This week, while staying at my parents’ house in England, I found myself in a true full-circle, mid-30s life lesson moment…

No clean undies. 😮‍💨

I’d only brought hand luggage with me from South Africa, forgot to do my laundry, and now here I was – forced to wear the underwear I left behind in my childhood wardrobe. Not the comfy, clean-girl cotton I now swear by, oh no. These were the vintage La Senza x Primark collab from hell.

Think: 10,000 stringy straps, lace in places lace should never be, and vibes that scream “circa 2011 club rat”.

Naturally, I Amazon Primed a fresh order of black cotton bedtime pants, trusty period undies (lifesavers), and a pack of basic black seamless thongs – aka the only underwear I wear these days. I’ve literally Marie Kondo’d my entire underwear drawer at home recently. One style. One colour. We love her.

Honestly, I feel like Steve Jobs. But make it gym-girl core.

💅 Girlhood was… a ride

I went to Cardiff Uni (for a year… then dropped out – when people ask what I studied, I say “not a lot”), and like every delulu 18-year-old, I used to GO THROUGH IT for a night out:

• 6-inch heels in the freezing cold ❄️
• Tiny skirts with no coat because the cloakroom cost £1
• Disco pants were the moment – tight black, high-shine and absolutely no breathability 😂
• And don’t even get me started on Primark fake tan – £1 and looked it. One time it rained before we even got to the first bar, and the tan literally washed off my arms so I was covered in white patches – raindrop-chic. Iconic.

I remember going to Carnage (that chaotic uni bar crawl where your entry ticket is a themed T-shirt), and my friends and I went dressed as police officers – complete with aviators, hats and one of those bras that had inflatable chicken fillets sewn in. I looked like a glamour model who’d got lost on the way to a hen do. Obsessed.

Speaking of Carnage, there was even a rumour (unconfirmed, but deeply believed at the time) that someone once got impaled on the spiked fence outside Oceana during Carnage once, so they had to switch up the final club on the route. Was it true? Who knows. But it lives rent-free in my head right next to the “don’t rock back on your chair or you’ll die” school myth.

🐭 Yes, there was a DEAD MOUSE in my hair extensions.

No, this is not a metaphor. My clip-in extensions lived in a plastic bag on the floor (classic uni decor), and one day we heard rustling. My uni boyfriend launched a water bottle at it from across the room (while we were squealing and hiding on the bed), and when we tipped the bag out… out flopped a DEAD MOUSE. In. My. Extensions. 💀

Immediate bin job. There are some things even Batiste can’t fix.

🩲 The underwear evolution is real.

Honestly, the real catalyst for this post was those rogue knickers from the early 2010s. I used to feel SO hot in them. Now? One stringy lace thong from that drawer nearly sliced me in half. I was like, who let this happen?

These days, I’m all about:
🖤 Black seamless thongs for the day
🖤 Comfy cotton briefs for bed
🖤 Period pants (life-changing)
Everything else has been banished.

👯‍♀️ The Freddie Ireland pants that never saw the light of day…

About five years ago, my bestie Emily (who is basically J-Lo, an actual icon) had on these black wet-look Freddie Ireland pants and looked STUNNING. Naturally, I went on their site to buy the same ones… but got the red version.
Red. Fake leather.
Because I was clearly the type of girl who wears those.
Reader, I am not.
They are camel-toe central, and I’ve never worn them. But do I get rid of them? Of course not. Because I might wear them. (No, I won’t.)

👗 And let’s not even start on the stuff I’ve bought and never worn…

It’s giving: aspirational energy, poor execution.

Let’s take the Gucci belt I bought about 8 years ago. Stunning? Yes. Did I even own a pair of jeans to wear it with? No. Not even one. I ended up selling it to a friend because I genuinely didn’t know what to do with it 💀

Then there’s the ASOS faux fur gilet still hanging in my wardrobe with the label on. I don’t know who I thought I was, but I definitely wasn’t her.

Every time I’m home, I donate a big bag of clothes to charity and slowly chip away at clearing my childhood room and wardrobe. The pieces I know I’ll wear get to stay, and the ones I might sell one day go into their own little Vinted pile.

But the reality is… I’m hardly ever in the UK for more than a week or two. So most of the time, I just open the wardrobe, clock the fake fur gilet still staring at me, and quietly close the door like it’s none of my business 🫣

🖤 The wardrobe glow-up

One of my biggest mid-30s life lessons?

Comfort is queen.

Last year, I had a full “I’m a grown-up now” wardrobe glow-up. I went all in on the capsule vibe:
🖤 Wide-leg trousers in black, cream, brown, white and navy
🤍 Basic fitted tops that go with everything
🤎 Elegant neutrals and comfy chic pieces

And honestly? Obsessed. I don’t wear them that much because I’m usually floating around in a cute mini dress in some sunny spot or in gym kit or pyjamas – but when I do get to go out for a nice dinner or a trip, I actually feel like I have clothes that make sense.

I wore a few of those pieces out in Spain last week and felt like a Pinterest board. And after my first rotation back in yachting last year, I flew home via Dubai and treated myself to the Dior platform sneakers of dreams. They are stunning. 10/10. No notes.

I’ve never been a fashion girlie, but my current vibe of gym kit + quiet luxury basics is finally making sense.

Now, when I go to dinner, I don’t feel like I’m playing dress-up. I feel like… me.

✨ I’m officially in my soft girl era — and I love her.

No more:

• Purple and turquoise winged eyeliner that reached my temples
• Hair extensions that didn’t match my natural hair (AT ALL)
• Foundation from ASDA that comes in light, medium or dark.
• Tesco value vodka mixed with lime cordial (lemonade was too bulky for our cups)

Now, it’s:

• Green juice > cocktails
• Brunch > clubbing
• Late-night Kindle sessions > hangovers
• And a skincare routine that could rival Sephora’s entire stock list 🧴

I’ve gone from orange-tinted Oompa Loompa energy to… dare I say… vibrant goddess vibes. And while I’ll never judge that younger version of me (she was just trying her best with a £20 budget and no common sense), I’m soooo happy to be here now.

🎀 Ageing isn’t scary. It’s iconic and something we should be SO grateful for.

This week I realised I’m now the exact age that’s halfway between finishing school and turning 50.
And honestly? That blew my mind.

When I was younger, 30s and 40s felt like ancient history. But now I look at women like Kourtney and Kim Kardashian (both mid-40s) and think – yeah, we’re gonna be just fine. Probably better, actually.

I hope when my friends and I hit our mid-40s, we’re still brunching, doing puzzles in the crew mess, going to yoga, and wearing our favourite black seamless pants without a care in the world.

💭 Final musings from a mid-30s undies crisis:

• Evolving doesn’t mean changing who you are. Just upgrading the vibe.
• I still love the girl I was, even if she wore tan that washed off in the rain.
• Life now? Gym kit, good skincare, satin bonnets, and a white noise machine.
• ✨ Soft girl era, but structured ✨

To the girl I used to be – thanks for the memories. But also… thank god for evolution. 😌

✨ If you loved this post, you’ll probably enjoy No One Told Me This About Money — same unfiltered honesty, just with compound interest. 💅🏼