With a little willpower and maybe a snake, it can be done!
You’re fully aware that there is no production team in your bathroom, but you cannot resist — you are pretending that you’re starring in your own Vogue “Beauty Secrets” YouTube video while you get ready for your Zoom calls.
“Now this stuff is on the pricey side, but it is li-tuh-ruh-lee my holy grail, you guys,” you say into the mirror as you hold up your Neutrogena face lotion that is not a $95 tub of Crème de la Mer moisturizer. Your partner knocks on the door, “Babe, were you talking to me?”
“No!” you call back. “I’m just slowly and quietly rapping Megan’s verse on Ariana’s song about 69'ing.”
We’ve all been there, ladies, and let’s be real — you don’t have an immaculate, white-marbled bathroom, and you sure don’t have any secrets. Getting ready in the morning would be a lot more efficient if you weren’t bound to the charade that you’re someone chic enough to have been asked by Vogue to share your beauty routine. Here are some tips on how to break free from the shackles of pretending to be Hailee, Hailey, Bebe or Gigi.
Put a drop of capsaicin and a drop of lavender oil on your tongue when you get out of the shower. The capsaicin will make it impossible for you to focus on narrating your mustache maintenance, and the lavender will help you start your morning with a bit of calm.
Instead of looking into the mirror and pretending it’s an HD camera, focus instead on the glaring crack on the side of your mirror. Let the crack bring you back down to Earth and away from your Vogue fantasy. If that doesn’t work, just keep saying the word “crack.”
You know what? Fuck it. Challenge yourself by going live on Insta while you put on your Glossier skin tint. When you notice that your high school bully has tuned in and is commenting that you’re “so brave” for showing your “real skin,” abruptly throw your phone in the toilet. Fish it out, then prepare a bag of rice. Ask your partner to borrow their phone so that you can post a story that reads: “Not going to let anyone (especially Brinleigh S) dull my sparkle. HI BRINLEIGH, UR A BICHH.”
Put your parents on speakerphone so you can listen to them talk about the magical rat that has been organizing their shed every evening. It’s hard to peel off a skin-clarifying matcha face mask in one perfect piece when you’re genuinely wondering, wtf are my parents talking about?
Unleash a mildly venomous snake in your bathroom.
Light your knockoff vagina candle and pray to Hecate to grant you willpower strong enough to defeat your own vanity. When she grants your request, ask for more powers — like the power to overcome your fear of snakes so you can wrangle the one that is currently slithering across your sink.
Get into a fight with your cat the night before over the last slice of pizza. Let her administer just a few scratches to your face so that you have no desire to apply your serums and massage your jawline with a rose quartz gua sha tool. Do you need to go to urgent care? Eh, just wait it out. You’re probably fine.
Remind yourself that you are not a famous actress, singer, songwriter, model, conservationist, spoken word poet slash SoulCycle instructor, non-denominational spiritual guru, sexy ceramicist, goat cheese connoisseur, or social media star who learned all of their beauty tips from professional makeup artists and skincare specialists and are just regurgitating all of that information using sponsored products into a carefully edited video.
That’s it! Now you’re ready to get ready. You don’t have time to finish your makeup or even to make a cup of coffee. It’s all good though. There’s a snake perched seductively on your shoulders — no one will be looking at your face.
Originally published in Lady Pieces