when I realised it.

Over the course of my career, I've been lucky enough to work with some pretty top-level humans.

Brilliant, funny, smart, kind, compassionate – so many of my long-term mates are all people I’ve shared an office space with at one time or another. I’ve been at my current place of employment for nine years and the people I’ve worked with have been with me through some pretty awesome life events; engagement, wedding, milestone birthday, pregnancy, birth and return to work after maternity leave.

They’ve also been with me through the “need a nudge in the right direction/kick in the pants/reality check” times and the seriously rough proper counselling and doctor’s appointment times. I've been very lucky to have such a support network and work with what I call "weekend friends"; people who you want to spend time with out of work hours and who are there for you for coffee chats, lunch, cheeky early minutes, outfit photo shoots and endless messaging via the internal communication system.