The friend that made Me, Me {Clare}

Morning all, it's Aisling here. This morning I'm like the velvet-voiced continuity announcers on the television, guiding you gently into today's feature. I have rehearsed what I want to say and my script is mounted on navy and tan stripy card, to match my dress.

It's simple really. You're about to get to know a woman you've (probably) never met before. I've only been in the same room as her once and I didn't even break breath to her. And yet I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. For not only did this woman help shape Clare into the person that Andy would one day marry, she is partly responsible for the wonder that is one of my best friends on this blue and green spherical planet.

One day I'll actually speak to her. Maybe, if I'm not too intimidated by her amazing hair. But when I do, I'll be sure to say 'thank you'...

My name is Clare and I am a fully fledged make-up-aholic.

I *may* (read ‘definitely') have in the past, seriously considered whether to stop and apply make-up when a fire alarm has gone off in the middle of the night. Fortunately sanity has always reigned, but still for a second, the doubt was there.

I like to make an effort, nay, I NEED to make an effort with my appearance. I enjoy the process. I enjoy spending my hard earned cash on the latest beauty ‘magic’ product, and then excitedly trying it out. I like wearing clothes that (supposedly) fit and even sometimes flatter me. I even sometimes enjoy that feeling that looking your best can inspire. That ‘hell yes I actually look good, I’m going to hold my head up high and walk into a room’ feeling.

But I never used to be like this. Rewind to somewhere around 1995. I was a shy, terribly under-confident person, who hated the way I looked, and would avoid making eye contact with anyone for fear that they MIGHT ACTUALLY LOOK BACK AT ME and then the world would actually implode (I knew this for certain.)

And boys. Boys were to be avoided at all costs (in fairness, looking back, that was not such a bad position to take, if only I could have kept up that stance until my early 20’s I would have avoided a lot of problems).

I didn’t wear make-up. At all. To put make-up on would have only meant that I  felt that I had something to enhance, which I truly believed I didn't. I had mousy curly hair that I scraped back with a scrunchy. (Aside: Scrunchies! Oh god, the colours I had. I never had one of those multicoloured ones though – was never cool enough for that).

I was painfully thin just because that’s the way I was built (although that didn’t stop one ‘well-meaning friend’ going to our head-of-year to tell him they thought I was anorexic, leading to a highly embarrassing moment where the headmaster swooped into the canteen in his big black cloak, bought me a plate of chips and sat with me until I had eaten every last one. No. Really. Because had I had anorexia, THAT would have been the way to solve it. Obviously). This evident lack of body fat led to an all too evident LACK OF BOOBAGE -  boobs, the seeming minimum entrance requirement for 'the cool gang', which even now  at five months pregnant I am still woefully lacking - how is this fair please?

But enough of this description of sad pathetic little Clare – where is this friend I’m supposed to be talking about?

1996 – enter Helen, or Hel to her friends me (a name which I have always had to explain to people, as though I just plucked the sound ‘Hel’ out of the air, and it had no relation to the name ‘Helen’ in the slightest).



She may actually kill me for posting this picture. Sorry Hel.

Hel was (is) tall, and thin but with those all important curves, and had jealousy inducing long blonde STRAIGHT hair (oh, how I was envious of the straightness of her hair – I thank all that is holy for the invention of hair straighteners).  We would never have crossed paths had we not been paired up in one fateful chemistry lesson, when we realised that we shared a passion for playing the fool, ignoring the teacher, and setting those little wooden splints on fire in the sink (sorry Mr Ball).

On a uni field trip - once again looking active and engaged in the learning process.

Our friendship grew beyond pointless petty vandalism during science lessons, to the point where we would spend all day at school together, and then go home and spend hours on the phone to one another, hanging up every  59 minutes 48 seconds so as to keep it within the BT free one-hour deal, and thus limit the whinging from the parents. Who knows what we were talking about.

The first Party With Alcohol that we went to. This was obviously before the alcohol part because I am still upright. (Also, for clarification, no, I am not naked)

I went out ‘into town’ for the first time with Hel. I went to my first Party With Alcohol with her. I had my first snog to Peter Andre's Mysterious Girl after being encouraged by her that I COULD DO THIS.  By being friends with her, I was given a conditional pass into the cool gang, despite my lack of cleavage.

(Side note: Peter Andre actually came to our school and did a concert for us. I have no idea how this happened, or why, but it remains my closest brush with fame to date.) 

Hel and I on my hen do. Only the playing of 'Don't Stop Me Now' could inspire this sort of happiness.

But it wasn’t all plain sailing. I was still horribly shy. I still didn’t like the way I looked. And this is really where Hel changed me for the better. She taught me how to walk in high heeled shoes. She taught me how to apply eye-liner and which lipstick to choose (Heather Shimmer, Rimmel, obviously.)  She taught me what clothes flattered me, and that I should enjoy my slim body because someday I would mourn its disappearance (Hi pregnancy!)

But most importantly she taught me how to fake confidence.  She taught me that if I walked into a room with my head held high, back straight, and with a knowing, confident look on my face, people would believe that I had something to be confident about. And it works. It really really works. The first time I tried it, was the first night a boy showed me any attention (and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t down to the Heather Shimmer lips and matching scrunchy I was sporting that night). I have since used it in job interviews, first dates, and wedding ceremonies (ok, just the one wedding ceremony). Honestly, try it  (don’t go too far and look bolshy though – that is not a good look.)



Showing some love on yet another field trip.



This all sounds horribly fake and shallow I know. But the really positive thing is that by faking that confidence, I actually gained confidence. It was an upward spiral (don't hear of those very often do you?) The more I faked it, the more positive things happened to me, and thus the more confident I felt. I turned from someone who was genuinely repulsed by herself, and didn’t believe she was worth anything, into someone who values herself, not only in how she looks, but in Who. She. Is.  

The impact that that has had on my life, to steal the cheesy but oh-so-relevant line, is priceless.

Cheers Hel.