What's in a Name?

Changing your name is a lengthy process, full of millions of letters and in the case of passports and driving licences, lots of money.

I have been thinking for a while now of changing my name.  Well, when I say changing it, what I actually mean is reverting back to the name on my birth certificate.  Given the time, documentation and money involved, as well as the emotional ramifications, this decision has taken a while to reach.

I was eight when my dad died and just over a year later my mum remarried.  Although I was happy to see her resettled, and he was and is the best stepfather I could have hoped for, from then onwards I felt disjointed.

Maybe it was the little girl’s way of thinking, but I remember at that time feeling that I wasn’t a proper member of a family anymore.  When the holiday tickets used to arrive each year with the different names on it felt strange and wrong.  Like I was a leftover from an old relationship. 

When I reached 11 after talking about how I felt it was decided that I would change my name to the new surname.  Given my age I didn’t need to bother with change of name deeds and I didn’t want to go down the adoption route, so I simply started using the new surname.

Years down the line and now I’m 33.  Whilst I understand my reasoning for wanting to change my surname when a child, I now miss my old surname.  I miss the connection it gave me to my dad and I’ve found, that although I call myself by my stepfather’s name, I still think of myself in terms of my dad’s name.

I don’t need the sense of belonging like I did when I was a child.  Taking back my former name is in a sense reconnecting with my younger self and that is something I want.  So much of my life went awry after my dad died and now I think I have finally dealt with all that, I want a new start with the old me.

So, after I have a long talk with my step father, whom I love a lot and want him to understand, I will be going back.  

Hello Vicky Cooper.  I’ve missed you, a lot.

No to the Finger

Everyone who knows me and knows of my love of Formula One will be well aware of my dislike of Sebastian Vettel.

This weekend has given me another reason to dislike him.  In my opinion, he is proving to be a bad ambassador for the sport. 

For the second time this season Sebastian Vettel has publically insulted a fellow driver, in this case Lewis Hamilton calling him "stupid".  The first occasion was of course the much publicised "cucumber" insult to Narain Karthikeyan.

He is the reigning world champion and as such is also a representative for the sport.  Maybe a little more PR training, together with a course in bad manners may be in order?

I understand that Lewis has now commented on Vettel calling into question his maturity and I have to say I agree.  Throwing your toys out of the pram every time something doesn't go your way is not the right attitude for a double World Champion.

My Legal High

 Someone asked me today on Twitter what it was about shoes that girls like so much.  Maybe because my current profile picture is this:

I replied saying that this was a question that could not be answered in 140 characters other than saying that shoes are pretty and they make us happy. But why do they make us happy?

When you go out and buy clothes, you buy them because they looked good when you tried them in the shop. If you are like me, then at some point in the future after you have bought the item, sometimes immediately upon returning home, you will look at it/try it on and wonder why in hell you ever bought it.

Suddenly the garment looked good on you in the shop, is all wrong. The dress that you thought looked elegant has turned into a hooker dress. The top that looked great for a night out with the girls turns into something your grandmother would wear. The jeans that are a perfect fit until you get them home and suddenly you look like you are pregnant.

This doesn't happen with shoes. They will always look the same.

The shoes in the picture above are shoes that I have envisaged and wanted since my love of shoes began. Bright red Mary Janes with ribbons, and with heels high enough but not so high that you can't walk. I've had those shoes in my head forever.

Since finally finding and putting my own stamp on them, I have worn them on multiple occasions and I still get the same big goofy smile on my face that I did the first time of wearing.

Shoes will always look the same as they did in the shop. No girl will ever turn to you and say "Does my foot look big in this?" Shoes always fit. I put a pair of shoes on that I love and my mood improves. I look down and see them or catch their reflection in a window and I have a smile on my face.

The "fun" shoes

The “I feel sexy when I wear them” shoes 

The “today I want to goddamn sparkle” shoes 

Shoes - are they the best legal high there is?  I think so.  

They make smile, and that’s what counts.