As someone who has been known for the way they've been dressed, it's almost OK for me to wear New Balances and sweat pants. I'm not necessarily moulding trends, but it's OK if I'm not adhering to them.
I feel like alternative piercings in the ear is this untapped way to festoon yourself. Not many people understand this, but it hurts so good. It's like getting dental work done. It hurts in the right way.
I got a C in art when I was in 11th grade. That it is even possible to come out of a high school art class with a C is wondrous, especially considering the creative license we were encouraged to use to, for lack of a better axiom, color outside the lines.
I think that when I started Man Repeller, the Internet was still hungry for authentic content from girls that weren't actresses or supermodels and were just relatable girls who had opinions and outfit ideas, and they weren't always good, but at least they were original.
I gained this new sense of control over my love life because when I called myself a 'man repeller,' you assumed that being single is my choice. I'm man-repelling because that's how I want to dress. I'm not single because no men like me. I'm single because I choose fashion over a relationship.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not against makeup. If I could manage looking like 'me' in a way that also read as tastefully, invisibly airbrushed, I'd sign up for that faster than you could choose a filter to do it for me.
What a woman does or does not do to her face is personal. And as with most other things, makeup or a lack thereof can serve as either a prison or a fortress commanded by the mind: you can become a slave to it, or it can set you free.
I understand that there are thick, dark circles under my eyes. I have grown to appreciate them. I have noticed that my nose grows a little hookier on a near-monthly basis. That's fine. I know there are wrinkles ready to stake their claim as full time residents on my forehead any moment now. My dad has those, too, and I find that endearing.
People always ask me how I muster the strength to be so open about things, and I explain to them that I took the Myers-Briggs test, like, four times, and every single time, I ranked an 87 percent extrovert, so it would probably take more strength for me to shut up.
It seems inevitable, if unfair, that when a woman is vying for a prominent position in office, her outfit choices will be analyzed to a degree considerably higher than those of her male counterpart by simple existence of gender stereotypes.