I might as well put it out there that I may very well occasionally be eight going on eighteen. I probably consume far too much coffee and far too little chocolate. I refuse to carry umbrellas and I haven't the foggiest idea how to use nail polish. Now that confessions are over - I'm glad you're here.
All in fashion
I told myself I’d sit and write. For two hours, straight. No breaks except for the ladies’ room, for occasional pacing, and for refilling my coffee cup. You know, for the bare necessities. I said that, by the end of the day, (or at least before I sleep,) I’d finish this. Fun fact: it’s not going so smoothly. If this were a razor, it would not get a sexy Venus “smooth as silk” commercial. But I’ve got to do this- I promised.
So, why do all of these beautiful people look like we just stepped on their foot? Or like their dog just died? Why do supermodels never smile? Do they all just have horrific teeth?
Some days, you like a challenge. Other days, you don’t want to struggle. Whether they’re hanging neatly in your closet, in a heap on the floor, or thrown over the back of The Chair, I know they seem like an insurmountable challenge right now.
Yes. I’m talking about putting on pants.
Reading clothing catalogs is always a confusing experience for me. Alice, from Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland once said “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. ” Well, give me a Forever 21 Catalog, and I can become 6 impossible people before my Snooze alarm goes off. Watch me. Becoming a different you is overwhelming. But sometimes, we all need a little “reinventing.”
11 Makeup Tips from a Model Scared of MACⓒ:
Your brows may be the one thing you can get in shape without heading off to Planet Fitness, but most people admire a girl who’s stronger than her eyebrows. There’s something gloriously old-fashioned and simple about waking up with your eyebrows already on your face.
And yet, I don’t really want to tell her anything. “Oh Honey” or not, she’s definitely a lot sweeter than I am. She knows how to train 5 hours a day and then come home and do physics homework. She spends hours teaching herself how to count cards. And she doesn’t say “Fuck” when she drops a pencil. She wasn’t afraid of having “stuff.” Besides, who on earth would want a 4’11’’ kid walking around spouting unenlightened wisdom everywhere? Sounds like a bloody nightmare. She’d be fun at parties.
Things I’ve always been itching to try, things I can’t get out of my head, desires that are hard to calm, those topics I want to jabber endlessly about to someone. Perhaps when desires stop being watery drops of sudsy, vague, unclear ideas that reside in a bucket and start being burning, impossible to ignore, occasionally frustrating itches, I’ll finally stop being so patient, and just scratch. A little Rash decision making is good sometimes.
“Her Lifelong Search to be an Extension Cord,” or “Her Craving to be Irreplaceable to Someone” don’t sound like descriptions of a novel that flies off the shelves or the story to a movie that sets box office records. But, as the love-triangle-avoiding protagonist, which in a non-dystopian world of padded resumes and knitting clubs, I’m afraid that’s as close to a “Quest for Belonging” that I’m going to get.
I wouldn’t doubt I’ve had a day when I’d walk down the street feeling like the Real Cool Kid, listening to the Arctic Monkeys while wearing naturally-ripped jeans, slightly worn shoes and an unevenly smooth jacket. And then, I’ll check my phone for the right address, walk up to that big glass building, and instantly feel like a five year old whose only trip around the block has been on a tricycle. And maybe that’s okay. We all want to seem grown and tough and experienced, and yet, I don’t want to be like that fake-vintage, fake-leather bomber for $12.99 from Forever 21. For a while, I’ll sometimes be stuck being a little stiff. Awkward. Creasing in the wrong places and very very unsure if I’m doing all this right. And I guess that’s okay. I certainly can’t expect my friends and those I care about to all be Mature and Classy and Professional, and thank heavens for that. When worn in, leather will move and mold with your body. I’m sure my world will move and mold alongside me, while hopefully retaining a capacity for stupid nonsense that I know I’ll always have. Maybe it’s a good reminder to me to not be afraid to befriend those who have stood the test of time. We like the idea of worn-in, well-seasoned things: leather, denim, cast-iron. Tough material showing it can take a beating. Some day, if I’m lucky, I might be “Worn in a Really Cool Way,” but until then, I guess I’ll have to wear my unwrinkled novelty in the coolest way I can.
