Life as a true adult, I can describe it with one word: overwhelming. At any given moment, even in the quiet hours past 2 am, you could wake me up and I would, half-asleep mumble through an entire reel of things I have to do, but haven’t. Being a human comes with so many responsibilities and I for am one, am always half drowning in a TO-DO list. Laundry is a huge factor of anxiety, I cannot keep up. The bills, who knew that being financially dependent would mostly involve frequent painful glimpses at direct debit withdrawals? I’ve been called consistently a flake because there is so many tasks, events, social gatherings I absolutely intend on attending but work comes first and after that, well between the gym and ensuring my house doesn’t turn into a hovel, there is barely time to sleep, let alone meet someone I came across at a party 3 months ago for coffee. The bloggers who go out for lengthy brunches everyday confuse me, girl, what about your dirty socks and the electricity bill? How do you do so little and still manage a daily 25 euro splurge on eggs benedict as well as all the other infinite but accumulative expenses that come with existing in an urban environment? Let me in on the secret, please? If there are two powers misrepresented online they would surely be: the female body and money. And let me tell you, both my boobs and bank accounts are uneven, certainly not living up to the vague, impossible portrayals constantly fed to me via the internet. It’s enough to make me want to rip off the underwire and join a commune, but I don’t because surprisingly, I love my job and the very independent lifestyle I wrestle from it, despite the many responsibilities.
I read an article online yesterday that fuelled me with both determination and anxiety; it critqued social media as a means of projeting an avatar of the person we wish we were, rather than who we are in reality. Basically, every terrible aspect of my profession summarized in one sentence. I never want to do that. I want what I share here to reflect exactly who I am in real life, perhaps with the minor improvements of less messy hair and less swearing. I want to close the distance I see gaping between influencers and readers. I like my vintage, very much second hand designer pieces as much as I love the likes of Primark, I will always wear both, I will always speak my truths and regardless of how tempting, I will not airbrush my skin. I just want to be your friend, not a woman you vaguely hashtag as ‘goals’ in your head. I am far from that, I kiss the wrong people, last month Vodafone suspended my mobile line because I procrasinated on paying my 400 euro bill (who the fuck runs up a bill that high and then avoids paying?!) and I am sure if you saw my cave of a laundry room, you’d absolutely question my sanity. And so with that said, I am fiercely opening up even more than before, starting yesterday with my very clumsy love confusions and today with an outfit very illustrative of what I wear so often offline: baggy clothes at pyjama level comfort but still chic. Always haphazardly accessorized with oversized earrings, a half hearted attempt at ‘a hairstyle’ and flat shoes to facilitate the sprint that comes with spontaneously meeting a friend for wine: because life as an adult is overwhelming and difficult: sometimes we require loose clothes and loose conversation over booze as a repose from it all. I want to conclude with this, go easy on yourself, wear baggier clothes sometimes, don’t worry too much about the bills and never underestimate the power of a friend and a glass of wine.