Closer Magazine September - 2012 Pdf 12

On page 34, we talk to three real women who did something radical last weekend: they turned off their phones. No Instagram stalking. No frantic WhatsApp groups. One of them, 32-year-old receptionist Chloe from Manchester, spent Saturday morning just staring at a wall. “I cried,” she told us. “Because I realised I hadn’t been still for ten years.”

We try the ‘Cinnamon Challenge’ so you don’t have to. Plus, the £10 dress that looks like Prada.

That isn’t sad. That is survival.

This month, we’re launching a new campaign. Forget ‘New Year, New You.’ We want ‘Same You, But Quieter.’ Closer Magazine September 2012 Pdf 12

There’s a particular kind of sadness that creeps in around the third week of September. The BBQ tongs are back in the drawer. The last of the rosé has been drunk. And somehow, even though it’s still technically ‘back to school’ season, we’re already feeling the weight of those darker nights pressing against the window pane.

So here is your permission slip, dated September 2012. Tear it out. Stick it on the fridge.

Remember that promise you made yourself in June? “This summer, I’ll relax.” Did you? Or did you spend July worrying about the credit card bill, August stressing about the kids being bored, and the first week of September pretending you love making packed lunches? On page 34, we talk to three real

Autumn doesn’t have to be about ‘hunkering down’ in the boring sense. It can be about retreating to recharge. Put the kettle on. Light the cheap candle. Watch the Great British Bake Off without feeling guilty that you aren’t baking along with them.

In 2012, we are expected to be available 24/7. We are expected to have the body of Cheryl Cole, the patience of the Queen, and the social life of Kate Middleton. It’s a fantasy. And it’s making us miserable.

So go on. Be selfish for five minutes. The world will still be spinning when you come back. And honestly? You’ll be much nicer to everyone else when you do. One of them, 32-year-old receptionist Chloe from Manchester,

We spend so long trying to be the perfect girlfriend, the perfect employee, the perfect daughter, that we forget to be the perfect friend to ourselves .

Permission to cancel plans without a medical emergency. Permission to eat the leftover pasta standing up and call it dinner. Permission to admit that you don’t love the Fifty Shades trilogy. Permission to go to bed at 9:15pm on a Saturday.