Coming home after a few years abroad could be best described, as “same, same but different.” Everything is familiar, but not exactly as you left it.
This has been most apparent when it comes to friends. No one hit the pause button the day I flew out and “re-entry” was not as seamless as I had imagined it would be. So, before diving into the deep end of a new social ‘pool,’ I took the opportunity to sit back and reassess my friendships. I undertook this social spring-clean with the precision and accuracy of any ‘virgoan’ worth her grain of salt, by grouping my mates into virtual piles using the tried and tested ‘clothing comfort’ scale. The way I see it there are four types of friends;
These besties are like the comfy tracky dacks you’ve had forever. They know your deepest, darkest secrets, they’ve seen the good, the bad and the ugly and they still love you. While you don’t necessarily live in each other’s pockets, you know you could call them at 2am if you needed to. You trust them implicitly and you have each other’s backs.
These mates are like your fave well-worn denim jeans. It takes ages to ‘break’ them in and they are almost impossible to replace. Comfortable, easy, trustworthy and reliable. You’d be happy to hang out every day. Not quite as comfy as your trackies but unreal none the less.
These friends are like your newish pair of skinny jeans. We’re all keen for them to become well worn (but some just never do). NSJ’s have the potential to move ‘up’ a spot, but probably just lacked the right opportunity (sort of a friendship sliding doors). We live in hope that they’ll become FDJ’s. They are genuinely cool but not entirely comfortable and if truth be told you’d rather hang out with your tracckies or well-worns.
This group are more like acquaintances than friends and can be likened to a push up bra under a figure hugging dress.
They might look good on the hanger but you can’t wait to get them off. FHD’s are totally superficial friendships with no substance or potential to move ‘up.’ They’ll drop you like a hot cake the minute someone more important, popular or influential comes along.
FHD : Cue ‘air kiss’ … “we must catch up for that coffee sometime soon”
Translation : “I’ve got no intention of ever calling you but would love to know what you’re up to so I can pass it on to every other vacuous airhead in the neighbourhood who thrives on unsubstantiated gossip”
My ‘tracky dacks’ are scattered far and wide. I’m lucky to have accumulated a few in each of (the many) places I’ve lived … but sadly they’re not all around me on a day to day basis, so I’m happily spending more time with my ‘well worn jeans’, I’m reassessing the pool of skinny jeans and I am avoiding the ‘figure huggers’ like the plague. I’m still recruiting; shop’s not shut, but all applicants will be thoroughly screened against a strict and lengthy set of criteria, because as Mark Twain said; “It’s easy to make friends, but hard to get rid of them.”