By Martha Gilheaney
I am broke, but it’s not a real broke, just a moving of money away from the high street and into savings kind of broke. My mother never gives up hope that one day I’ll be doing this to buy a house, a car, or even in my case driving lessons. But at 34 and true to my millennial nature, I just feel too young so instead I am saving for a holiday to Japan!
Such saving requires a lot of resolve, especially over the weekends living in the city centre. Walking is a fine, fun, free activity that my boyfriend and I have decided to embrace. Last Saturday we ate a stack of pancakes to fuel up, packed the camera, enough money to treat ourselves to two coffees and took to the streets.
I wore a cute dress and block heels for this aimless adventure. Naturally I would have been more physically comfortable in something soft and flat, but wouldn’t I always?
When people talk about being comfortable in their clothes I wonder if they are referring to physical comfort or mental comfort? Or maybe it’s a bit of both?
The mental rarely registers with me. I am as at home in a tracksuit as I am in a gown and everything in between. I don’t mind standing out, it usually brings nice nods, although I remember this girl, who clearly wasn’t comfortable with my comfort.
She used to say “Martha, I don’t know how you have time to put those outfits together.” With a stoney stare I replied “It takes as much time to put on something brilliant as it does something bland!”
But physical comfort, or its lack of, can be a little harder to contend. I mean I could wear runners, boyfriend jeans, soft sweaters and water proof jackets with hoods every day and I would definitely be more physically comfortable, but mentally I’d wither and withdraw. Fashion in all its wonderful varieties just means too much to me to let that happen.
I know that comfort is important, and for some it is a priority. Maybe for me, if I ever truly grow up and settle down, it will be too. I just really hope it won’t.
For now, I am happy to wander the streets getting blisters on the backs of my heels while I make Dublin discoveries like the most oxymoronic peaceful park beside a prison and a trendy hipster hangout lined with antique shops.
Dublin is a wonderful city to be broke and blistered in!