Quality over quantity. Or, How I plan to become more like Grace Kelly

Quality over quantity. Or, How I plan to become more like Grace Kelly

Self-respect manifests itself in multiple ways – not least in the choices we make on a daily basis. Make sure the decisions you make for yourself are considerate, attentive and confident, and Grace Kelly-like poise and graciousness is well within reach.

As I sit down to write this month’s dose of my personal musings, I have a glass of full-bodied red wine, ripe blue cheese and fresh bread at my side, and Rear Window is playing on the television in the background. I mention these things not to complete the stereotype of life in France, nor to incite alcoholism and gluttony in readers through the power of suggestion. No, I mention them because all three exemplify the theme of this month’s ponderings: the concept of quality over quantity.

Never to settle

Quality over quantity is the resolution I made as I turned 33 recently. I decided that too often I settle. I settle in certain areas in my life in a way that I wouldn’t dream of doing in others. Before I met the Beloved, I rarely had long-term boyfriends as the minute I realised this wasn’t The One, I called things off; I aimed for the best university I could; I apply for the jobs I really want, even when I know 500 others candidates are also on the case. I consider myself someone who doesn’t settle. And yet… I’ll go and buy a pair of not-quite-right shoes that aren’t really the brown I wanted but hey ho. And then I’ll obviously have to buy another pair later on in the year because I have five outfits for which I have no suitable shoes. I’ll say yes to a drink after work with people I sort of get along with in a bid to extend my social circle. Then I’ll realise I no longer have a free evening that week to see some of my best friends. I’ll watch random rubbish on TV because there’s nothing else on and I can’t be bothered reading. Then I’ll curse the fact that I don’t have enough reading time and feel out of touch with current affairs.

Well, no more of that for me. And this evening typifies my new quality-over-quantity attitude.

You are what you eat

Firstly, let’s talk about the cheese. I have to admit that since I’ve been in France I have eaten a shocking amount of cheese. It’s just how we round off a meal here. But tonight I’m not just rounding off a meal. The bread and cheese is my meal. Because I didn’t really want anything else. In fact, all I wanted was blue cheese, some bread and glass of red. So that’s exactly what I’m having. I’m not settling for something else because it’s easier, or what I should have; I’m having a reasonable amount of exactly what I fancy. And yes, before you ask, it is indeed doing me good.

One perfect thing

Now, about that wine… When it comes to wine, I’m what the French call “bon public” – easily pleased! I like most wines but this one is truly marvellous. It’s rich, fruity and pretty potent. Quite often (and please don’t judge me) I’ll find one glass of wine easily leads to another and another (especially when drinking with a man who can really hold his liquor), which inevitably leads to exhaustion and a slight hangover. But not tonight. No. Tonight, I’m reining in the instinct to say, “Oh, that’s nice, I think I’ll have a top-up” because I know that I won’t appreciate the second glass as much as the first, and truly enjoying something speaks to the heart of my “quality not quantity” resolution.

What would Grace and Audrey do?

Finally, Rear Window. I love pretty much all Hitchcock films (the exception would have to be Marnie, which I find just too disturbing), and Rear Window is in my top 3. The huit clos-style setting, the charm of Jimmy Stewart, the totally relatable premise of fascination-with-neighbours-turns-sour, but mainly – oh yes – mainly for the exquisite Grace Kelly. Just watching her makes me want to sit up straighter, mind my manners, and generally be a better person. Watching Audrey Hepburn has the same effect on me. They both exude class, gentility, elegance and style. Would Grace buy a cheap, oddly fitting pair of ballet flats then get blisters within minutes? No. Would Audrey stop herself from getting the slightly dearer leather bag in favour of the cheaper imitation one only to buy another a week later because the strap broke already? I think we all know the answer to that one.

Grace and Audrey would rather have one pair of perfect shoes than a cupboard full of second-bests. Grace and Audrey would never try to cram three parties into one evening and end up offending hostesses and being late for all of them; no, they’d politely decline two, attend the most important of the three, bring a nice bottle, and probably send a handwritten thank-you note the next day. Grace and Audrey would buy the right size or have it altered to fit, they’d get the best quality they could afford, they’d make time for close friends and not be in a rush, they’d savour one glass of champagne rather than three glasses of wine they didn’t really want. They would treat every decision as a reflection of how much they respected themselves. As I turn 33, that’s how I plan to live my life too – making respectful choices for myself and asking, on a daily basis: “What would Grace and Audrey do?”

Lighten your load

Lighten your load

January is traditionally a time when we start expecting more from ourselves, imposing diets and exercise regimes on our bodies, beginning new projects and giving up vices. But what if, this year, you chose to lose a different kind of weight?

Happy New Year, readers! A bit late this time in the month but a hearty wish for health and happiness is never de trop. Actually, my first column of 2013 is coming to you late in January on purpose. We’re spoilt for choice in terms of resolutions and self-improvement articles from about mid-December to mid-January every year and, while I’m a big fan of making resolutions and setting goals, I thought I’d opt out this year.

January is a horrible month to make changes in your life, isn’t it? It’s cold out and you’re trying to take up jogging; you’re stomach’s stretched from all the Yuletide excess and you’re trying to eat less; the post-Christmas blues set in and you’re trying to give up your favourite vices. The back-to-school time in September is a much easier time to start any project, in my opinion, but my letters to the UN suggesting we re-think the calendar fall of deaf ears each year, so I guess we’re stuck with January resolutions.

But hey, here’s an idea, what if this year we made a different kind of resolution? Or rather, what if we framed our resolutions differently? Instead of thinking about “making changes” and “giving things up”, how about simply letting go of things that do not serve your wellbeing?

What are you carrying around?

Let’s take the humble handbag as a nice tangible start. Many of us are guilty of filling to capacity. If you had emptied mine out not so long ago, you’d have found at least three pens, a filofax, my phone, a notepad, lip balm, paracetamol, plasters, tissues, an assortment of hair pins, a novel, a comb, two memory sticks, a few business cards, perhaps a journal, an apple, some post-its… you get the idea. It was like I was trying to prepare for every eventuality in life, make sure I had everything I’d need in all circumstances. One day I got so fed up (and my right shoulder got so sore) that I decided to downsize my handbag – and now I only ever leave the house with the things I’ll really need. The rest – I’ll make do! One pen is fine; leave the journal at home (I never stop in a charming café on my way home to write a few lines); put my appointments into my phone diary… I literally lightened my load.

Shake it off

Applied to other areas of life, the benefits of lightening your load are myriad. Why not stop expecting yourself to behave perfectly all the time? What would happen if you took that weight off your shoulders? Or what about not always obliging yourself to answer your phone or reply to texts the minute you get them? What if, every so often, you let yourself off the hook? As well as getting rid of self-imposed expectations, we can all do with letting go of some other, heavier, mental baggage. Like perpetual pessimism; the long-held and unjustified belief that we are not good enough; the conviction that we’re not great at sports; fear of commitment…

Eliminate the negative

Whether it’s by travelling light, or working to shed a few psychological kilos (yep, living in France, I’ve gone full metric), we can all lighten our load a bit, without dropping balls or becoming irresponsible or unreliable. As we enter 2013, why not think about imposing less on yourself rather than more? I’m not saying don’t give up smoking or take up exercise, of course. But do think about framing them in such a way that you’re more aware of the ways in which you are freeing yourself up than the things you are giving up.

The forgotten commandment: Thou Shalt Not Whine

The forgotten commandment: Thou Shalt Not Whine

In the long grey winter months, it’s easy to be negative and hard to act cheery, but just as you are what you eat, so too you feel what you focus on. Choose to change your focus.

You can’t really argue with the Ten Commandments. I mean, as rules for happy and harmonious living go, they’re a pretty solid base: don’t kill; don’t cheat on your spouse; don’t steal; don’t lie. So far, I’m on board. Have a day of rest every week. Yep! Take care of your parents. Absolutely. Without wishing to labour the point, I don’t think many people would take exception to any of the above, whatever their religious leanings. Sadly, however, I have often felt that one commandment was missing.

Don’t get me wrong. Ten is a great figure – it’s even, pleasingly round, fits with our decimal currency, can be nicely spaced out into two five-item lists on a couple of handy stone tablets. I can totally see why Moses would get to the end of dictation, see a nice symmetrical pair of lists, and casually decide to leave commandment Number 11 at the top of the hill, but honestly, I really think he dropped the ball. Our lives would be infinitely more pleasant had he just added one last rule to the list:

Thou shalt not whine

The addition of those four little words to that fateful list would have made such a difference, wouldn’t it? Whining is perhaps one of the least attractive traits in a person, and is certainly one of the most draining. I have an acquaintance – let’s call her Wendy – who, whenever I ask the innocent question, “How are you?” replies with some permutation of, “Oh, I’m so tired. Yep, really shattered – I worked until 10 o’ clock every evening last week. It’s just crazy.” When I first knew Wendy I made the mistake of trying to help her with this apparent problem – suggesting she speak to her boss about her workload, asking whether she was eating properly, that sort of thing. Recently, however, I had an epiphany (I don’t know why I’m on such a religious theme today, I’m on a roll and I’m just going with it). I realised that Wendy isn’t actually asking for help, nor does she need to talk. The bottom line is: Wendy likes whining. And she particularly likes whining about being tired.

You feel what you focus on

I don’t actually know anyone who isn’t tired right now. In the bleak midwinter, it’s dark when you go to work, dark when you leave work. You’re trying to lose the Christmas bulge, keep that resolution to go to the gym, maybe even give up or cut down on something – cigarettes, chocolate, wine… The post-Christmas winter months can feel grim at times, and yes, they’re tiring. But does saying you’re tired all the time help at all? If, every time someone asks me how I’m doing I answer, “Crikey, this rain is getting me down, I just can’t seem to get warm, and I have a splitting headache”, all I can think of by the end of the day is the rain and the cold and the headache and, lo and behold, it’s all actually worse than at the beginning of the day. But if I reply, “I’m great, thanks! Looking forward to a quiet night in, that’s for sure”, miraculously, I can actually convince myself that I do indeed feel full of beans, and that quiet night has become a choice I’m making in order to take care of myself. I find that I feel what I talk about; which means that I don’t also choose to talk about what I feel.

Accentuate the positive

Now, I’m not suggesting we bottle up our feelings or lie, but unless mentioning aches, pains, gripes and groans will actually do some good, why go on about them? Now, whenever I see Wendy, I avoid asking how she is and instead pose very specific, fact-based questions: What did you do this weekend? Did you go jogging like you wanted? It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that not only does Wendy’s whining about being knackered exacerbate her own tiredness, it also exhausts me! If only she could take her focus off the negatives she’s feeling and concentrate on something – anything – positive, that good feeling would be increased instead of the bad. The mind is like a magnifying glass – whatever we choose put under the lens is what our eyes will see enlarged; whatever feeling we choose to talk and think about is what we’ll feel magnified. Luckily, we get to pick what we train our lens on. So, it’s precisely when I’m tired and a bit hungry and maybe a little paranoid that I try hardest to remember to apply the 11th commandment and silently order myself not to whine.