WHAT I’M WEARING: OASIS LACE COMPACT TOP, OASIS LACE COMPACT SKIRT, MINI
RED CHANEL BAG, DIOR SUNGLASSES & PUBLIC DESIRE AUGUST STILETTO SANDALS
For two years, 25 and 26 of my twenties to be precise, I gave up on going out. I guess I had overdosed on nightlife living in Paris and I probably needed that time to grow up a little, save my cash and live without the many delicious distractions of Friday and Saturday nights. I suppose now at 27, I live a fairly ‘grown up’ life; I live alone, financially independent with a healthy income, the majority of which I drop into a savings account. I juice everyday, egg whites for dinner, a fridge full of disgustingly expensive organic seeds and you all know what a driving force the gym is for me. My pet is the most pampered little brat you could ever meet. I guess, and I say this with a sigh too, I am indeed an adult. Most of my friends are lightyears ahead of me, with marriages or at least a boyfriend under the same roof and with plans for kids along the way. And while my habits could be defined as ‘mature’, I myself still feel like a total kid. And so at 27, 9 months into Barcelona life, I fell back in love with going out. From the loud music at home, sitting cross legged on the floor curling my hair to the first bar to the fourth and finally, the end of the night in bed usually spent facetiming friends in different time zones because its too late to call anyone in Europe. I am absolutely in love with acting 24 again as soon as the weekend hits.
Now, I feel we as milennials face incredible pressure in our mid twenties to be ‘grown up’, so often it feels like a competition, whoever lives the dullest, most mature life essentially, wins. And let me tell you, I’ve never ever come first in that race. I cannot even count how many times I’ve been asked questions such as these: Do you bake on the weekends? Is there a ring on your finger? Do you buy organic laundry detergent? Can you afford a cleaner yet? We set up all these ridiculous criteria to assert our adulthood and it’s so boring. Now, I do lots of ‘adult’ things but my career and health aside, most of the decisions I make are absolutely and hilariously questionable, in that my parents would probably frown and ask ‘really, Audrey?’ You see, I stepped out of the race, I am no longer striving for society’s adult defined life. Quite the opposite actually, as I inch closer to 30, I am tugging at my younger years as hard as I can. I work hard but on the weekends I have incredible fun. No I don’t bake, I’m not married, hell I don’t even have a boyfriend. I buy the cheapest laundry detergent at the supermarket and while I’d like a cleaner, the pursuit of finding one sounds quite dull so I don’t. Youth is such a marvellous, exciting thing – I have no idea while we all feel so compelled to banish it away. And so I’ll let this party appropriate ensemble play tribute to the simple fact that I’m not willing to grow up entirely yet. Only 3 days until the weekend when I can act 24 again. Don’t try too hard to grow up, sadly time will do that for you and too quickly too -so stop it, slow down.
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