So, Saturday night turned out to be a major test for my confidence and I’m happy to say that I passed with flying colours…I think…

Normally, a trip away for an event sees me playing the ‘corporate wife’ alongside my husband, and for the most part, I play it charmingly well.  There was that one time though, when I drank way too much at a Christmas party and yelled out “Who do I have to root to get a drink around here?!” in front of a very important business associate.  All was fine though, as he proceeded to break down into a sobbing mess, opening up about his many tragic marital problems and psycho wife, so my white trash drunk girl moment just puffed away into thin air, like a fart on a speed boat.  Nice.  Back to Saturday night though, and it was Husbo who was my pretty handbag, as I led the way into the Fox In Heels cocktail party, hosted by the ever amazing Andrea Michelle of Fox In Flats.

Wandering into a 70 strong room full of women (Husbo was 1 of 3 men), I breathed a sigh of relief when I started to see a few familiar faces.  Fortunately many of the ladies have a strong selfie game on Instagram and were easily recognisable.  I wasn’t, as it turns out, so I spent much of the night introducing myself as ‘Kate’ first, then following up the blank stares with ‘loveface’…bingo.  It felt like a stage name, so I offered up a little ta-da and some pageant moves for a lucky few.  Andrea did recognise me though, and her very genuine and warm welcoming embrace, made me feel instantly at ease and my palms stopped sweating – though I’m not sure if that was anxiety or Sydney’s hair frizzing humidity.  It was a very sticky night.

My close friends will think I’m lying when I say this, but I can get cripplingly shy, so this type of event was one giant leap out of my comfort zone.  The fact that I introduced myself to anyone looking vaguely familiar, or who was in the ladies toilets at the same time as me, was a massive deal.  I may not have met everyone I’d hoped to, but I was pleased with my effort and wasn’t hiding away in the corner.  Perhaps a round of shots would have got me those extra introductions (see previous post for anecdote to support this, re making friends with everyone whilst shit faced – like really shit faced).

I’m not sure how things would have gone down, or if I’d have actually even made it in there, if I didn’t have my burly man bag with me.  All the wanky romance quotes say ‘be with someone who brings out the best in you’ and I have to admit that’s exactly what the big fella does for me, so I was relieved to have him along as social support.  He has been the champion of my big ideas and dreams – unless of course they are completely shithouse, and then he’s been my constructive dissuader – since we met nearly ten years ago.  He can be annoyingly wise sometimes, despite being five years my junior (can I get a high five?!) and he loves to throw me in the deep end – mostly because he believes in my abilities, but occasionally it’s just to have a laugh at my expense.

One such deep end moment reared its anxiety inducing head 12 months ago, when along with my sister, Husbo head cheerleadered the hell out of my blog idea, and lit the firecracker that got my arse a-writing.  Yep, this little ethical beauty blog turned one on Saturday night, another reason to feel confident and celebrate.  I’ve bloody well stuck to something and still have the burning desire and motivation to keep it going and growing.  That’s a huge deal for me and further improves a level of confidence that has waned and weakened over the years, particularly since becoming a mother.  The loss of identity and self worth beyond your immediate responsibilities and care, can bring a mother f*cker down.  So expressing my inner adult-woman-of-the-world through writing and story telling, has been a priceless and confidence boosting experience.

So where am I heading with this warm and fuzzy conversation?  Mother flippin’ body confidence y’all.  Yep, that ol’ chestnut, but before you sign off and sigh with your ‘here she goes again’s, I just want to tell you about my legs and how I put some stuff on them to make them look good in short shorts.  Not a rant, I promise, just a frivolous tanning review.  I’m revisiting that glowing gem of the fake tanning world, Bondi Sands, and a couple of their products which helped me get my pins out and proud on Saturday night.  Also, it just so happens that my previous review for the brand is by far my most popular post since the blog’s inception, attracting nearly three times as many views as the next favourite – the one about my boobs!  Tans before Cans.  Cheers Bondi Sands!

So as the last post informed you, I wore a very short little black playsuit to Foxy’s party, and with my legs all prepped with Puretopia, I had to get them a nice skin evening shade of brown, to feel comfortable prancing about in public.  Bondi Sands Self Tanning Foam is the only fake tan I now trust for my legs.  I can use other ones up top, in fact I prefer to do my face with Eco Tan Invisible Tan, but Bondi Sands is the only one that gives me perfect coverage every time.  Having said that though, I buggered my application up a bit this time, by not adhering to my own sound advice and leaving it on for way too long.  I stepped up from the light/medium to the dark foam a little while ago without freaking out, and I usually apply it first thing in the morning and wash it off at lunchtime.  But not on Friday, no sir.  I didn’t get the opportunity to wash it off until the evening, and instead of sporting a very believable sunkissed bronze, I teetered on the slightly fanta side of fake.  I also messed up my feet by not buffing over them with my Bondi Sands tanning mitt.  What a dick.

Feeling a bit self conscious and annoyed with myself, my spirits were quickly lifted by Husbo, as he ogled my darker than usual pins, with his approving yet pervy stare.  While he’s all about the support and confidence building, he’s also a picky and judgmental pain in the arse.  If my bum looked big in something, he would not hesitate to tell me, with brutal f*cking honesty.  So when I get the nod of approval, I know I’m looking alright.  ‘Phew’ I thought, as I slowly lowered the belt sander, ‘I don’t look like an Oompa Loompa after all’.

The tan gave my legs quite the transformation and they were looking pretty short shorts ready, but I needed them to be ‘meeting my latest girl crush’ perfect, so I took it that little bit further.  The Bondi Sands Summer Bronze Instant Tan is quite frankly, photoshop in a can.  If you have veins, bruises or any other blemishes that stop you from baring your legs, or any limb for that matter, get a can of this wonder product.  It provides adjustable coverage in a semi matte finish, that gives the perfecting illusion of a pair of sheer stockings.  The bronze coloured mist dries immediately, so you aren’t left having to stand for the entire night for fear of leaving your mark on the furniture and it washes off easily in the shower.  Erring on the side of subtlety, I chose the light/medium shade which gave me the perfect level of pretend tan.  There is zero orange in it, so you needn’t be scared, just don’t be too heavy handed, or you’ll look like you have fibreglass mannequin legs.

I just lightly sprayed it onto my tanning mitt – the Bondi Sands one is perfect for this – I have tried Le Tan and J Bronze, but they both left brown and black fluff on my skin, which is not ideal unless you are growing your leg hair back for some reason?  Anyway, just a gentle swipe and massage over moisturised skin is all you need to cover up the stuff that makes you feel a bit shit, or to even out any patchiness left from your tan – I also missed parts of my knees like an idiot.  Thankfully the instant tan remedied all of it and I stepped out into the night filled with leggy confidence.  My legs were hailing down taxis like a Sex and the City cliche, and one lovely lady even asked me if I used to be a personal trainer on The Biggest Loser.  It was a big night for my little pins.

Kind Beauty Points : Bondi Sands is cruelty free.  You can buy the brand from Priceline through Shopnate, and help out your favourite charity.