The rainy weather…

The title of this was going to be “fashion advice for rainy weather” but I had to take the fashion advice part out because I don’t really feel qualified. I don’t think I have successfully discovered for myself practical (yet fashionable) ways to deal with this weather however I’ll still let you know what I have learnt (or should have learnt) thus far.

Over the last couple of weeks Cape Town was hit with a cold front and with the sea winds came the rains and the damp and grey atmosphere set in. Usually this is my perfect habitat but when you have lectures far away from each other on a campus that is too big to be able to have complete walks undercover one tends to lose ones sense of humour with the ever growing wet.

I love how the stairs frame me.

Also can we just note that a) this weather is perfect for hot drinks, cuddles and a good book but b) this thought makes studying in the downpour all the more depressing?

I’ve learnt a few fashion lessons thus far.

Lesson number 1: Always have some form of hood because Capetonian rain hair is apparently not my look. Plus wet hair makes me feel like a wet dog and I end up Frrrreezing.

Lesson number 2: Make sure shoes have some water abilities. I learnt this the hard way after having to dry my Canvas hiking boots in my window for three days after they got waterlogged in the rain. Hence I am now living in my old Gumboots – best purchase I ever made

Lesson number 3: Wearing dark colours DOES NOT PROTECT YOU FROM THE RAIN. This is a lesson that I am battling to learn. My brain seems to think that if I dress in dark and dull colours (matching the weather’s mood) it will somehow be helpful… Um earth to Jemma Logic, just wear the damn bright scarf and be happy I promise the clouds don’t care. (But regardless you can see my tendency towards black on black is still going strong).

Lesson number 4: Get windscreen wipers for your glasses (and when you find them get me a pair too) I am so tired of the randomly spaced spurts of water preventing me from seeing. I do not want to take them off and hide them in pocket like drugs. I want to wear my glasses. I am not ashamed. STOP DESCRIMINATING AGAINST THE FOUR-EYED RAIN!

Lesson number 5: Don’t wear jeans with holes when your knees are cold, you get cold.(clearly I haven’t learnt this but despite the stupidity of it I love the jeans too much to stop wearing them).

Lesson number 6: Do, as I did, and buy (or steal from your mother) polo-necks in every colour you can. Those things have magic powers when it comes to the winter cold and I am disappointed in past Jemma for not getting into them sooner.

Lesson number 7: Warm feet, Warm ears and Warm fingers make for a happy person so get yourself some awesome socks, a rocking beanie and make sure you have pockets to shove your hands into (because gloves seem to be too much of an impractical nuisance in my opinion)

Lesson number 8: If coat/jacket/sweater opportunities arise. Take it and run because that stuff is expensive yet the most important items in your ‘surviving winter kit’. This jacket for example was the result of perks-of-being-a-student. Mr Price came to campus to promote their charity (and themselves) and for those people (me me me) who involved themselves got to pick a free (FREE) denim thing. I chose this black denim jacket. We were then allowed to make it our own by ironing on small badges. I chose an Instagram hashtag and a piece of pizza (I’m a twenty first century teenager so these choices

should be self-explanatory). The sad part is I managed to pull them off with my satchel during the day at varsity once and didn’t notice so they fell as one of the lost-UCT-student items on campus. I am sorry mini pizza and hashtag it wasn’t intentional I promise.

I really like that back pack (also that’s where you would have seen my badges)

Lesson number 9: When in doubt –Layer. Layers love you and want to be your best friend. Just accept that love as it isn’t going to hurt you.

Lesson number 10: Yes people don’t really care as much in winter about what you are wearing. They are cold and grumpy and when your jacket doesn’t match your shoes they don’t care. But if you love fashion continue to love fashion despite this. I know I dress for me and no one else. And occasionally the sweatpants and hoody vibe hits and I have to try ignore it. (No offense intended the look is not bad and I am happy for you if you wear it but it really isn’t me). I always try dress up for my exams. Why? Because if I am happy (dressing nicely and consciously makes me happy) I always feel better about what I am writing.

I hope wherever you are it is warm and wish me luck for next week. The sun has reappeared in Cape Town just in time for me to go back home to even colder Johannesburg.

x J

Books are for Boys – Creative Writing

When I was at school I participated (for many years) in a club called Writer’s Circle. It was an after-school activity which involved a few girls who were interested in writing. I did this throughout my high school career. I’ve always loved writing but I wasn’t very good at it. Attending these lessons and being surrounded by girls who were equally as enthusiastic as I was helped me grow as a writer. I was able to improve my own skills in a positive environment and was exposed to other styles. When I went to university I had to leave this behind. After 5 years of having to write something new every week, I felt creative-writing withdrawal so a friend and I decided to gate-crash the current circle while I was in Jo’burg. We wanted to really feel a part of it and so even went as far as to write a piece on the theme they had been given for homework.

I was busy and distracted and so left the writing to a rushed 15 minutes just before the lesson but I was still pleased with the outcome and simply excited to be writing creatively.

The week’s challenge had been to write a work from the perspective of a child, aged 5 to 13, and the topic was ‘A lesson I will never forget’.

The piece I wrote was called ‘Books are for Boys’ and here it is:

Daddy teaches me lots of things. Always when I am with him I must learn. He has this room in the house. It is big and round and the walls are made of books. I am not allowed in this room without daddy. Me and Amarah call it the secret room because it holds all the worlds secrets. Daddy is so smart, he knows everything.

Every night me and Amarah and daddy have learning time. Daddy told me I must know all that is in the world if it is ever to be mine. It is his job to teach me. Daddy gets home in the evening, eats what mama has made and then rings a special bell and yells “Tahil,” and we must come. I am older so he addresses me. I sit on his lap and Amarah sits at his feet.

 The other kids get stories before bed but not us. We learn about a different thing everyday.

Well we used to.

We don’t anymore. Amarah isn’t allowed in now. Daddy doesn’t teach her anymore because he is angry.

Amarah went in to the secret room without daddy. Amarah loves books. She can’t read them herself but she always sits and holds them and pretends to. Daddy has this old book. It is as heavy as an elephant and is as old as the prophet.

Amarah has always wanted to read it but daddy said no so she went in without him. When he found out he was very angry. He shouted so loud like a giant. I was scared so I covered my ears and hid.

Now Amarah has a scar on her face like mama’s.

Amarah doesn’t learn from the books anymore. Amarah doesn’t like books anymore.

And I now know books are for boys and not girls.

This is a very rushed and roughed piece and by no means my best work but I enjoyed writing it so much that I had to post it. I believe that sexism is very much alive and I wanted to somehow show this because it is currently an issue at the fore front of my mind. I also wanted to show how easy it is to manipulate and change a child’s bias.

I mean no offence by this work and it is purely fictional but I was just very excited to write it and wanted to share some of my more creative work with you because I don’t think you get to see that often.

x J