Why red lipstick still counts as self-care

Remember when working from home sounded like a dream? Coffee in bed, no commute, stretchy trousers all day. That fantasy lasted approximately three days. By week two of lockdown, I was pacing the living room like a caged animal, clutching my lukewarm cuppa and wondering if I’d ever hear office banter again.

For someone who thrives on movement, the gym, Zumba, even the clank of weights, sitting at a laptop for twelve hours felt like slow-motion doom. My motivation slid somewhere between the biscuit tin and the sofa. But I’m not one to wallow. So I decided to create my own sanity plan, a midlife survival recipe for keeping body and brain in decent working order during the world’s longest “staycation.”

Morning stretch

I start the day with a stretch that resembles yoga, but with more groaning. My desk chair has become an ergonomic nemesis, so I counteract it with a few warrior poses, a dodgy downward dog and some shoulder rolls. Nothing fancy, just enough to remind my body that it’s still functional.

Family time

With little Cyrus home full-time, workouts have been replaced by “mum-as-a-human-bouncy-castle” sessions. We’ve had epic pillow fights, spontaneous living room dance-offs, and long, giggly reading sessions before bed. Our current favourite is Uh Oh Milo! by Kate Wogan, a cheeky little book that uses mischievous mythical creatures to teach manners.

“It’s the sort of book that lets me feel like a semi-successful parent, while Cyrus cackles at goblins spilling juice. Win-win.”

Dressing up to stay sane

Here’s an odd discovery: dressing up helps me feel human. While most of the world embraced hoodies, I went the other way – skirts, lipstick, earrings, the lot. My latest obsession is a polka-dot midi from British boutique The English Beagle. It’s 95% cotton, 5% elastane and 100% mood-lifter.

Working from home in a skirt might sound daft, but there’s something psychologically satisfying about looking like you mean business.

Small luxuries, big difference

Let’s talk pampering. I still paint my nails in Rimmel Double Decker Red and swipe on MAC’s Night to Remember. And yes, I wear magnetic lashes on Zoom. Call it midlife rebellion or sheer vanity, but when I catch my reflection in the black mirror of my laptop, I’d rather see “woman trying her best” than “woman who’s given up.”

“A bit of effort reminds me that I’m still me, the version who used to have lunch meetings and deadlines, not just dishwashing marathons.”

Mindfulness for mortals

When you’re locked indoors with your nearest and dearest, patience can fray faster than your favourite leggings. H and I have weathered many storms, but nothing tests a marriage quite like arguing about whose turn it is to disinfect the post.

So we’ve learned to breathe, literally. A few minutes in the garden, a deep inhale, and perspective returns. Sometimes I read a few pages of Super-Women by Janina Scarlet, which reframes anxiety and trauma with humour and empathy. It’s less “toxic positivity” and more “realistic optimism,” which suits me fine.

The great outdoors (sort of)

Here’s the truth: I’m not a runner. I had my son at forty, and let’s just say my pelvic floor hasn’t been the same since. So while others were posting about their 5Ks, I stuck to the back garden, mug of tea in hand, pretending the fence was the horizon.

“It’s grounding feeling the breeze on your face, even if your big adventure is hanging the washing out.”

Laughter therapy

If endorphins won’t come from exercise, they’ll come from laughter. We binged Mr Bean and Friday Night Dinner back-to-back until tears rolled down our cheeks.

Three things a day

Every night, I write down three things I’m grateful for. Yesterday’s list: learning SEO, discovering that Cyrus still likes bedtime stories, and the sheer luxury of drinking coffee while the world slowed down.

Final thought

Lockdown taught me that staying “active and positive” isn’t about perfect routines or Peloton memberships. It’s about showing up for yourself. We don’t need to come out of crisis thinner, faster or more productive. We just need to come out with our sense of humour intact and our mojo, however dented, still flickering.