Holy hell, yes. I remember vividly the firs time this same realization hit me. I was unemployed, perpetually heartbroken, wadding my hair up in a bun, and throwing on whatever, and ran out to the one convenience store with the specific ATM I could use to get my unemployment cash from. (Arizona was weird) Wasn’t thinking or caring about anyone or anything, least of all myself, locked in a perpetual “life is shit” view. Got back in my car and looked up to see the prettiest redheaded boy come out of the same store. My jaw dropped, mouth agape the entire time I watched him walk to the Beamer next to me and get in it. And that’s when it hit me — what the hell am I doing? What the hell am I WEARING? How trashed is the inside of my car? Who is the person who owns these clothes? WHEN DID I STOP CARING? Not just about what a hot guy might think of me, but about MYSELF? REVAMP!

My college roommates would give me shit for getting “dressed up” to go to the grocery store. Just because I don’t want to look like a slob or roll in in my PJ’s makes me “dressed up”? And girls at school WOULD do go to class in their jammies… with hair and make-up fully done and heels.

I’ve never agreed with the slob culture. “I’m just running to the store, I don’t care what people think. If they don’t like it, don’t look at me.” It’s not about other people, it’s about self-respect and self-love and presenting your best self for YOU.

Though I will say, I live in a small celebrity get-away town, and if I really want to run into Jason Segel or Anthony Hopkins or Malcolm McDowell at my local Vons, all I have to do it show up looking like crap. Guaranteed to run into a celeb. Hahaha

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Weird Girl, thrift store owl collector, heartbreaker, lush, aspiring adult. IG: DocJohnnyFever nikimarinis@gmail.com

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