Champagne Taste, Beer Money and a Nose Screw

It’s been a while since I last posted, but I’ve had a flare-up and, as anyone who lives with fibromyalgia knows, they can take weeks to recover from. Weeks of slowly piecing yourself back together until you vaguely resemble a functioning member of society again.

I’ve also been taking up trousers like it’s my new full-time career.

Champagne Taste, Beer Money and a Nose Screw

That little venture has made me decide to add alterations to my online shop. Mainly because I can’t keep accepting Dairy Milk as payment. I’ve lost almost six stone over the last year, and the amount of chocolate currently being handed over in exchange for hems and repairs would put every pound straight back on by teatime.

Anyway… champagne taste, beer money, and a nose screw.

I’ve always liked nice things. I work hard, I enjoy little luxuries, and I’ve always aimed for more. Years ago, someone once told me to marry for money, not love.

Questionable advice? Absolutely.

Advice I occasionally wish I’d taken? Also yes.

Still, never mind. I’ve got my own money now, and believe me, I know exactly how to spend it.

At 38, I got to relive my youth, only this time with actual disposable income and significantly less questionable decision-making (well… debatable).

I started getting tattoos, had my nose pierced, and discovered drinking.

Those of you who’ve read my previous blogs may be raising an eyebrow at that last one, and quite rightly.

One tattoo became eight.

One pint became several regrettable hangovers.

But one piercing? That stayed firmly at one.

I had my ears pierced as a teenager. I don’t remember the pain, but I do remember the anxiety: two girls with piercing guns, counting down from three like they were launching a missile. They didn’t last long because I’m weirdly obsessed with my earlobes, or lack of them. If you asked my childhood babysitter, she’d probably tell you I could have won Olympic gold for absent-mindedly rubbing her earlobes.

Once the earrings came out, they never went back in.

I gave piercing another go at 18 with my belly button, but by 40 I’d conveniently forgotten how much it all hurt and decided a nose piercing was exactly what my life needed.

Reader, it hurt like hell.

My eyes watered, I fought back tears, and I can confidently say it hurt far more than any of my tattoos.

Now, because I clearly like making life difficult for myself, I decided I needed the perfect jewellery for it.

I wanted a white gold nose screw with a diamond.

Simple enough, you’d think.

Apparently not.

After searching high and low and wasting money on ill-fitting screws that vanished into thin air (where do they actually go? They must be with all my lost socks), I gave up trying to find the perfect one and did what any woman with champagne taste would do, had one custom-made.

That’s when I found Natalie Clarke.

A talented local jeweller creating beautiful bespoke pieces, all handmade with care, skill, and far less chaos and cat hair than my own creative workspace.

My dream nose screw is finally under construction, custom-fit and exactly what I wanted from the start.

Natalie’s pieces are delicate, feminine, beautifully crafted, and clearly made with love.

There’s something really special about supporting another woman who’s following her passion and building something of her own.

In many ways, we’re doing the same thing, creating beautiful things by hand and hoping the world falls a little bit in love with them.

Although I know her studio is considerably more organised than mine.

If you love beautifully handcrafted jewellery, go and have a look at Natalie Clarke Jewellery.

Trust me, some things are worth having made properly.

Until next time, stay fabulous, spend wisely (or don’t), and remember, life’s too short for cheap jewellery and badly fitting trousers.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have hems to sew, cats to de-fluff from fabric, and a custom nose screw to impatiently wait for.

Thanks for reading and supporting this little corner of creative chaos.

Don’t forget to subscribe for updates, new products, and more tales from the wonderfully messy world of More Shabby Than Chic.

With love and a little bit of sass,

Rhiannon x