I have never been one to dedicate hours getting ready for a night out, or felt the need to spend a fortune on lotions and potions to preserve my skin. However, since hitting my 30s, night cream, eye gel and the word Q10 have become an integral part of my bathroom cabinet!

After years of “experimenting” with a rainbow of hair colours from pillar box red to golden streaks, and that attractive 2-tone look that was big in the 90s, I matured into my late 20s with the decision to embrace my natural dark brown tresses. Until that is the arrival of my no1 son, his twin brother and sister 3 years later, the sleepless nights, the colic years, the terrible twos have all resulted in my middle parting taking a witchy white streak look! The odd grey hair.. lets be honest actuallly the odd white curly coarse hair went into nuclear multiply mode when I became a Mum, now I find myself ‘having my roots done’ every 5 weeks!

Along with the grey hairs, you have to adapt to the saddle bags on your lower back and no matter how many sit-ups I do the knowledge that I’ll never bare my midriff again!

It’s a small price to pay for my little darlings I know, I’ve had 3 gorgeous healthy children for which I’m hugely thankful for and was more than happy to sub-let my body for their incubation period.

It’s just a matter of wearing bigger belts, standing that little bit further from the mirror when applying my make-up and keep up the fight in the battle of the white hair.

It’s because they’re worth it!

I can remember watching The Clothes Show as a teenager with a notepad and pen, with Jeff Banks gushing at the models in an abandoned “urban chic” warehouse setting, feeling excited at the prospect of buying the latest outfit for my non-uniform day at school!

Throughout my 20s and my career in the media, I tried to establish my own style, working within a trendy ‘make it look like your style comes naturally’ environment. I did feel confident to team satin tights with kitten heels, tartan skirt and cable knit sweater along with my Cinammon Pink edgy bob, while I browsed at Top Shop Oxford St in my lunch hour thinking I was soooo original. Now I’m mid thirties, At Home Mum, in the years of no pressure, or so I thought…. but instead I find it more confusing, more pressured and more frustrating than ever to have a sense of style!

Now a bulk of my wardrobe seems to come via a silver package in the post, La Redoute, Ebay Outlet, ASOS, BooHoo. I do feel like a fraud in Top Shop now, feeling the glare of nubile 20 somethings staring at me while I consider a possible purchase. I did a very quick circuit of Miss Selfridges the other day and when a young heavily bronzed sales assistant asked if I needed any help, I lied and told her that I was shopping for my niece… why? I’m not exactly old before my time, I reckon I can still rock a short denim skirt with leggings, I still have an edgy-ish bob but why do we feel the paranoia of age?

For all the Mum’s out there that are happy to do their parental role but struggle to remember who they once were.

If your former self has been pushed to the backburner.

How you once planned your wardrobe from the pages of Marie Clarie, but now find yourself picking up a “nice top” in Tesco’s during your weekly shop.

If the aim of your day used to mean getting your inbox clear so you could get to the pub after work but now means covering the school runs, ballet classes and football matches.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s fab to be a Mum, but you have to remember the Ounce Of You that still harbours within!