One night in 2015 maybe, I was walking with a friend towards a club. I couldn't remember how the conversation went there, but I declared, "I look my best now."
As I write this I think, No. I look my best
now;
And think of perfection. My every day has been a deliberate (though not always successful) step towards that. In 2014 I got
my own space. When friends would invite themselves in, I'd quip, I want it to be Instagrammable first, give me time. I want my home to reflect who I am, therefore I want it to be perfect.
Although I know there's no such thing and if I ever reached it, What else?
Then I came across this Robert Herrick poem published in
Love poems, a collection of poetry read on BBC Radio 4's
Poetry please:
Delight in disorderRobert Herrick
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness.
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthralls the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and …