We’ve all been there. I frequent it about once a week, because it’s among my favorite places to visit.
Sometimes I’m just tired. There are days when I get home from the office and decide that sitting on my couch for an hour while staring at the wall is the equivalent of a dream come true (remember to always reach for the stars, everyone). There’s always the intent—such good intentions—but then dinner has to be made, freelance has to be worked on, lunch and outfits have to be prepared for the next day (haha, that’s not true: I never do that because I enjoy first-thing-in-the-morning panic attacks), and as the list of things to do grows longer, I realize a task has to be sacrificed. But it’s not the washing per se that’s taxing—that’s whatever enough. It’s the maintenance, the styling; it’s the blow-drying, the straightening, the curling, if for some reason I find it logical to straighten my hair and then curl it again. Because my hair takes work and there are some days, my dears, when I just do not feel like dealing.
But while I’m all accepting of me, myself and I in the little cocoon of a world that is my apartment, I have to deal with my choice when it comes to actually going out in public. I naturally have thick, coarse, curly hair, and as it becomes more and more granola, the strands on top of the head begins to lay flat and close, while the rest of it—which by this point is undoubtedly dry, frizzy, and a hot mess—flies wildly everywhere. It looks amazing, and by amazing I mean not amazing.
So what’s a girl to do? Disguise it! Hide it! Because I’m okay with being a little crunchy, but even I have my limits. In order to distract the world from my greezy situation, I pull my locks back tightly with hairspray, gel, mousse, anything, and position hairbands everywhere. Then I just run with it. I run with it and lie ass lie until I can lather my frizzy little ‘do up. Which is usually the next day, because chances are I’ll come home and fall asleep instead.
Photos below once again taken with my iPhone. I remembered my DSLR this time, but then forgot to charge the battery. So what I’m trying to say is, I’m killin’ it per usual. Obviously.
Here I am being cool and all like, “Cowabunga, wind shot,” and then Nature decided to put me in my place.
I don’t even know what to say about this.
Epic-fail windbreaker, linen tee, and nuclear pants all from J. Crew. I bought them during a flash sale, at which time the employee who rang me up made the executive decision that I was a student and thus gave me that extra discount on top of everything, and I made the executive decision that it would be impolite for me to correct her.
And that's about it. So remember, guys: