To socialize or talk informally preferably over a drink. Word forms: 3rd person singular present tense hobnobs, present participle hobnobbing, past tense, past participle hobnobbed.
But honestly. Hobnob is a safe space for women who prefer iced coffee over a perfectly curated wardrobe. It’s is a daycare center for women who are intrigued by trends, but also don’t care. It is an open bar for those who swear on vintage Chanel and whose pension funds hang in their closets.
Last fall I got to think about how my confidence has played such a huge part in my style. Obviously, you think to yourself reading that. But I have never really thought about it before, since styling myself in clothes always comes so naturally to me. You know, I have never really had to think about if I would dare to wear a big orange faux fur the size of a minivan or if a pair of really (I mean really really) small glasses look flattering on my face or not, beacuse if I like something, I simply put it on. I like standing out. I like expressing myself.
But then I remembered this one time in Paris during fashion week last fall. I and Fanny were going to this super cool show in this incredible venue, a castle to be exact. We were in a bit of a hurry (as per usual) because the show we went to before this one was running late. This is always how it is during fashion week though, so we were not too worried about it. This was the last show we were doing before catching our flight back home to Stockholm, so we wanted to really make the most out of the last few hours in the fashion capital by wearing our Chanel skirt suits. This was in October, so we were not really prepared for no-stocking weather but Paris was serving May temperatures. Great we thought, bare legs it is. I was just about to close the door to our hotel room when I looked down at my legs and saw them: a crew of tiny but very aggressive black hair on my legs.
I cannot go to the show with legs of a yeti!!!
I shouted to Fanny
Why not? It’s not like people will look at your legs. It’s a fashion show. They’ll be looking at the clothes.
And of course. This makes sense. It’s not like the whole fashion industry would be judging me because of the amount of angry black hair on my legs. But still, it made me unsure of myself without me knowing why, because I never cared before.
And so I forced Fanny to run with me between a few Pharmacie’s to get a razor for me to get rid of my uninvited friends with.
But I said to myself, then and there. I will never let hairy legs get in the way of me wearing what the fudge I want again. How can a little bit of hair be so powerful? I had to ask my friends.
So, no matter how you like your body, shaved or fuzzy make sure you do it for you.
Thank you Estrid for sponsoring this post and for inventing your vegan (and cute) razors. And for making them a subscription service, no strings attached. And yes, do it here.
Or, click here to go full browsing mode over at Estrid’s website. Either way, enjoy!
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *