My Personal Hell: Crop Tops

CaptureHmm … where do I begin.

I think we can all agree that this summer has been nothing but a big ol’ pain in the ass. Heat wave after heat wave, ridiculous storms that come out of nowhere, always looking like a sweaty hot mess … I’ve had just about enough. And when I thought my irritation levels couldn’t possibly get any higher … crop tops came into my life. Literally, every cute top I’ve seen this summer is a damn crop top. It is such a shirt tease. You see it folded and get all bright-eyed like, “yes … perfect color, perfect pattern, perfect everything … SHIRT HEAVEN ::::twirling around with said shirt in hand::::!” Only to pick it up and start noticing half the fabric is gone … which makes you want to punt the sad excuse of fabric across the room.

Apparently everybody’s doing it, though. I saw Jennifer Lawrence wearing a tribal print crop top … so I went out and bought a tribal print crop top (if you get that reference, I officially adore you) … and then I put on said crop top and realized, holy shit, self … you don’t have a trainer, NOR do you work out … henceforth you have NO right to be wearing this.

:::::And scene::::

No seriously … whomever said crop tops are a “thing” this season should get a serious talking to. Because, in my eyes, the only people who can appropriately and righteously rock them are A. teeny boppers, tweens, teens, you know … “kids” these days and B. insanely ripped individuals who live for working out and consider their bodies a temple. For example I just opened the door to my temple for a garlic knot … therefore I do not fall into that category. We all make choices, people.

Don’t get me wrong, I think they look really good … on certain people. I especially love it when only about 3 inches of flesh above your belly button is exposed and the rest is covered up by said crop top and a high-waisted skirt. Like J. Law, for example, looked fantastic in a style like this at Comic-Con. But J. Law, unlike 95.4% of the American public, basically gets paid bazillions of dollars to look hot … and that properly involves a trainer.

So let me give you a little sneak peek into my brain if I was forced to wear one of these torture devices, ahem:

1. I would be freaking out that I was overly exposed. I know, it is like 3 inches of my stomach … not like my tas are out and about, but still for a girl like myself who fancies layers and the “Mary Kate Olsen look” … it would feel like I was wearing a bikini at the grocery store. I’m not a nun … but nun-ish qualities sure do come out of me when I talk crop tops.

2. Fat rolls. The minute my ass sits down, they will surface … and this is what would be happening in my head: “OMG I need to suck in my stomach. OMG is he looking at my fat roll … is my fat roll looking at him?! Okay sucking in my stomach … sucking … it … in. UGH, shit. I can’t breathe … and now I can’t talk. Maybe I’ll just smile and nod. Okay, screw it I’ll just stand up. But will people question me standing because of my fat roll?! Maybe if I sit perfectly still and slouch a little over to the right … no one will notice my fat roll. AH HA! I have it, I’ll cross my arms … yeah crossing my arms is the trick. AHHHHHH GET ME OUT OF THIS CROP TOP HELL.” ::::::And scene:::::

3. Phantom fabric syndrome. I feel as if I would be constantly pulling the crop top down, thinking I’m having some sort of weird wardrobe malfunction, when alas, I decided to intentionally expose my stomach … boom, phantom fabric syndrome.
So people, if you have cut, tan abs and not spray tanned ones like some people … go to the land of crop tops and be free. Me personally, and I’m going to go ahead and speak for every woman who enjoys carbs and garlic knots as much as me, think crop tops need to do a pencil dive back to the 80’s or something.

Hangover Chic

We all have had those Saturday mornings when we wake up and want to die. It isn’t because we’ve worked too hard the night before or have the flu, it is because we hit the bottle too hard. Blinking your eyes open for the first time and seeing the first rays of light feel like shards of glass going into your retinas and contemplating blowing up the sun feels like heaven. Your body aches for no apparent reason, and as much as I despise this tortuously catchy song … Katy Perry said it right, you smell like a mini bar.

Saturdays and Sundays are meant for errand running, picnics, meeting up with old friends, grocery shopping and basically just functioning like a normal person. It is just a shame that Friday nights and Saturday nights are meant for mingling in bars, taking shots and acting a fool.

So, if you are like me and no matter how much you try, you can not scrub the “hangover death” look off your face, here is how you can turn yourself from a hot mess into a functionally chic hot mess.

1. Wash Your Damn Face: The first step to curing a hangover is washing your face. It is refreshing, and when those droplets of ice-cold water hit your skin, it is like sending a message to your body that makes it say, “holy shit, I’m alive again … and what the hell did you do to me the night before?!” Hello clean slate to work with! It is not cute, flattering, or anywhere near attractive to walk out in public with left over eye liner on from the night before and black circles under your eyes from mascara. Heroin chic is one thing, but looking like Ke$ha … NEVER a good thing.

2. Moisturize For The Love of Christ: Your poison of choice the night before, literally sucked you dry of any hydration you had in your skin. So the minute you step out of the shower, put as much lotion on your body as possibly … ESPECIALLY on your face. It will give you an instantaneous glow and will make you look more like a human again and less like the crypt keeper. (Feel free to take a time out after this and lay down … this is all a lot of work for a hung over sloth, I know.)

3. The More The Make Up … The More Hooker-esque You Look: Sometimes people feel the need to cover up a hangover with lots of foundation, concealer, blush and whatever other nonsense you fancy. No matter what you do, you’re going to look ghostly because your body DESPISES you right now and is being spiteful. My weapon of choice is something called Erase Paste by Benefit. A little dab under the eyes and around some blemishes and you look brighter and well rested. It seriously is a God sent, invest IMMEDIATELY. Top it off with some minimal bronzer or blush, mascara and some lip gloss. Even though your eyes still say, “I want to die,” your face doesn’t have to.

4. Right Now, It Is Okay To Look Like An Olsen Twin: Okay, so you are probably ready to forge into the outside world and start running your errands. For the love of God, do not walk outside in sweatpants, a hoodie, your hair slicked back with a headband and flip-flops. This is only acceptable when you are in college and quite frankly, jazzing up the look a bit will make you feel better. Think “what would Mary Kate Olsen do,” and go for a more layered, baggy look. Throw on a pair of skinny jeans, an oversized t-shirt, a cardigan, a scarf, gladiator sandals and throw your hair up in a tasteful bun or pony tail. This gives the illusion that you are fashion forward, but still, underneath all of those baggy clothes … remain and hot hung over mess.

5. The Most Important Factor, The Oversized Sunglasses: I hope you are taking notes, because right now, this is the end all be all accessory for being hung over. Your eyes tell everything, whether you are happy, sad, melancholy, scared … and even … hung over. But that glazed over, slits for eyes look can be easily hidden by a pair of obnoxiously huge and obnoxiously dark sunglasses. I have a specific pair which I call my “hangover shades” because they, A. Hide the sunshine quite well, B. Allow me to walk out in public and not scare innocent strangers on the street. Don’t think I’m giving you the green light to wear them in stores and walk around like a prima donna, because I’m not. Seriously, leave the Ray Bans, Aviators and all of those other cute and trendy sunglasses behind. Go big … or … well … stay in bed and watch Kardashian marathons.

Some of this may seem like common knowledge, I know, but really, there is no excuse walking out into the universe after a long night of drinking and look like a disaster area … unless you are in a diner … then I think it is fair game. We can talk about the death feeling and laugh about the past night’s events … but let’s not show our true hung over colors through college sweat shirts, old sweatpants and hair bands. We are better than this, ladies.