I just can’t wrap my head around this whole obsession with “custom makeup tutorials.” Like, who has the time or the precision for custom anything during the morning chaos? You know those days when you’re wrestling with your eyeliner, and it seems to have its own rebellious agenda. Anyway, that’s probably why I end up looking like I partied harder than a panda—sleep-deprived and slightly confused.
[INSERT_IMAGE_1]
And don’t even get me started on dressing to impress. Impress who? The cat that ignores me? Sometimes, it feels like there’s a secret fashion memo that everyone gets but me. I look at my closet (mostly hoodies and jeans), then scroll through Instagram and see people wearing these meticulously selected “effortless” outfits that scream hours of planning. There’s always this one combo on these slick Instagram feeds, where someone pairs the chicest dress with sneakers. Meanwhile, when I try it, I resemble a confused athlete at a gala.
It’s like there’s an unspoken dress code for every occasion, and I’m a member of the wrong club. Weddings, for instance, are a minefield. An invite says formal, but what level of formal, exactly? Do they want us to turn up as New York Fashion Week-ready guests or subtly elegant casuals? (Trust me, an awkward middle ground is where I often end up.)
[INSERT_IMAGE_2]
Then there’s the drama of of dressing. Every “what to wear” decision ends up being a tug-of-war with my style and this imaginative outfit god who insists I try a shiny sequined top at 9 AM because “hey, you only live once.” Yeah, try living with that choice when you find out it’s actually a pajama day at the office.
Somehow, I think I was born and missed the seminar on fashion literacy. So here I am, binging on streams of random tutorials with one eye on a wardrobe app that I swear exists solely to mock me.
My eyes still hurt. I need coffee. Ugh.