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coonstuff · 7 years

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Jude, The Big Mistake, and an incredible mattress company.

Everybody knows Jude is our problem boy. He’s an emotional eater, his natural separation anxiety never diminished, he’s got a jealous streak a mile wide, etc. He’s our boy, and we love him hopelessly, but he’s a guy with some issues. What you might not know is that I, his mother, have a fairly rare form of Tourette’s syndrome that is causing arthritis in my hands and neck. Because of this, when the time came to get a new mattress, I did a LOT of research before settling on the bed offered by Tuft and Needle, a little company running out of Arizona. With great trepidation I maxxed out my credit card and got the mattress, and wonder of wonders, it is a fantastic bed, I sleep beautifully on it, and do not wake up with the powerful neck, wrist and head aches I experienced on traditional mattresses. In short - I love this bed. When they found out the bed was coming a few days later than expected, they notified me they’d taken 50$ off the price (here’s the actual bed I picked) .

Jude loved the bed, I loved the bed, life rolled along. Until one day, in a fit of hubris, I thought it would be alright to go to the corner store for some juice. Jude was asleep, it’s only two blocks. Surely, it’ll be fine. No need to disturb our young man. Right? Wrong. So very, very wrong. In those few short minutes, Jude woke up, found himself alone, and became overwrought. Perhaps he thought I was hiding from him. Is mum somewhere in these sheets? Certainly! He proceeded to gouge foot long rips into first the flat sheet, then the fitted. And what’s this? A spongy surface. Aha! She’s definitely hiding in here. What follows is too horrible to describe. Moments later I returned home to find my perfect, fancy mattress with softball sized holes in it, and an extremely relieved Jude, covered in bits of fluff and detritus. I confess a few tears were shed before I gathered up the bits of mattress I could, stuffed them into Jude’s craters, and sewed the cover over the holes. When I laid on the bed, the pits were evident. The mattress isn’t one that can be flipped, so I made the best of it, sleeping at the edges, trying to avoid the divots. It was sad, and it was all my fault.

After several months of struggling to sleep around the holes, I had an idea - perhaps Tuft&Needle could sell me a repair kit! If they have the material that goes into the mattress, I can stuff the holes more tightly, and try that! I send out a quick email. I’m including our conversation for your edification.

Hello!

My mattress has been damaged by a naughty raccoon. Do you have any sort of 'filler' or patch available for sale, or any suggestions for a method I might use to repair a baseball-size hole in the mattress?

Thank you for the mattress, and any advice! ♡

On May 18, 2017 5:58 PM, "Katie N @ Tuft & Needle" <

[email protected]

> wrote:

Hi Ana, Katie here from the Tut & Needle customer experience team. I have to say, I have never come across an email quite like this one! So many questions... How exactly did a raccoon get to the mattress? Is this something that happens often? What did you do with the raccoon? The list goes on. While these questions might go unanswered, I am happy to help! :) At this time we don't offer any type of repair kit. However, I might have an even better solution. When you have a chance, could you please send in some photos of your mattress with the sheets off? Ideally, we would be able to see the damaged area. Additionally, if you can include photos of the tag that are on your mattress that would be excellent. While I am pretty sure raccoon attacks are not covered under our warranty, we may be able to make a one-time exception. I've attached a few example photos, so you know what we are looking for. I very much look forward to hearing from you! Warm Regards,

So, I get that response, and I’m tentatively excited. There’s no way this little company is going to just replace the mattress because I made a judgement error. Right? I reply with the requested photos and a brief explanation:

Ana <@gmail.com> May 18 to support

Here's the brain trust. The one on the right, Jude, was in the midst of his terrible twos when I made the mistake of leaving him alone for 15 minutes. This was SO insulting to him, SO offensive, he decided to rip a 20 inch hole in the flat sheet, then the fitted sheet, then proceeded to dig a beautifully round hole in the mattress. After a protracted period of self pity, I gathered up the tiny bits of mattress, stuffed them into the hole, and sewed it up. Over the last few months, the tiny bits have settled considerably, leaving an unseemly divot that aggravates me afresh with Jude on a nightly basis. Here is the evidence of his misspent youth. Any suggestions or solutions will be deeply appreciated, and I apologize for any inconvenience. Jude does not apologize. Cause he ain't sorry.

Not even a day later, this incredible reply arrived:

On Fri, May 19, 2017 at 11:19 AM, Katie N @ Tuft & Needle <

[email protected]

> wrote:

Hi Ana, Thank you for sending in these photos. Seeing raccoon pics and reading your hilarious email has been an awesome start to my day! My team and I agree that we hate the idea of your going to sleep frustrated! We want you sleeping well and waking up better. So, we'd like to offer you a one-time replacement. As I said in my previous email, our warranty doesn't include unhappy raccoon attacks. However, in your case, we want to offer an exception. I have ordered a Cal King Mattress that is on its way to your address. If that information has changed, please let me know. I also wanted to let you know that at the end of 2015, we adjusted our mattress formula to add some extra comfort. You may notice a slight difference in how your new mattress feels. Our new T&N adaptive foam provides greater pressure relief, support, and breathability than the previous version. The top layer of the mattress is called T&N Adaptive Foam and contains gel and graphite, which helps pull heat away from your body. Overall you should find the new mattress sleeps cooler and is even more comfortable! How attractive it is to raccoons, I can't say. ;) Please let us know if there is anything else we can do to help. If you are looking for some extra mattress protection, you may like this cover. We hope you and Jude are sleeping well for many years to come. Warmest Regards,

Four days later? A brand new bed is on my doorstep. I’m still in shock. And yes, it is more breathable and amazing than the old one. It’s the best surface I’ve ever slept on, and I’ve written all this so that anyone and everyone can know that Tuft&Needle is an amazing company that does amazing things. Oh, and one more thing...

A week after the bed arrived, I received a package in the mail. Inside the beautiful box were two bandanas, a rope chew toy, a tin of healthy ‘coon treats, and a handwritten note that reads:

“Hey There!

We received photos of your sweet furry friends! We’re sorry to hear about your mattress. Here are some treats and ‘nice digs’ to help keep Jude from digging even more! Thanks for your support.”

Talk about above and beyond. I confess a few more tears were shed over this situation, but this time it was joy. I couldn’t possibly thank them enough for their kindness. This little article is really all I can do. If you’ve read this far, please consider sharing this with your friends and family. Tuft&Needle provides a fantastic product and the best customer service I’ve ever experienced.

#tuft&needle #raccoons

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biofunmy · 5 years

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What Rappers Wore to the Genius Barbecue Concert in Brooklyn

Genius, the media company that is the online repository of annotated song lyrics, held a barbecue concert at its Brooklyn headquarters earlier this fall, featuring some of the buzziest names in hip-hop.

While Doja Cat performed, other acts, including Lil Tjay and Young Baby Tate, hung out at the loftlike offices near the Gowanus Canal, mingling with the company’s young founders. Here’s what they wore.

Doja Cat

Age: 24

Occupation: rapper and music producer

Your outfit has a lot of checks and yellow.

This is a Fashion Nova piece. I thought, for Genius, why not? Because it’s yellow and black.

The earrings are not small.

I wish I wore the bigger ones. These are Tanaya Henry. She does beautiful jeweled pieces like this, and bodysuits out of chain mail.

What does it say around your neck?

It says “Nasty.”

And are you?

I kind of am.

Ilan Zechory

Age: 35

Occupation: co-founder and president, Genius

You’re wandering around in flip-flops and socks.

I just found slides a couple years ago. I always want to wear them the most, and I just rolled in.

This looks like a very comfy flannel shirt.

Iro. It’s really soft.

Tell me about your pants.

These are joggers from a discontinued brand called Jack Threads. I knew the guy who owned it, and he sent me a gift certificate and I had to buy something. And I bought these pants and proceeded to wear them six million times. I make fun of these pants, and I get made fun of for wearing these pants. I’m wearing them. I’m not proud of it.

Is this what you wear to work?

I have a variety of things I wear: T-shirt and jeans, Nikes and Reeboks.

Jacques Morel

Age: 30

Occupation: senior correspondent for “Genius News”

You’re an on-air star.

I’m a reporter, just like you.

You seem a lot cooler than me. You literally have a razor blade hanging from your ear.

Fair. Shout out to Johnny Nelson Jewelry. He makes black-inspired jewelry: Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela.

What’s black-inspired about the razor blade?

This is just fire.

You’re wearing a Carly Rae Jepsen T-shirt.

I love Carly Rae Jepsen. I saw her show back in July — that’s where I got this — and it felt like group catharsis.

What’s on your feet.

These are Rick Owens Ramones. Rap carries fashion trends like a bee carries pollen. A lot of these things weren’t thought of with us in mind. To see what artists like Pyer Moss are doing, reclaiming the space for black faces and black bodies … me wearing stuff like this makes me feel like, Yeah, I’m here: I’m a young black man and I wear Rick Owens.

Tom Lehman

Age: 35

Occupation: co-founder and chief executive, Genius

The colorful sweater and your big hair — you look like a delightful clown.

The hair is a bit of an issue. I’ve been told it’s a distraction. These jeans are just very classic Levi’s. On top I’m wearing a recycled cashmere sweater from a company, Tricot, I started with my friend Rémi. It means “sweater” in French.

What does the tongue on your sneakers say?

It says, “Have a Nike day.”

Why did you pick them?

I love Air Maxes. I like to say, “The only thing missing in an Air Max is a good insert.” In this particular case I was really taken with the color scheme.

Tell me about your large camera.

This is a Pentax 6-by-7 medium-format camera. I have it for my hipster cred. It has this nice wood grain handle, and it’s totally manual.

If your company goes bankrupt, it’s stuff like this that they’re going to point to.

Personal expense.

Young Baby Tate

Age: 23

Occupation: rapper and music producer

Oh my, is that a stuffed-animal backpack?

Yes it is. It’s like a rainbow cheetah.

Is that your spirit animal?

Honestly, yes. This is me. I just love anything rainbow, and this reminded me of Lisa Frank. I love her. Sometimes I call myself Lisa Frank Lauryn Hill.

Those earrings are something else.

This was actually custom made for me by a woman in New York, J. Papa.

Tell me about your boots.

I love a little bobo boot. I don’t like to wear heels when I perform because I’d probably fall and break my neck.

Would you call your top a bustier?

A bustier or a corset. I’m not sure what the difference is. I found this at a little store in Little Five Points in Atlanta. It’s sexy but it’s still cute.

Tia Hill

Age: 23

Occupation: producer and correspondent on “Genius News”

Nice jump pants.

I got them from Asos or something. I love a good baggy pant, tight top combo.

What is it about that silhouette?

I love Aaliyah.

I was going to say the Fresh Prince.

I love Fresh Prince. But I like being comfortable at work and, aah, relaxed from the waist down. And then I have a ton of crop tops and tube tops. And then jewelry to accentuate my clavicle area.

Very specific. And hoops.

I always wear hoops. I feel like I always have big hair, up in an Afro puff or an Afro. Big hoop, big hair.

Everybody here has such styling shoes.

These Adidas are not too chunky, like the Filas everyone has. And I’ve never seen anyone with this colorway.

Lil Tjay

Age: 18

Occupation: rapper

Let’s start with your chain.

My chain comes from Izzy the jeweler. I’m happy with his work. I love my chain. Two-toned Cuban-linked. White gold. Yellow gold. Prone set. With nice diamonds.

It has a dollar sign with a “B” in the middle.

SB. That’s my team.

What kind of jeans do you like?

The kind I have on now are called Kasubi. I like Amiri jeans. Off-White — I like them too.

And you’ve got the big Dolce & Gabbana sneakers.

It’s just for today. I’m not even saying I’m like a big fan. Not one of my favorites.

What’s one of your favorites?

I love Jordans. It’s not a step-out fashion designer shoe, but that’s my comfortable shoe.

Briana Mendez

Age: 25

Occupation: sales assistant, Genius

Tell me about your furry hat.

I got it at Urban Outfitters. I threw it on and I was like, “Damn, I look cute.”

Your hoops are ovular.

I got these at a beauty supply store in Chinatown. I was drawn to the shape. It’s like a little raindrop.

You mentioned that you are proud of your shirt.

It’s by a designer, Barragán, and he is a Mexican designer based in Brooklyn. I’m so proud to rep for my community, always. The chain comes with the shirt.

Destiny Rogers just stopped her entire entourage to compliment your shoes.

These are retro Jordans, limited-edition women’s. Women are taking up more space in street wear. They’re fuzzy. I don’t think this is real fur.

Something tells me it’s not.

And I wouldn’t want to wear an animal. I reminds me of a cute little panda.

Sahred From Source link Fashion and Style

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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tinytoesandfurrypaws · 7 years

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Welcome to November, and before you say it…I know, I know, a gift list for Christmas BEFORE Thanksgiving has even happened??? I get it, I say the same thing when Christmas decor is up in stores before we carve the turkey, but hold up a second, I have some logic! Some of these items are custom ordered, which means you HAVE to order them mid November in order to get them in time for the gift giving season. SO, take a look, or save this for later, whatever, but this is my reviewed list of my favorite items for the 2017 holiday season. Some of these products are shown in holiday swag, but never fear, they have awesome patterns and decor for your home, loved one, and pets for the full year around if holiday garb isn’t your thing! Take a look!

#1- Custom dog bowl stations- Raised dog bowls with a storage space built-in, I mean seriously? Of course I needed one of these! I picked the 3 bowl option because I like all of the food and water bowls in one area. This way the center bowl is water, and I feed on each side. I do love slow down options, so we have some new goodie gobblers, to put inside our bowls to keep Vino, the vacuum cleaner, from sucking it down too fast! This is from Two Moose Design’s shop on etsy, and there are a TON of options to choose from, this is the Medium in Ebony. Keep in mind this is a custom item, and large to ship, so you will want to order by November 20th, and don’t forget to use our 10% off coupon code TINYTOES at checkout from Nov 1-30th!

#2- Custom dog collars Everyone needs a new dog collar every now and then, and if you are anything like me, I order a new one…every month. Karma visits the hospital, and I like her to sport holiday swag for the kiddos! I found these super cute custom engraved collars at Mimi Green. They are based out of New Mexico, so make sure you reference the site for delivery dates if you want to get some new collars by the holiday! I LOVE that these collars give you everything you need to keep your dog well tagged, without the jingle of actual tags! Make sure to take advantage of the discount TINYTOES10 at check out, and stop by their Instagram @shopmimigreenandwally and Facebook @shopmimigreen

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#3- Qalo rings So these are my favorite personal item this year, because they are so versatile! I have been sporting one for a bit now, and I wear it most days in and out, and I tend to switch to my wedding ring when I’m heading off for a date night, or function with the hubs! I have a large black diamond in my ring, and it gets in the way ALL the time! I never wear it to the gym, for obvious reasons, but also when I was working with the dogs, hiking, running, cleaning, you know…living the mom life in general because it was so hard to wear gloves or keep it clean! Keep an eye out for their Black Friday Sale, so you can snag a few of their rings for any outgoing and busy guy, or gal out there. Definitely a Dog trainer MUST!

#4- Red Dingo Dog Tags- These are by far my favorite dog tags! I love that they are thick, covered in a clear enamel, AND they guarantee the integrity of the engraving as long as the tags are intact. In the many years of sporting these on my dogs, I have never had to return one for being unable to read the information on the back, and we have tags that have been used for close to 8 years now! They come in small, medium, and large, and have a huge selection of adorable designs! I’ve been known to use these on my car key, diaper bags, lunch boxes, back packs, and gym bags! The possibilities are endless!

#5- T-shirt– Okay, so who doesn’t love a new tee? Well I personally love one just a tad bit more if it has a dog on it! Inkopious makes these adorable T-shirts, and you can find different breeds through their site so you can sport your best pal! Personally I’ve already ordered a pit bull one, but you know…I’m pretty partial!

#6- Ruffwear– Okay, so this one is more of a brand favorite than anything! I order from these guys all year long, and I am never disappointed by the quality of what they send me! We have had the same singletrack backpacks for years, and they are still in awesome shape! Karma has been sporting the same webmaster harness for 6 years when she’s working, and it’s still in really great (all be it hairy) condition. Really I buy new things because they let them out in new colors (Shhh…don’t tell Jeff…). So check out these coats for the season, if you have a winter sport, dog loving friend, this is the place to go! You can order online here, or if you’re local to Salt Lace City, you can find them at The Dogs Meow!

#7- Chew Toys– With big dogs of my own, and boarding dogs of all sizes and chewing abilities, I am always looking for chew items that can withhold them for a reasonable amount of time. Benebones have been a fave here for the past few months! I am a big fan of how long they withstand strong chewers, and they would DEFINITELY make a great stocking stuffer!!! Okay, so again you can find these here (yep, click this link), or if you’re a local, you can find them at The Dogs Meow!

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#8- Mug– If you have ever been by my house, you’d know I have a serious thing for mugs…especially dog related mugs! These would be amazing stuffed with treats or hot chocolate, and so easy to do as mass gift items for friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues! I am loving the 4 options they have right now, AND the fact that they are available with Prime 2-day shipping is just an awesome bonus!

#9- Door Mats– DOGNATTi makes my favorite door mat! I am hoping my hubby takes a hint and orders one for the side door too, (I’m talking to you Jeff…) because this sums my house up VERY well! I should add here, that DOGNATTi has a LOT of really adorable items in their shop! From cups and coasters to leash holders and signs, so go check it out! Use the coupon code FURRYPAWS10 for 10% off $50.00 or more until December 1st, which is going to be the last day for guaranteed Christmas Day delivery.

#10- Tea infuser– This puppy tea infuser is ADORABLE! I am a crazy tea drinker, and if you know anyone else that is, that also fancies dogs, this is the ideal stocking stuffer, or small token! I love that they are metal, because they seem to have a longer expectancy than my silicone ones. So grab a couple this season and make the dog loving tea drinker in your life happy!

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#11- Bandanas– The California Chi outdid themselves this year getting bandanas ready for the holiday season! These are so cute, and versatile…by that I mean, yes they are cute, but they also grab Vino’s drool! So that’s a win-win in my book! Check out April’s clothing and swag magic, and stuff the doggie stockings in your life! She takes custom orders, so you KNOW you can get something for everyone!

#12- Jewlery– Who doesn’t love some new bling? I am in love with all of the detail in the work from Gracefully made Jewelry on Etsy. I love the look of personalized tags with my kids names, with an adorable added heart and paw charm, and I can see these being a great memory item! Since they are personalized items, make sure you check with the shop when you order to see what the cut off dates are!

#13- Dog Treats– I’m always looking for new treats, and these Lucky Turkey Nuggets are among our faves here in the Oliver house! They are created specifically for Pet Wants, who also has a nice selection of other treats as well. These dried treats are going to make AWESOME stocking stuffers! So grab a few bags, and spoil your furry friend this holiday season! Oh, and did I mention…they deliver???!!!

#14 Dog Treat Container– I personally hate the look of resealed open bags of treats on my kitchen counter, so I have a super cute treat container to keep it all in line. This is my favorite jar on my counter right now, and I love to fill it with Old Mother Hubbard biscuits and keep them around for quick bribery.

#15- Blanket– I know I can’t pass up a new fluffy throw, especially if it’s cold outside! I am stocking up on these paw print blankets this year, and I can’t wait to sit by my tree, under the classic white lights, sipping out of my new mug with my super cute puppy steeper and dig into whatever new psych book I have on my list! So bundle up with your fuzzy pal, and enjoy your holiday season!

This post was sponsored with product review by some of the companies featured. I only offer items that I personally love in this list, and I feel great about doing so!

2017 Top 15 Gift Guide for the Pet Lover in your live! Welcome to November, and before you say it...I know, I know, a gift list for Christmas BEFORE Thanksgiving has even happened???

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3one3 · 7 years

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The Sequel - 864

Five Minutes

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Stop cutting him off, babe.”

“I’m not!”

“He stops pushing the thing every time your boat nearly smashes into his. Here. Keep going, Munchkin. You can still beat him while he’s busy showing off.”

“Whose team are you on? You’re supposed to be officiating.”

“I am, but you have an unfair advantage so I have to moderate a handicap.”

“What advantage!”

“Not being two years old.”

Friday morning was for boat racing. André bought remote controlled boats to play with in the pool, for Lukas, he said. Christina knew the toys were just as much for him. He already tried to use one to deliver a bottled beer to her on the big pillow float when he first got them earlier in the summer. They came with very basic controllers, and Lukas just about understood that if he held down a button then the boat moved. He was the blue boat, and Dad raced the red one. Dad was much better at steering, so the red boat tended to win. Christina was trying to help even out the record. She sat on the side of the pool with her legs in the water and her son on her lap and tried to help him steer. André sat Indian-style beside them and steered his boat in circles around the other one, and all over the rest of the pool. Lukas had enough trouble navigating without the distraction of bumper-boats. He understood that Daddy was causing the problem.

“Daddy noooooo,” he shouted in frustration before vindictively hurtling the controller into the water. André used his long reach to retrieve it for him, and laughed at his reaction. He leaned over to kiss his forehead as he handed the waterproof device back, and then tried to fit his head between mother and child so that he could kiss Christina too. His lips were seeking a bikini-clad breast though, not a forehead, and he was badly off target.

“Stop it,” the rider ordered, making it difficult for him. “Start the race over and play fair.” She put her hands over Lukas’ littler ones to assist him in returning the blue boat to their end of the pool, to the imaginary starting line.

“Don’t you have horses to ride or something?”

“No. I told you I’m not going to work until you do.”

“I actually should start getting ready for that soon,” the player frowned after checking the time on his phone on the concrete between them. He didn’t want the nice morning with his family to come to an end yet. They had blueberry pancakes and eggs for breakfast on the patio, with green juice and abundant sunshine. Then the chef read articles from Time and The New Yorker aloud while everyone let the food settle. Then they played Banana Phone for a while, and then Tag, and then Monkey in the Middle with the dogs and a tennis ball. “Last race,” André announced as soon as Christina managed to get Lukas’ boat lined up next to his. Like clockwork, Espen greeted everyone from the patio as soon as her boss shouted “ready, set, go”, thus distracting the little boy piloting the blue speedboat and immediately putting him at a disadvantage. Mom tried to help. Espen’s arrival also signaled that it really was time to move on from playtime to work time for the adults. Christina really wasn’t ready to switch from bikini to breeches. In order to ensure that her horses got maximum turnout time, she had to do Kyle and Stefanie’s lessons earlier in the day. They had their own schedules to keep to, and she couldn’t text them and push their training back just so that she could spend more time playing in the sun with Lukas. She and André went upstairs together after the race to get ready. Both were inclined to drag their feet about it.

“I really like that bathing suit on you,” the BVB man commented in the doorway of his girl’s dressing room while she rummaged through one of her satin-black drawers. He liked the squishing effect of the olive green scoopneck bralette-style top on her chest, which was very secure in there. The ability for such little fabric to accomplish so much truly blew his mind.

“Go pack your backpack,” she muttered dismissively. How do I not have any clean crewneck barn t-shirts? I swear there was a heather gray one here yesterday. Espeeeeeeeeen. Why you hide my laundry?

“I can’t decide what entertainment to bring.”

“Are you sure you’re not just reluctant to get your bag and go to training and the hotel and the match because you think you’re either not going to play or not going to contribute if you do play?”

“Yes, that.”

“Come on, babe,” Christina replied consolingly as she gently shut the drawer without finding a shirt. She padded over to the tall, blonde and handsome guy holding up the doorframe and put her hands on his waist. “Who even are you? You always look forward to the match. You get what you put in. If you go into the weekend thinking nothing but negative garbage, that’s all you’ll have at the end of the weekend. You’re better than a lame ass crisis of confidence a couple of games into the season.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being the good cop or the bad cop right now,” André chuckled. But I like your boobs from up here.

“I’m neither cop. You don’t need law enforcement. You can make yourself do the right thing.”

“You’re sexy when you’re indignant.” He held his girl’s head in his arms the way he held Lukas’ whole body when he was brand new, and messed around with the loose hair barely secured in the elastic around her bun.

“I’m not indignant. I’m just not here for any sorry bullshit.”

“Definitely the bad cop. Why are you getting so heated about this?” The discontent midfielder furrowed his brows in mock bewilderment, but really he enjoyed Christina’s flare of temper over his self-pitying posture.

“I’m not!”

“Clearly.”

“I need to chaaaaange. And you need to get your stuff and change too.”

André released her head and pushed his lips together for a kiss. She had to stand on her toes to reach, but that was such a well-rehearsed habit that it came as second nature. It happened quickly, and then she was back on the hunt for a t-shirt fitted and tidy enough to ride in but not too nice to sacrifice to barn dirt, horse slobber, and sweat. The other athlete meant to do the same- to turn around and resume the chores necessary to get out the door and on with his day- remained planted just inside the entrance to her private domain.

That was like a chamber of feminine mysteries to him. It was never declared off limits to him, and he was only ever encouraged to keep out or get out when he was getting in the way. Her dressing room had different “moods”, so to speak. André thought the furniture- those smooth, satin black cabinets, drawers, and shelves- was very “Cool Girl”, and the textured baroque wallpaper, heavy chrome mirror frames, the complicated crystal chandelier, the furry carpet under her bench, and the photos from her magazine shoots, were very “Sexy Girl”. Sometimes she listened to Placebo in there and put together leather leggings, chunky boots, and lux sweaters. Sometimes she listened to The Weeknd and tried on minute bodycon dresses with pointy pumps. Sometimes she pulled on yesterday’s breeches while dancing to Latin artists he didn’t even know. That was her place to be whatever she wanted, and her outfits and her playlist always told the truth about what that was. André felt some inherent self-restraint against infringing on her space for being her unvarnished self or for putting on the varnish of whichever self she intended to project, and not just for her benefit.

It was actually for himself. He didn’t want to know any secrets that might stain or reveal some of her mystique. A girl had to have mystique to keep him hooked, and Christina had plenty, in all sorts of avenues. Her mind was an impossible place, for example. He didn’t want to explore every nook and cranny and take away the experience when its hidden places were revealed naturally, often to his entertainment or wonderment. Similarly, the footballer had no desire to give up the unknowns about what she got up to in that little private space full of her personal, non-shared possessions, decorated exclusively by and for her. It was nice to watch her get dressed to go out with him. It was kind of a turn on to watch her primp and make herself beautiful or sexy. But he didn’t want to see the whole process. He didn’t want to see her choose what to wear, and what bag to carry, and so on. There had to be a little mystery. Using what she did in there to figure out her mood was like cheating, or taking a shortcut, and that had to be saved for emergencies. So he largely stayed out of that room. It was much better to let her reveal her things on her own, or present them for him to figure out.

But sometimes other things trumped that unwritten rule. Sometimes he was chronically bored, or restless, and needed to bother her in there for entertainment. And sometimes he just felt like being near her and the desire for that was so intense that he couldn’t leave her general vicinity. Friday was like that. His wife was largely right in that he wasn’t looking forward to final training and a night with the team ahead of a match he didn’t anticipate going well for him. What she missed was that he didn’t want to put his overnight bag together and change for Brackel because he didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to hang out more, and play with their son more, and talk, and be close, and maybe more than that. He didn’t notice how good she looked in that olivey bikini until she was about to take it off. Besides the pushing up and smooshing of her breasts, the cut of the bottom emphasized how high and tight her butt could look. The color complemented her long compounded summer tan. Then she got all tough talk and pointed gaze on him and he really wanted to remain in her orbit.

“What are you looking for?” André questioned after kind of tiptoeing in behind Christina and seating himself on the white bench. She was picking through another drawer.

“A shirt. Why are you still here?”

“You have like a hundred shirts.”

“Do you need something? You’re lingering.” The equestrian turned around with a faded red Hampton Classic souvenir tee that was older than her marriage. Her expression was blank and though it was engaged with her husband’s, she was simultaneously opening a deep drawer in her small island to select a sports bra.

“Come here.”

“You’re not gonna cry, are you? It can’t be that bad. You said training was great yesterday!”

“Ha ha, very funny. Just come here.” André tugged on her wrist the way Lukas did when he wanted or needed something, and pulled the reluctant girl between his knees. Once she was corralled there, he let go of her dainty wrist and gently took a palm-sized hold of each of her butt cheeks. Gently steadily morphed into possessive. “I’m having one of those moments where all I want and all I can think about is touching you. I wish that I could stay home this afternoon and make love to you over and over.” Gentleness remained in his demeanor, however. He spoke softly and longingly and most importantly, authentically. Christina had no room to tease him. She just slid her three middle fingers into the front of his hair and combed it back, searching for the right thing to say. I believe the proactive part of that statement, she thought about what he’d said. But I also believe the negative- the beginning- the stay home part- is actually the real thing. It’s not that he desperately wants to be together. He desperately wants to not go do football, and fondling and fucking me all day is a great way to feel better about that. It’s really hard to feel dread or reluctance about the thing that’s supposed to be your passion. No one knows that better than I do. I wonder if he’d feel better about it if he could have the comforting, good, satisfying experience first, and then go to training feeling better, and then maybe perform better, and thus improve the whole cycle of consequences. Christina freed her fingers and pried André’s left hand off her behind so that she could read the time on his watch.

“If you take the Range Rover instead of either of your cars and then don’t have to stop on the way to get gas, do you have enough time to make me late for work?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make you late.”

“I’m the trainer. I’m not late. Kyle will just be early. Touch me.”

“I can’t, baby,” the German groaned with his forehead and nose pressed up against her tummy. “I won’t want to go after.”

“Then go now and work hard and get tired so you’re ready for bed early and you can call me and we’ll hang out, okay?”

“That’s not what I want.” He looked up and rested his chin on her instead while he shook his head.

“What do you want, boyfriend?”

“My Prinzessin. I want her.” I want to be under her, and between her legs, and on top of her, and inside her. Inside all of her. Where I can see her love for me. Where I don’t have to guess about it, or assume. I want her. I want her to make me happy inside. I want her to be just mine for like 5 fucking minutes. Not Mausi’s, not Heiner’s, not Germany’s, not Dirk’s, and most especially not Juan’s. Why can’t she just be my beautiful, sexy Prinzessin again for a little while? Just mine. Show me for a little that I’m still the most important to her like she is to me. I want the feeling I get when we make love and I’m on top of her and holding her head, she’s holding my arms and we’re kissing the whole time and then she opens her eyes to look at me like I just took the heart right out of her chest and put it inside mine to keep it safe and warm for her. Her eyes turn that frozen winter color. There’s a perfect black circle around the outside and then the weird blue-gray. I don’t know why they only get that color when we’re in bed. They’re like a mood ring. Someone should make mood contacts so more people can know someone whose eyes change color all day. She says it only depends on what color her top is. I don’t believe it. Her eyes aren’t that color every time she’s naked. She’s more or less naked right now and they’re just regular sky blue. I hate that they’re looking at me with pity right now, André concluded while the object of all his thoughts tried to figure out what to do or say for him.

“How much trouble would you be in if you were a little late?”

“None. Actual training doesn’t start right away. We have time to eat and to work on our own first.”

“So stay with me.” Christina used her weight to push him back enough to make room for her on his lap. She settled over his thighs and reached under his arms to hang on his shoulders. “Work out with me. And then go kill it in training,” she whispered, those much considered blues on his mouth.

“Not now,” he sighed, unswayed. “As I said, I wouldn’t want to go after that. And I don’t like it when you pretend for me. I want enough time to make you want me too.”

“I d-“ Her mouth opened to lodge a protest against the assumption that she was just playing along and mustering some participation-level desire because she felt sorry for his state, but her argument was stifled by two of his fingers arriving there to shush her.

“It’s not the same. Change your clothes, pretty girl. Go do your lessons.” André patted the top of her butt and looked away because the only thing worse than the pity reflected in her features was seeing hurt there, and there was no chance she wouldn’t at least flinch at his rejection. She always did, even if she wasn’t interested in being together in the first place.

“Sure?”

“Mhm.”

With that affirmation, the rider vacated his lap and walked away shaking her hair out from its bun, all the way into the bathroom via the door at the back. There was no telling whether she stalked away without so much as another glance, never mind a “goodbye” or even an “okay”, because she was bitter about her offer for her body going untaken or if she was fed up with his sulking about football and leaving. There was no time to figure it out either. André got up and went to his own closet to get ready. They didn’t interact again until they both wanted to kiss Lukas goodbye. Dad apologized because the last thing he needed was to have Mom be angry. It wouldn’t have made any sense. What he wanted most was to stay home with her. She wasn’t allowed to be upset with him for not wanting to have a quickie with her when the reason was that it would just make it harder for him to leave after. Christina said she wasn’t upset. She told him to go have fun at training.

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Not so haute: six writers on their biggest fashion mistakes

Kenya Hunt ‘My version of day-to-night dressing was a night-time look worn all day’

Despite working at a fashion magazine, I’ve made a few sartorial mistakes. I comfort myself with the sentiment of an Instagram edict I saw: “If you’ve never looked a little dumb, you’re not having fun.”

I’d count the moment I met my husband as an off day, so it pains me no end that the clothes I wore have become a part of our marital lore. In his mind, the outfit is key to a story that must be retold, again and again: “She wore a shiny shirt, tight jeans, big, gold hoop earrings, tall boots and a giant white furry jacket. And I said, ‘I need to know this woman.’”

This visual loudness – the metallics, the big proportions, the shaggy texture – was my everyday look back in my late 20s, when I was living and working in New York. I dressed this way to please no one other than myself. I relished being able finally to buy and wear the labels I read about in magazines, but could never find in my suburban childhood home in Virginia.

My version of day-to-night dressing was basically a night-time look worn all day – ready for whatever fun might happen later. I’d think nothing of a morning commute in glittery Miu Miu heels or a gold Chloé sequin skirt. (To be fair, it was the era of high heels, flashy coats and skirts that were either very big and long, or very short.) No matter what the prevailing trend, I’ve always had a soft spot for the razzle. For further proof, see this old image of me in Milan, in bright colour and print, layered on top of more colour and print.

Now, my wardrobe stands on a foundation of grey, navy and black, mostly because it suits my lifestyle and the London weather. I limit the flamboyance to my accessories (a bright shoe, big earring, bold handbag) or show it through shape, such as an enormous puffer jacket. It’s just that now I choose pragmatic black rather than hot pink.

There’s a real joy that comes with loud dressing, because it requires a certain kind of go-to-hell spirit. I’ve come to indulge this in a more restrained way, but I don’t regret the mistakes. If I did, I’d have divorced my husband a long time ago, for telling that story so very, very often.

Ruth Lewy: ‘To think that this was my coolest look’

Ruth Lewy, aged 20, with Dizzee Rascal.

It was May 2006 and I was coming to the end of my first year of university. I had just received my first proper student journalism commission: an interview with Dizzee Rascal. I borrowed a Dictaphone and hastily scrawled down three pages of uninventive questions (“What is the best thing you’ve ever got for free?”).

Now the important bit: my look. I loved Dizzee; I knew his two albums back to front and had mastered all the words to Fix Up, Look Sharp. What was I going to wear?

To think, looking back, that this was my very best outfit. My coolest look. Not one floral print top but two, a T-shirt layered over a shirt. Not one necklace, but two. (Made with beads collected while InterRailing around Europe. I know.) My curly hair was slicked back with Brylcreem. Off I went, looking like Laura Ashley’s long-lost daughter.

He was courteous, holding eye contact and answering all my inane questions with grace. (The best thing he ever got for free? A lifetime’s supply of trainers.) I stood up and shook his hand, and he invited me to his afterparty. The next student journalist sat down and went straight in with a question about homophobic lyrics and issues of representation in pop music, and I thought, “Ohhhh, that’s what journalism is.”

The evening took a strange turn. My friends and I crowded into a bar on the high street, where Dizzee had a roped-off section at the back. It didn’t take him long to zone in on my gorgeous friend L, persuading her to leave with him. We were agog.

Twenty minutes later, she was back, laughing her head off at the way he had clumsily propositioned her. She chose us over him.

What do I see when I look at this picture? I feel embarrassed at my choices. But I’m also glad I spent my 20s dressing like a weirdo: it demonstrates a self-confidence that I don’t think I appreciated at the time. These days, you could still file most of my clothes under “eclectic”, but I’m much more careful, uninventive even. Now I tend to wear only one necklace at a time.

My interview never appeared in the end; the other journalist broke the embargo (she went on to write for the Daily Mail: go figure). I was left with only this blurry picture, a reminder of my youthful enthusiasm for floral prints, and an uncanny impression of Dizzee Rascal’s best chat-up line.

Ruth Lewy is assistant editor of Guardian Weekend.

Nosheen Iqbal: ‘Everyone else on the beach was 89% naked’

Nosheen Iqbal in Tuscany, aged 21.

I was a skittish 21-year-old in the mid noughties and I had, against my will, ended up on a Tuscan beach. It was the height of summer, but I was wearing thick black tights, thicker black skirt, black scarf and witchy pumps . Everyone else was dressed in 89% naked and the entire beach was rammed. I’d been sent on a work trip with four other journalists who were, as far as I was concerned, super-old (fortysomething) and, I hoped, probably willing to buy my stubborn refusal to strip as some cool youth thing. (They didn’t.) I made an attempt to style it out by looking casually moody, staring out to sea behind sunglasses, pretending not to notice my shoes sinking in the sand, legs looking like inky black stumps.

Why don’t you take off your tights?

No.

What about if…

No.

A couple of key things: the seaside was not on my itinerary and I hadn’t packed for it. I didn’t (and don’t) own swimwear or a bikini, and I didn’t (and don’t) know how to swim.

Being Muslim is barely an excuse to look as daft as I did; there are chic ways to be modest by the sea – childhood memories of Karachi’s Clifton beach were proof, where lawn cotton tunic and trousers were everyone’s friend. But being Muslim, plus an average level of body dysmorphia, was my “bikini body ready” get-out card. I knew there had to be more comfortable ways to be in public than permanently sucking my stomach in wearing what is, essentially, waterproof underwear. But 100-denier hosiery was definitely not the answer.

The general advice to give a shy 21-year-old should always be, “It’s not as bad as you think”, to allay their disproportionate embarrassment. Except, in this case, the cringe levels are fully warranted; I haven’t been to a hot, sunny beach since.

Nosheen Iqbal is a commissioning editor for G2.

Morwenna Ferrier: ‘I can’t remember why I decided to cut off my hair’

Morwenna Ferrier in Aldeburgh in her early 20s.

Other outfits have been more challenging. The mother-of-pearl bustier I wore to my graduation, say. Or, recently, the T-shirt printed with Valerie Solanas’s Scum manifesto I wore to meet a friend’s baby. But the outfit I am wearing here, worn on a walk along Aldeburgh beach in Suffolk, is the one I most regret.

It started a few months earlier when, in my early 20s, I decided to cut off my hair. I can’t remember why. I imagine I fancied a change and, in fairness, I liked it. But then, I looked like a boy in a dress. I reacted by phasing out dresses and instead wearing drainpipes, striped T-shirts and headscarves. None of this was good. In the photo, I’m wearing tight cropped trousers under the dress.

I had spent my late teens in dresses, grungy or flowery, with self-cut hems. It was a more innocent time, when I didn’t really care what I wore. But the haircut triggered an anxiety.

What is it I regret? Back then it was the haircut; now, it’s that I ever worried about looking like a boy. I clearly hadn’t been paying attention in those Judith Butler seminars; maybe I was still too attached to the binary. As my hair grew out, I started to care for the first time about how I looked. At 24, late in life, I became self-conscious.

Pam Lucas: ‘I looked like a turkey at Christmas’

Pam Lucas at a family party, aged 39.

As a single parent in the 80s, I was dirt poor. I didn’t have the opportunity to make fashion faux pas because I didn’t have any money. We shopped in jumble sales, and we had fun.

My family was invited to a party to celebrate my aunt and uncle’s golden wedding anniversary. I didn’t know them that well, but my mum wanted me to impress them by looking “modern”. In the 80s, that meant puffy sleeves and big shoulders. My mother came with me to buy the outfit from BHS , so I had to comply. I was 39 at the time.

It was a beautiful colour – between purple and lilac – but I didn’t like the synthetic fabric. It was watermarked all over and had a flared, taffeta skirt and a little jacket with a peplum. I looked like a turkey at Christmas, but it was such a fab party, I soon forgot how uncomfortable I felt.

In a way the outfit is a testament to my relationship with my mother. I was a grownup, with a child of my own, but she was still trying to keep hold of the mum bit of herself.

Tshepo Mokoena: ‘I settled on a vague hippy child look’

Tshepo Mokoena at 19.

It would be nice if we could start over. To spare me, and others my age, a fair bit of niggling shame, by wiping all early photos from our Facebook accounts. Anyone who set up a profile between 2004 and 2009 now lugs around the digital baggage of horrible pictures of misspent youth and terrible outfits.

Case in point: this delight of a photo. I was 19, killing time between the second and third years of uni in Brighton. In a few weeks, my housemate and I would set off on an impulsive charity volunteering trip to Kerala because – and I still cringe – we’d watched Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited.

Until my early 20s, my aesthetic consisted of not knowing when to edit. At 18, I would “layer” at least three beaded necklaces, two chunky bracelets, about 17 bangles and seven rings, for no good reason.

I attended secondary school in Harare, Zimbabwe, largely insulated from fashion, more concerned with my whizzing hormones than the latest velour tracksuit. I settled on a vague “hippy child” look at 15 and filled my wardrobe with earthy prints, flared denim and jewellery picked up in local markets. By 19, I looked like a substitute art teacher.

If you’re old enough to have only private, analogue photography from your youth, or young enough to have crafted a near-fictional version of yourself online, you’re spared the permanent reminder of your mistakes: 1,287 grim images owned by Mark Zuckerberg. I implore other twentysomethings to join me in calling for a digital purge. It’s time.

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