25/03/2025
Spring Renewal – A New Tradition is Born!
Spring has always felt like a time to celebrate, but I never quite knew how. The equinox is upon us, and while I love the idea of marking the shift in seasons, the whole neo-pagan, candlelit, dancing-in-the-woods thing always felt a bit… Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I mean, lovely in theory, but not really me. Still, I wanted something—something that felt like a fresh start, a reset, a moment to step forward into the lighter half of the year with a sense of renewal and excitement.
Well, I think I’ve cracked it. And all it took was a girls’ day out with my big sister.
First stop: Next. Now, I’ll be honest—my wardrobe has seen better days. This winter, I’ve pretty much lived in ancient trackie bottoms and Dan’s old hoodie (which, to be fair, was his until it shrank in the wash and no longer fit him, so now it’s mine). My walking boots are permanently covered in a layer of countryside, and my sense of style—if I ever had one—was buried somewhere under layers of practicality.
We walked into Next full of hope. I lasted about ten minutes before feeling overwhelmed. The colours, the fabrics, the shapes—was I meant to know what I was doing? I needed help. Proper help. So I did something I’ve never done before: I asked if they had a personal shopper service.
Game. Changer.
Enter Teigan, a stunning young woman effortlessly rocking a silky leopard-print skirt with a casual top, looking exactly like the kind of person who knows what they’re doing in a clothing store. I gave her my life story in under two minutes: I needed a wardrobe that would see me through Spring and Summer (value for money!), be work-appropriate yet casual enough for real life, and also practical because I’d be jumping onto canal boats, starting up engines, and generally doing things. Oh, and if she could make me look younger, fitter, and effortlessly stylish, that would be fab.
Also, I’d gone grey (which I love by the way), but my old colours didn’t suit me anymore, and I was feeling a bit… lost. It was like my skin tone had changed overnight, and everything I used to wear now made me look like a slightly haunted version of myself. I needed a total refresh.
Teigan did not hesitate. “Pick anything that catches your eye. Don’t overthink it. Just see what you’re drawn to.” Then, with quiet authority, she began handing me things I would normally run from. A leopard-print skirt (absolutely not). A flowy dress (please no). White trousers (I work outdoors?!). But into the changing room they went.
Kathryn grabbed us coffees and settled into a comfy chair, ready to give her help with verdicts. I was herded into a changing room and told to start trying things on.
First dress? Horrendous. Uncomfortable, weirdly shaped, not at all me. I stepped out. Teigan studied me for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got it on back to front.”
Right. Back in, I went. From outside, laughter erupted.
At some point, a mini audience had gathered—other women trying on clothes, offering each other opinions, nodding in agreement, sharing their own shopping traumas. Kathryn, had somehow turned into the chair of the Next Changing Room Style Panel, offering positive advice alongside Teigan to anyone who needed it.
I tried on so many outfits. Some I instantly hated. Some surprised me. Even the leopard-print skirt (I’ll admit this just once) looked bloody amazing with a white t-shirt and denim jacket. Who knew?! Apparently, Teigan knew.
By the end of it, Kathryn joined in and we had even bought the same dress in the same colour—meaning all future family events now require strict outfit coordination to avoid looking like we belong to some kind of cult.
At the checkout, I braced for financial pain. I’d set a £300 budget (which, for me, is huge), but somehow, miraculously, the total came in at £240—an entire week’s worth of outfits sorted in one go.
But we weren’t done. Oh no.
Next stop: Barnham Broom Country Club & Spa.
Now, let me explain just how bad my wardrobe situation was. Before we left Next, I actually went back into the changing room, swapped into my new jeans and a new top, and only then felt presentable enough to go to the spa. That’s how bad.
Barnham Broom was everything we needed. The golfers were out, looking terribly posh, and at one point, we stopped to admire a man’s very fancy soft-top car (he was thrilled to have an audience, let me tell you). Then we breezed past them, got ourselves a day pass, and entered a world of pure luxury.
Pool. Sauna. An hour of just sitting in the heat, letting my entire winter self dissolve into a puddle of relaxation. Then a manicure and a facial, followed by afternoon tea in the lounge where we sat, utterly pampered, nibbling on tiny sandwiches and feeling extremely pleased with ourselves.
We walked out glowing—not just from the facial, but from the entire experience. And that’s when it hit me.
This. This is my new Spring Equinox ritual.
Not just the clothes, or the spa, or the ridiculously indulgent afternoon tea. But the feeling. The reset. The celebration of self, of renewal, of sisterhood—not just with my actual sister, but with every woman we met that day. Teigan, the spa therapists, the waitress who chatted with us in the lounge. Everyone, without even meaning to, had been part of this moment of joy, encouragement, and renewal.
And the best part? I let myself enjoy it. No guilt. No inner voice saying, this is too much, you shouldn’t be spending money on yourself. Just acceptance that I deserved it.
And I feel bloody brilliant for it.
So, I’m calling it now. Spring Equinox Spa & Shopping Day is officially A Thing. And I’m thinking an Autumn one might be in order too…
