I adore cosmetics. Ironically enough, however, I’ve been in an anti-makeup phase as of late (then again, as much as I adore a red lip or smoky eye, those are reserved specifically and exclusively for nights out). C’est la vie; I can be quite fickle with trivial things.
Post-Pilates
But for the public’s sake (and my own pride, in the interest of full disclosure), I’ve mustered just enough tolerance to post on my good side. Rocking the unintentionally disheveled waves post-pilates—another work of irony: in today’s society, there is a technique to manifesting bed-head/after-sex hair. And when one must specify whether it’s real bedhair or not… all that can be said is that the fashion industry will never be understood.
If I so wished to achieve this look, though, the deed could be done with my brand new curling iron. Which I adore. So much so that I don’t mind that a curling iron takes up much-needed desk space amongst my piles of notes and black ball point pens. Besides, its pretty, soft gold barrel (aesthetics, mes chéries, is nearly everything to me), I say without bias that a 1-1/4″ is the only width anyone should ever own. Not too big, not too small, but just right, as Goldilocks would say. However did you think she achieved such lush curls?
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