Five Best Things About Having An Older Sibling
So I’d say as of today, my stress levels have reached an all time high. My dissertation is due next week and I am not ready, my final project is due the week after and I am not ready and I have some huge blogging deadlines coming up, for which I am of course, not ready. The weather has been unquestionably shit over the past few days which has meant my shooting schedule has been royally fucked up, so to add to me being not ready, I am now actually late for not being ready. I am not ready to be not ready.
With deadlines looming but knowing I needed to squeeze in a shoot as soon as possible, there was only one person I was going to turn to – Joe, my older brother. As my longest suffering photographer, he is often on-call to save me from desperate situations and despite moaning about the cold and being guilty of the odd out-of-focus shot, he always agrees to help me. So I text him, begged him, and got a taxi to meet him on his lunch break which he so graciously sacrificed half of to help me in the most miserable weather ever. Ledge.
Thinking about this whilst I edited the shots from our speedy meet up, I decided it would be nice to more formally show some appreciation for the wonders of having an older sibling rather than rabbiting on about finding another perfect pair of cropped
trousers. But before I delve into the tumultuous but wonderful sibling history of physical fights and Joe accidentally burning down our garden shed, I have to say a quick few words about this outfit courtesy of the babes at Daisy Street
I cannot get enough of blue denim at the moment as you guys well know, so when I saw this distressed pair of cropped jeans
on the Daisy Street website, they’d basically already set up shop on my clothes rail. When they came they were full length for me (do not fear, I’m only 5ft tall), but thanks to a new found confidence with scissors, I easily snipped off the bottoms and was able to achieve that raw hem look that everybody is coveting right now. Paired with this simple but quirky unicorn tee
(I got a large to go oversized) and the IT accessories of the moment – glove shoes
and a tie up choker
– and I had created denim minimalists dream. And of course, a girl can’t go bagless, so this beaut Pieces bucket bag
from Dizen Clothing
was the perfect size for fitting in all of my essentials and still being lightweight.
Joe is nearly 3 years older than me and he’ll be 25 at the end of the year (sooo olddddd hun), and despite trying to murder each other during those awkward pre-teen-16 year old years, we’ve always been very close and now are certified bezzie m8s. We play games together, get drunk together and share our closest friends. We also disagree violently and get on each other’s nerves (I leave used plates and bowls in his room, he is literally always in the way) but nothing is ever so bad that can’t be resolved with food and recalling a memory from our boozy holiday to Spain. The list of pros could go on forever, but here are the best 5 things about having an older sibling…
- You can make jokes about your parents: Parents are weird things and they certainly let this weirdness shine through; Joe is the only person I can share my constant state of bewilderment with, as well as being the only person who knows what I’m talking about when I say ‘waspy waspy woo’. Having an older sibling means you don’t have to suffer your parents alone, and it also means that you can unite forces and take the piss out of them when they start to get on your nerves too much.
- You have your own language (and the best nicknames): Trying to organise a drunken night out in our local park would have been a hundred times more difficult if Joe and I hadn’t found alternative ways to communicate. Whether this was through that look, through subtle texts whilst in the same room or using glaringly-obvious codewords (el drinko @ el parko?? genius), growing up with an older sibling means you’ll inevitably have to conjure up your own shared language as well as the weirdest, but most endearing nicknames. For some reason Joe and I refer to each other as Shrew, as well as my designated moniker being ‘Teeny Tiny Chlou’ and his being ‘Joulene’. They’re throwbacks to a random Spanish bloke not being able to say our names, but they’ve stuck ever since and now Chlou is basically my main identity.
- You always have someone to do stuff with: You’re never stuck doing things alone. Want to go out for dinner but can’t really be bothered to talk whilst you’re stuffing a burrito down yourself? Check. Found a last minute gig and need a guaranteed good-time companion? Check. Want to go shopping but don’t want to buy yourself presents? Check. The added benefit to this is that you don’t have to suffer family events alone, as you always have your partner in crime on hand. Take that random/awkward birthday parties.
- Nobody else is funnier: Hands down, nobody makes me laugh more than Joe. Having spent 22 years with him he not only understands my sense of humour, he is my sense of humour. We often find ourselves engaged in a supreme stare battle, determined not to crack a smile in order to be crowned the definitive best sibling. The great thing about having an older sibling who is funny as fuck is that if you find yourself in the shittest of shitty moods, you always have somebody on hand to cheer you up if all else fails. What’s funnier than your older sibling taking the piss out of your Mum’s phone voice?
- You have a best friend who loves you: Jokes and practicalities aside, the best thing about having an older sibling is having a best friend that loves you, and who you love in return, beyond measure. No matter what stupid shit either of you do, no matter how rude you get because you’re stressed about work and no matter what you do with your hair (Joe bleached his hair when he was younger and I’ve only just forgiven him), you have a lifelong bond with somebody that is always going to genuinely want the best for you, gimmicks and bullshit aside. That is a wonderful thing, and I am eternally grateful to have such a sassy Shrew as my partner-in-crime.