Yep, that there is a tweet from Courtney Love. About Domestic Sluttery's (tres exciting) exclusive interview with Giséle Scanlon, writer of the Goddess Guide books. It's a good day today.

The busker singing this at Charing X station earlier made my day. Later on in the evening he scared Jane because he was also dressed as a clown.

I don't think I'll ever get sick of London. Knowing that makes me ridiculously happy.

In the last year, I've become more aware about just how much emphasis we put on the value of our belongings. Despite what some people think, Domestic Sluttery isn't about being frivolous. In fact, I believe it's the very opposite. Sure, we feature things that are seemingly of little consequence, things that don't matter to real life. But they do, because they make people happy. The women (and indeed men) who read Domestic Sluttery save to buy certain things because they love them. Everything we feature on the site is something that someone will cherish.

But there are some things that some people just don't get. I wrote a post earlier this year about really fabulous lingerie. Stuff that any woman would be thrilled to wear. Sure, some of it was expensive, but to me, it's worth it. Because sexy lingerie can make you feel like a different person. Hell, even matching underwear can do that. But a lot of women reading just didn't get it. They'd squeee over a £200 pair of shoes, but not a £200 lingerie set. Because it's not on show. Not everyone will see it. Why spend all that money on something that no one will see?

Which got me thinking. When does personal value, take over monetary value? When does something become priceless to you?

One of the most valuable things I own has only been seen by around three people. It's a gold Victorian brooch (circa 1830s if I'm not mistaken) and I snapped it up for a song on eBay. My reckoning is that it's worth a fair few hundred, maybe close on a grand (this might be slightly off the mark, but I trust my rather obsessive research into antique jewellery). I paid £32 for it. I would have paid three times that, had my maximum bid been reached (I was in a full-time job when I bought it four years ago). It's gorgeous. But it's too precious to put it with the rest of my jewellery, so I hide it away. Because it's not for anyone else. I bought it for me. Sometimes I get it out just to have a peek, but then it goes away again safely.

So why buy it? Because I wanted it. For me. And no one else. Partly because I've now got a rather beautiful heirloom, but also, because it's special. It's a really special piece of jewellery and well, I wanted it. Even if no one sees it.

When you look around someone's house, you can usually see what's special to them. It's the stuff on show. The artwork above my bed, the jewellery hanging from the birdcage. The collection of notebooks hidden away on the shelf. The dress I hang on my door rather than in my wardrobe. It's on display for a reason. Because I want you too see it. But then there's the other stuff that we hide away (does everyone else use a shoe box? Is that just me?) Sometimes the stuff the no one sees is the most priceless. The things that have no monetary value. but they mean something to us. Even if you couldn't (or wouldn't want to) explain why to anyone else. I have a snooker ball and some dried flowers in mine. The flowers are almost 15 years old. They're from the south of France. And the one and only time I've ever been given flowers by someone I was in love with. I treasure them as much as my antique jewellery.

Our material possessions are much more about personal expression then they are about buying things. I don't love 'stuff'. I love good design. Good design gives me butterflies. It gets me excited. That's why I buy stuff that I love. Because it expresses who I am. And yes, shoes are a great way to do that. So is vintage jewellery. To me, anyway.

We're judged on what we wear, and the things we buy. But I don't think that's always fair. Because you have no right to question someone's personal values. And that's what taste is a lot of the time. I don't mean value in a moral context, I mean the literal personal value that you would put on something. That tatty old bag you carry around with you might be worth nothing to anyone else, but to you, it's everything. It's memories, emotions, feelings and all of that is important. How do you put a price on that? Only you can.

My point is, something doesn't need to be seen by someone to be worth something. And sometimes you'll never understand the worth of something that belongs to someone else. Because it's not your worth. Personal value is just that. It's not for other people to judge.

Flickr image from banspy's photostream.

Earlier this week, my friend Gary tweeted to say that his girlfriend Sarah (whom I've never met) was stuck in Machu Picchu after a landslide. At the time, I didn't think much of it, because you don't do you? His girlfriend is a seasoned traveller, people get stranded abroad all the time. But then I realised how grave things actually were. There had been landslides in Peru, and later on an earthquake. Things were really serious. And knowing that Gary could only sit there and wait for news was horrible. Especially when the town that Sarah was in lost gas and electricity.

At the start of the week, it sounded like an adventure. Sure, she was out there, but spirits were high, despite the situation. Everyone wanted to get home, but it sounded like most were making the best out of it (that's Aussies for you). But the problem wasn't so much the situation, it was how it was being dealt with. When the power was cut and the lights went out, the mood turned sour pretty quickly. And at the time, nothing was being done. There was no news about when anyone would send rescue. There was around 1500 tourists stranded, this was serious.

Why does this matter to me? One of my housemates works for the government - partially for the Foreign Office, partially for another division that she doesn't tell me much about. She's a bit like a female James Bond and I won't write more about what she does. A lot of the work she does is in the Middle East rather than South America but she was able to help where she could. And she did. Because she's awesome. I knew living with someone who worked for the government would come in handy at some point. Even though I was rather hoping it would involve making my tax bill disappear.

Last year, I blogged about not knowing being one of the worst things. When the bombings happened in London, I had no idea because I was on a train travelling to the middle of nowhere in China. Because of the Chinese censorship laws, the only news I could get to when we finally arrived was stuff my folks were cutting and pasting into email. The not knowing is the worst part. It gives you too much time to imagine the worst. I understood why it was so scary to Gary to have all of this going on. So short of stealing a helicopter, I was trying to help where I could. It was horrible knowing how worried he was and not being able to do very much.

I didn't want to blog about this until I knew that Gary's girlfriend was safe. She's now out of Machu Picchu and safe in Cusco. I wish more people had reported on this (although The Guardian and The Times both spoke to Gary's other half). I also wish something had happened sooner. Why did it take so long for them to get airlifted out? I don't mean why the process took so long - there was a queue of 1500 people, I can do the maths. Sarah isn't (to my knowledge) elderly or with child, so she wasn't a priority. What I mean, is why was she there for two days without any aid? Why didn't the Peruvian government ask for aid? Instead of asking for help, they tried to orchestrate a rescue themselves - something that clearly wasn't working. The situation wasn't as dire as it would have been - according to Gary five people were reported as dead so we're not talking anything like Haiti - but it was getting worse. And it was getting worse quickly. I wonder how many people reading this weren't even aware that the event had happened. Considering we're lucky enough to have access to worldwide news, I can't help thinking that we abuse that privilege. I'm watching the news at the moment. Nothing about Machu Picchu, but a piece on Kate Moss' hair going grey. Lovely. How much about Machu Picchu will be reported once everyone is back home? Who will care?

Gary's girlfriend will be just fine, she's actually planning on catching up with her tour and continuing to Argentina and Chile. I couldn't be happier and I'm pleased that Gary might finally get a decent night's sleep now. But the perspective I have on the British media has shifted. If they're not reporting events like this, what the hell are we reading?

Flickr image from Alex E. Proimos' photostream.

Late last year, I thought it would be fun to set up a dress blog. This week, that's what I did.

I've been playing about this week making sure I'm happy with it, but A Change of a Dress is my new exciting website and it's now live (it's actually been live since midnight but only a couple of people knew that). Most of you know that I'm obsessed with pretty dresses. It's pretty much all I wear. Some of the dresses I love make it on to Domestic Sluttery, but there's some others that are too classic, or too expensive and they never get blogged about. But they're all beautiful so it's about time they did. Now I have my own little place to do that. Nothing but dresses, in my own little corner of the internet.

A Change of a Dress will be updated daily, with whatever lovely new frocks I find. I'm so excited to have a new website that's just for me, but it's going to be strange blogging without a team to back me up. So please go and take a look at what I've been up to this week. I'll be out buying myself a new frock to celebrate my new venture.

1. Ash tickets.
2. Cold Feet DVD.
3. Printing exciting things.
4. New ideas.
5. Hair looks pretty.
6. Boys making me smile.
7. Team making me smile more.
8. Drugs (of the painkiller variety).
9. This tweet.
10. This news story.
11. Old contacts.
12. New contacts.
13. Diet coke.
14. Tomorrow.
15. My bedroom
    

Any year that starts with my best friends, Turkish food and Bloody Marys is going to be fabulous. This whole week has been brilliant and exciting and full of fun things. And indeed, saying yes more. If ever there was a resolution to stick to, it would be that one.

This week I've started a new job, launched a promotion with Habitat and been to Maida Vale and Little Venice for the first time (the canal is stunning when it's iced over). I've spent time with friends, almost finished the most exciting project ever for Domestic Sluttery and well, just generally had a fabulous ol' time. I've even lost a couple of pounds and tried a couple of new cocktails. In a bid to try new things, I tried some guinea fowl today, and now I'm excited about trying more new foodie stuffs this year. Dave and I are finally booked into Fernandez and Leluu's supperclub and I can't wait to go next month. I've been busy, but I've made more time for me, reading books, listening to new bands, working to my own timetable when I can. It's been a fabulous week. There's not much more I can say really, except that I'm really very happy.

Next week? Finishing my MA application, finishing the Top Secret Project, more photography, the belated Domestic Sluttery 'Office Christmas Party' and London Bloggers Meet-up. Hopefully some more work done on my new website as well. Yay.

I have no idea what 2010 will bring, but it's off to a pretty damn good start.

Flickr image from Jennikate's photostream.