Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra

Okay, I know we are all beautiful, in every single way … Words. Can’t. Bring. Us. Down. But right now … I’m going to try to bring it down … for, you know, the common good of society.

What is up with every female … and some males … taking “MeGraphs”? What is a “MeGraph” you ask? It is when someone takes their camera or phone … either or, either or, and takes a picture of themselves and posts it to some social media outlet.

MeGraphs have escalated to the pondering girl, the “I’m so bored,” girl, the excited girl, the OMG look at this outfit I just randomly put together, but in reality took me all afternoon girl, the I’m pretending to not give a shit but actually it hurts … THAT is how hard I’m trying girl, the “I’m so nerdy, tee hee” … but in reality I’ve been trying for the past 45 minutes to be super sexy girl, and so on and so forth. All of which makes me want to, in the words of Chris Farley, rest his soul, drive my car into a God damn bridge embankment.

My question is, why? For the love of Jesus … why? Cool … you are wearing something awesome and want the world to see? Post it, go on with your bad self … but don’t act so blase about it. You want to post it because you think your look is the shit … so my God … say it. Scream it from the rooftops … that is why you are posting it to social media.

The only people who have the right to take “MeGraphs” and clog up my Instagram newsfeed are the following: Models, actors/actresses/people in the fashion industry. AND. THAT. IS. IT. If you are not in the following categories, then sorry kid … allow the photographs to happen organically. If a friend or family member would like to shoot a picture of you watching Gossip Girl on the couch with your cat looking bored … then so be it. Throw that shit on Instagram. But besides that … STOP.

So curious as to when the appropriate time to take a “MeGraph” is?

Here is a foolproof checklist that will make it crystal clear: 

1. If you suddenly become famous … like the paparazzi is parked in front of your crib famous

2. If you suddenly become an editor at Vogue

3. If you suddenly get to co-star in Justin Timberlake’s next film

4. If you just got your makeup done and you look absolutely stunning … show that shit off

5. If someone ELSE will be in the photo with you … green light … ding, ding, ding

6. If you are 100% whole heartedly against duck facing … but still … refrain

7. If you just got done modeling for Marc Jacob’s fall print campaign and running to do Burberry’s next

8. If you have a black eye … (I assume it would have an interesting story behind it to make up for the MeGraph)

9. If you just got a face tattoo

10. If you are online dating and need a really fantastic profile shot and ONLY will post it to said dating site … ONLY

If you do not fall into ANY of the above categories … then my sincere apologies but … no MeGraph for you. I’m sorry … I can’t allow my readers to have awkward MeGraphs … I just can’t.

And just so we are clear, here is the list of awkward MeGraphs: 

1. When you look bored

2. When you look super serious

3. When you duck face

4. When you pretend you’re sleeping

5. When you do anything besides smile

6. When you try to act like you are in an ad in Vogue but really you are in your cubicle

7. When you pretend said photograph is totally candid, except we can see your arm awkwardly extended … aaaaaand there were probably 20 bad versions before this one

8. When you try to act sexy and seductive … I mean … awkward. Totally awkward.

9. When you are trying waaaaaay too hard to be “dorky” “goofy” “light-hearted” by making a weird face

10. When you take a photo in the mirror

I apologize if I just crushed your soul because all these years you thought taking these MeGraphs were a form of self-expression … but in reality, they are quite vain and at the end of the day, I just want the best for you.

Think before you post, people.

I never really thought about the age-old saying, “always dress like you are about to come face to face with your worst enemy.” But that statement couldn’t be more true. I’m pretty sure everyone can agree that when you look like absolutely death, hair a hot mess, no makeup, ripped sweats and bagging clothes, hung over as balls, is when you will run into that long-lost love of your life, or Justin Bieber, or perhaps even your boyfriends parents for the first time. I don’t know why the hell the universe works like this, but it does. It is a cruel, cruel world.

I remember after I got my hair and makeup done for my best friends wedding months ago, all I wanted to do was run into everyone I’ve ever met because I looked so fab (and I rarely ever say that about myself). But I barely saw my own mother that day. It almost seems like you need to plan a party after you get your hair dyed or your make up did just so you are guaranteed to see people you know and show off the goods. But even if you were to go ahead and do something like that, you would probably end up falling in a huge mud filled manhole or something right before walking into the venue.

But to think of always being on your toes style-wise and looks-wise seems like an exhausting endeavor. My God, we aren’t even safe running to our cars in the morning. I can throw on what I wore last night, run my hands through my hair, throw on my shades … and I’ll be good to go, right? Nope. That’s when you are ALWAYS seen … by EVERYONE. They are out in MASSES. It is like everyone got a press release to be out in the street that you are walking on. It is mortifying, it is uncomfortable, it is awkward … and more than anything you just wonder to yourself, why now, lord … seriously?!

I usually try really hard to be on my toes and not look a hot mess. But for example, this week I was absurdly sick … like I don’t even remember Monday. I literally drove myself to the doctors without any makeup on, did not touch my hair from sleeping on it, wore my sweatpants that don’t fit me and have holes in them, a matching comfy sweatshirt that only my cat sees me in, and flats. When you are that sick, you don’t care. But oh yes, who is sitting in my doctor’s office? This older woman who I worked with at this clothing store when I was a SENIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL. Trust me, I didn’t sweat this one, but I was terrified she was going to recognize me and start small talk when all I wanted to do was crawl under my car and die slowly.

My point is … you could know you are coming face to face with a girl you LOATHE and spend hours planning the perfect outfit, the perfect hair, the perfect makeup … and something will go wrong. You just can’t plan for these types of things … ever, because the universe already planned them out for you … that saucy minx.

My piece of advice: Walk tall and wear REALLY large shades.

I’m going to draw you a picture right now. I’m laying in bed, mentally beaten down after a rough week … and maybe I might have raging PMS, just saying. But here I am trying to think of something to pull me out of this silly emotional hole I’m in. It goes a little something like this: Do I go shopping? No … I’m too lazy. Maybe I’ll just order a pizza and rent a movie. No, then I’ll get fat. Perhaps I should go get my nails done … I do need a new gel manicure. No I should probably save and wait to get my hair dyed. But to do ombre or to not do ombre. Hmm … maybe a massage is the ticket. I can afford a $50 massage. But then there is the tip to consider … and I REALLY need to get my hair dyed and should put the money towards that. AND SCENE.

I know … shut it already, whiney brat. Regardless it comes down to the fact that I’m cheap and when it comes to doing something to make yourself sparkle a little … I like to think economically, not spontaneously. But within that mental hodgepodge I just shared with you above, it made me think about how much money us ladies would have to spend every two weeks or every month (depending on the lady, of course) to be fully put together … mentally and physically. This is the economical approach, but I did a little mental math.

Behold, the cost of getting ourselves fully did every month. Mind you, the prices are not 100% accurate since all salons are different … but they are definitely in the right range. Try not to vom.

Eye brows waxed: $10 + $2 tip = $12

Bikini Wax or Brazilian (If you get down with that): $50 + $10 tip = $60

Gel Manicure (2 times a month since it only lasts 2 weeks): $30 + $6 tip = $36 X 2 = $72

Getting Hair Dyed (Obviously this depends on the person, but for simplicity’s sake, let’s say this is a single process): $60 + $12 tip = $72

Hair Cut with Blow Out: $60 + $12 tip = $72

Pedicure: $25 + $5 tip = $30

Spray Tan: $40 + $8 tip = $48

One Hour Massage: $50 + $10 tip = $60

Lip waxing: $12 + $2 tip = $14

Facial: $60 + $12 tip = $72

Gym Membership: $40 a month 

And the grand total? $552! Per month. FIVE. HUNDRED. AND. FIFTY. TWO. DOLLARS. AMERICAN! Hello crazytown … what up? My GOD. I mean mind you maybe you wouldn’t get your hair cut and colored every month … but definitely every three, at least. Could you imagine that though? And that isn’t even going to the real ritzy salons!

All I’m saying is … thank Jesus there are places like Ulta that carry products that allow us to do some of those things ourselves for more than half the cost. I’m going to speak for most women in their 20′s and some in their 30′s and 40′s and 50′s even and say that no one can afford to get themselves 100% worked over every single month. That is why every now and then we’ll have insane roots, bushman eyebrows, a busted manicure, a tore up to the floor up pedicure, pale as shit skin since we don’t have time or energy to actually sit out in the sun, and bodies that don’t exactly look like Gisele’s.

In other news … I decided pizza and a movie are my best bet. I don’t need to get a manicure this month … right?

Fortunately, but unfortunately we are women (and if you are a man reading this, well … I can’t help you right now). It is in our ungodly nature to be catty. If you just read that and said to yourself, “hey, way to give into stereotypes because I’ve NEVER said ANYTHING bad about another woman in my LIFE.” Hey you … get off your stupid high horse because you are a dirty liar. Straight up. You’ve talked shit. We all have. Whether you thought it, whispered it to someone, had the audacity to say it to the persons face, tweeted it, texted it … it has happened. Don’t have a Regina George complex:

“Some of us shouldn’t have to take this workshop because some of us are the victims here.” – Mean Girls. We are all victims and bad guys.

So in elementary school through high school, I don’t know when it happened or how it happened or who said it to me, but someone made a comment about an outfit that I was wearing and from that day on, I stayed in the safe zone. Even if deep down I really wanted to dress like Carrie Bradshaw, whatever was on sale at the Gap was mine. Don’t get me wrong, I dressed nicely, but expressive of my personal style? Not so much. Why? Because I was scared shitless that someone was going to make fun of me. And only until you become comfortable in your own skin can you really put all that outside noise to bed and dress for you. It’s been a slow and exhausting process, but I’m FINELY getting the balls to wear what makes me happy, what makes me shine as a person and what expresses who I am.

And you would think in adult world, people wouldn’t comment rudely on what you are wearing … but it happens. Crazytown, right? I’ve witnessed and heard about dumb things ladies say to one another about what they are wearing. “That [fill in garment] is … interesting,” has to be one of my favorites. No, what you are trying to say is I look weird and you would never wear something like that. But Jesus … what is the point of saying that to someone!? Keep it to yourself! What are you accomplishing by pointing out something someone is wearing and not giving them a compliment? You are making them feel super awkward and self-conscious and potentially making them feel like shit, and if you think you aren’t … you are violently wrong. And that is when personal style gets stifled. Know that.

Our parents were wise gifting us with this age-old piece of advice: If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. A-freaking-men. I’m not saying I don’t think to myself every now and then, “wow that outfit is a hot mess … someone didn’t look at themselves in the mirror today.” And I know it isn’t nice, but I would NEVER go up to that person and say, “wow … you look … something today,” because I know it would make them feel awful, and hey … maybe that is their personal style, so I keep my mouth shut.

We gotta throw each other more compliments. We just have to. Going through life for so long dressing the way everyone else was dressing and not letting myself buy the things I wanted to because of being scared of the comments … sucked. But we gotta encourage each others personal style. Even if you don’t like it … don’t say anything! Or dig deep into your dark soul and pull something nice out to say. It is as simple as that. Unless you are saying, “hey, great dress,” or “wow, those shoes are fierce,” or “man, you really just look fantastic today,” then just … don’t. Because these comments that seem like they might be compliments but aren’t … suck. They are the new insult.

So in the words of Tina Fey, “we gotta stop calling each other sluts and whores because it makes it okay for others to call you that.” Well yeah … that too, but we gotta stop taking each other down to make ourselves feel better, because it does more damage than you think.

Here is to encouraging personal style.

If my life was a sitcom, yesterday’s episode would be called “Kate Against IKEA.” I went to IKEA on the mission for a new chair for my vanity … since the one I’m currently using is like a broke ass $20 computer chair (I’m so classy, aren’t I?) Well I ended up getting sucked into the Swedish vortex, dancing around the desk section daydreaming about relaxing with a cup of hot tea, pondering Carrie Bradshaw-style, blogging away the hours. Long story short, I landed on a fabulous desk, only to bring it home and find that it was missing pieces. Hmph.

So I stormed back into Philly, guns blazing to return screwed up desk #1. I found myself trapped in my head, swimming in thoughts of how nothing works out for me, especially in IKEA, how I’m sore from lugging that stupid broken desk back and forth, and what I had to do to get one of these people to help me … for the LOVE, when I heard, “Oh my GOD … I LOVE your skirt!” Of course I heard the word “skirt” and turned around instantaneously only to find a chic woman standing behind me complimenting on my skirt, asking where I got it, etc. Immediately I was ripped out of all the heinousness swirling around in my head to speak to this insanely nice woman, who I chatted with briefly, and who left me with a smile on my face, washing away thoughts of wanting to shank someone in IKEA.

Sure it was a tiny compliment, but it made me sincerely happy when my sunny Sunday had taken a sharp turn to shit. For the rest of the day, my attitude was definitely more positive. Even when I brought home desk #2, which was screwed up as well, I was able to regain my center and not freak the eff out. I’m sure it wasn’t all due to that woman’s sincere compliment, but it sure helped. Knowing there are sincerely nice people out there … helps.

So what I’m saying, ladies is that we need to stop being Judgey McJudgersons. I’m giving this advice to myself as well. I saw one of those EE cards that said, “Look at that bitch, eating those crackers like she owns the place,” and it made me think that I am SO guilty of having evil thoughts like this for no reason sometimes. It is so easy to say, “ugh, why is she drinking her water like that” or “what is up with that hair style,” or “honestly, who does she think she is dressing like that,” to hide from our insecurities or resentments or sheer distaste for that person. But at the end of the day, a piece of clothing or the act of drinking a certain way doesn’t make us loathe someone, it is deeper than that. And honestly, if it isn’t well, girl you need to check it before you wreck it. To attack person style might be one of the most petty, mean, and childish things one can do, yet we girls do it to one another ALL. DAY. LONG. (I feel like Tina Fey in Mean Girls right now … trust falls anyone?)

I’m ending this with a challenge for all of you … including myself. Yes, I’m challenging myself here. I want you all to compliment ONE girl tomorrow. It could be a hair style, an accessory, an article of clothing, an overall look … ANYTHING. Reach out, break out of your comfort zone, and sincerely hand out a compliment. Compliment a stranger, a co-worker, a friend, a relative, a hobo on the street … I don’t care. Just do it and see what happens. No … actually, tell me what happens! (Yes, I’m THAT nosey.) Comment to this post and tell me the reaction you get. Because I’m 85% sure that you will make that girls day. And not only that, but it will make YOU feel fabulous to see the positive reaction.

I’m telling you, life is rough and days are sometimes thoroughly painful and heinous. So one little kind act can go along way. Thank you to that fabulous woman yesterday for ripping me out of the unnecessary madness in my head. And good luck  to all of you and your complimenting!