That is the question. Considering the added complications of the need to be cycle-friendly and the fact that I was going straight to work afterwards, I tried to decide on an answer. Last week I went to CH1ChesterBID's Catwalk Show, held in the Westminster Suite of the Grosvenor Hotel. It was a showcase of fashion from high-street brands and university fashion students, showing off many people's hard work. It was stylish. Slick. Sophisticated. Smooth. I on the other hand, scoffed some toast down after a day of working from home, shoved the outfit in question in my bag and raced into town on my bike. I'll be forever grateful to the M&S toilets - perhaps not the classiest changing room, but it was there that I got catwalk ready. Well, I undid my day and a half old plaits and changed from jeans and t-shirt into something a little smarter, at least (a hand-me-down black top from a friend and a maxi skirt that my Mum found on a pound rail, to be precise!). With jeans rolled up in my bag and my battered helmet stowed away in the bike pannier (I couldn't quite bring myself to take it into the hotel), nobody had to know a thing, as I walked through the shining corridors of the Chester Grosvenor. A warm welcome greeted me and I took my seat. As the models strutted, swayed and glided up and down the catwalk, what struck me was how everything had been so carefully put together. Not a strand of hair was out of place. The tops matched the trousers, the bags matched the tops, the shoes matched the bags and any accessories were arranged more seamlessly than strawberries on a pavlova. (I think my wardrobe's more of an eaton mess!) But it wasn't only the outfits that evidenced such creative thought - the music chosen to accompany each collection complemented and oozed it's theme. The show highlighted that fashion is an art. The Chester University Fashion Design graduates and the creative brains behind the high-street brands, whose work we 'ooed' and 'ahhed' at, probably know this better than anybody. For the most of us however, perhaps fashion is a pressure, an abyss or a fast pass to a bank balance of zero! But maybe you've cracked it when you realise that, if you want it to be, fashion can be an art; it's a chance to exercise your imagination, make the most of the spectrum of colour God gave us, and to celebrate that (in my Nanna's words) 'anything goes!'
Because, although within each collection everything fitted a theme, no two collections were the same. The tops, the trousers, the bags, belts and shoes were all different. For the grand finale, the models all did a loop of the catwalk in one long line, between them sporting a range of collections; it was like a sushi bar of style! Thank you CH1ChesterBID for a fun evening and for everyone's hard work.
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Let’s play a game. I know a little something about two of these three: politics, poetry and prayer. Can you guess which is the odd one out? The one about which I am a novice? Here are some clues: I’m a Christian. God has recently humbled and amazed me with what prayer can do. I’m soon to become a university English student. I've studied poetry and (as you may have seen in previous blog posts) enjoy writing my own. Have you guessed yet? Politics. It's a tremendously topical subject, and one which I know embarrassingly little about. Before I reached the voting age, I didn't have much of an inclination to find out more, but now that I have been blessed with my very own drop in the sea of democracy, I have tried to do my homework before Thursday’s election. After all, 'with great power comes great responsibility' and 'every little helps' (to quote two renowned sources of wisdom in the political world - Spider-Man and Tesco!). I love the Psalms found in the Old Testament of the Bible. I find that what they teach us about God and how they can help us personally rest in his presence is incredible. But I also love the Psalms simply as a writer; I marvel at the power of the words, the richness of their meanings, the thoughtfulness of the imagery and metaphors they use and the ferocity of the feelings they convey. It's poetry. Beautiful poetry with cosmic meaning. I would love to be able to write like that. This poem started off as a prayer just written down like a letter, but as I was praying, I went with the flow and ended up with what's below. It is the prayer of a political novice, observing the turmoil and unsettlement that is shaking our world at the moment... Turmoil and unsettlement that have augmented all the more after the devastating news of late, since I originally wrote the poem back in April. It is a prayer of hope, for individuals to use their power to show universal wisdom and compassion in their decisions. I thank you and praise you for you created me. You formed me, breathed being into me, you set me off on this journey of life. You maintain me, sustain me, listen to my fears, my worries and strife. You rejoice in my joy Lord, see through to inside - I know full well that, from you, nothing can I hide. And really why would I wish to, when you are refuge, you’re peace? You’re strength in the good times, and still when good times cease. The birds in the sky, the birds on the ground, You blessed them with a beautiful song, their own sound. They want not for anything, yet see the world at its best; They have perspective and freedom, yet the warmth of a nest. How much more Father God, does your love for us pour? Perspective and freedom, for us you want so much more. The perspective to see the world from sky view, To see the waves and the tides of life’s vast void of blue. Perspective to see the freedom each person should own, To be safe, individual, yet with you, not alone. To see where this freedom’s no more – it’s all gone or it’s fake. Stripped, smashed and stolen, leaving pain in its wake. Where life’s waves have eroded the rocks into spears, Sharp edges and corners, closing space, casting fears. And as the waters keep rolling, often unaware they flow, They are caught, cut and crumbled, by the sharp rocks below. But Lord how much more is our freedom, when we dodge the rocks, look at you, To restore the perspective, bring it back into view. When the world feels sharp, feels closed and unknown, When the tides have gone out, but forgotten how to get home, Help us restore that perspective to each drop pool and sea. With your power, your strength, the sharp rocks, they will flee. Not just flee – they will break, as they’re washed over by what’s true. A wave’s wall of water is hard as diamonds with you. It’s the daggers’ turn to crumble, the guarded pools’ to be free. Let their broken dust build into shells, which sing songs of the sea. Help us to see clearly Lord, let your ocean feel the sun shine on its face. May the waves glisten in unity, ebb in love, flow in grace. If you want to know more about what any bits of this poem mean, please ask me! I can't guarantee that I will quite know myself, but I'll do my best.
If you want to have a read of the Psalms for yourself, take a look at Psalms 23, 100 and 139. They are some of my favourites and are good'uns to start with! Psalm 23 Psalm 100 Psalm 139 The BBC news website is a great place to find out more about the UK general election taking place this Thursday (8th June). |
AuthorMegan Kate Chester Archives
June 2017
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