She makes me sick. But I love her, though.
Someone asked me if I ever look up people from my past just to see how they’re doing/what they’re up to/if there’s any chance of rekindling friendships.
I thought about it for 0.133 seconds and realized that they’re in my past for a reason.
So instead of searching social media for a glimpse of who knows what, I keep looking to the future, with nothing but well wishes for those from years/months/days/seconds past.
Amen.
Even in the worst of times, we can find something to smile about.
And I totally count on you for that.
I am on seven days a week—clothes, hair, and makeup. Here and there I’ll take breaks, but today is not one of those days.
So how do you pull it together when you rather continue dreaming about some crazy Tyler Perry-esque version of Shaka Zulu (no joke, that was my last dream)?
Just do it. The hair and makeup teams are too busy to turn you into a Kabuki geisha so get with it. No need to let the world know you feel (and rather look) like Daria.
Oh, if only I cared so much. It’s rather sick, actually. A fashion designer who cares more about the appearances of others than her own.
To be a child again, careless and free, up watching Saturday morning cartoons.
This week, my younger brother was the victim of a hate crime. A friend of mine also learned this week that they have to fight a grave illness.
With all of the ugly in the world, today I just want to go back to a time in my life when my version of stress came from choosing between a Barbie or a Rainbow Brite tea set.
Today I long for silence—just me and Jem and the Holograms.
PREACH.
The Muse: so fine she gets flowers from secret admirers and chased down by celebrities in the streets of Manhattan (true story).
While there is much beauty in the I’m glamorous while I smell my baby, who is naturally the scent of cotton candy and jellybeans pics, I want to see the real pics of these celebs and their keeids.
Show me mama in no makeup and dirty scrunchie on her head with the dried up milk and baby poop on her dingy Hypercolor t-shirt from 1991.
Show me mama right before her breakdown because all her late-night partying has turned into mid-afternoon play dates with people who know no other subjects in life to discuss other than their Pooder’s every move and the tunes on Radio Disney.
Until you show me that, you need more people.
Editor Ciara Vincent goes for long, layered locks while out-and-about in Chelsea in New York City.
The Muse’s latest shopping adventure. She always finds the best stuff.
