Bourgeoisie Punk

"You can't be an anarchist:  you own a house."

I'm not sure when it happened.  I was a punk.  I was a musician.  I wouldn't get a proper job.  I wore chunky Doc Martens and strange clothes.  I shaved my head.  I didn't care if my flat was messy.

"I'm a champagne anarchist."  

At some point, my husband and I decided to have kids and when I was pregnant, the ceiling in the room with all my music gear leaked.  The landlords never fixed the ceiling and we moved as soon as our lease was up.  The new place was charming and had the most amazing views.

This was my view for 10 years.

I read somewhere that the architect was fairly successful, but a big drunk.  Our house was in a wee village right by the sea and we stayed there for 10 years.  At some point during those 10 years, a friend of mine suggested I read Apartment Therapy:  The Eight Step Home Cure* and I stopped being messy.  My crappy vacuum cleaner broke and I bought a Miele.  I grew out my hair.  I started enjoying the great outdoors.

Scotland really is fantastic.  Not pictured:  midges.

Then my husband got a job in the big city.  We don't have a car, so the commute was too much.  We found a cheap flat and put in a deposit, but the landlord bailed because we have too many kids.  That's when we decided to buy.  (Eep!)  This was a huge thing for me because I never wanted to be a homeowner:  I didn't want to be tied down!  What if I had to flee the country?  Besides, I never liked anywhere I lived enough to want to stay.  ...Except, I really love Scotland, it turns out, and suddenly homeownership didn't seem so bad.

So many things to like about living in Scotland.

We looked at a ton of places, including one which was messy, a former rental, and a huge fixer-upper.  As soon as I walked in, I knew it was the one.  So we bought our first place!

I don't know when my life got all bougified, but these days I make mood boards on Pinterest, I buy flowers, I take a Pilates class, and I have a favourite sparkling mineral water (Gerolsteiner, but I can't find it in any shops, so I just get Tesco Value Brand for 17p).  Even though I still wear chunky Doc Martens and strange clothes, even though I still feel like a punk, still consider myself a freethinker, and still tell people to stick it to the man, I have somehow become bourgeoisie.

Here I am, the Champagne Anarchist.

*  Apartment Therapy:  The Eight Step Home Cure is my favourite of the clean-your-ass-up lifestyle books.  Kon Mari has the best folding techniques and is great for decluttering (unless, like me, a whole lotta things spark joy), but Apartment Therapy encourages long-term lifestyle habits.