Animal claws

Happy Tuesday readers.

As I near 30 there are certain things that I am not at liberty to do with my “look”- although I always want to and I often feel stifled by age.

Here’s the thing- I look young. So now, at the cusp of becoming a full fledged career lady I cannot afford the opportunities I once had for blue hair, T-shirts as dresses and nose rings. I always must dress and conduct myself as if I could run into my boss at any time. Would I want her or a co-worker to see me in a hooker dress? No, no thank you.

And, not only that but I have to compensate for my youthful appearance by dressing slightly older as to reinforce that I am indeed above the age of 20 and capable of taking on “adult” responsibilities..

As such it becomes increasingly difficult for me to engage in youthful self expression.

Sure, I could dye my hair still- but the reality is that I only have a precious few years left with my real hair color anyways before I start springing greys so I cling to my real hair color like a desperate girl clings to her less than stellar man, I guess I could funkify my closet but my predisposition for T shirts that say Fuck You on them just don’t seem ok and I am unwilling to jump on the neon trend. I could pierce a hidden part of my body except for that the mere idea of it makes me barf in my mouth and after that I am left with wearing a funky purse or a retro pair of sunglasses. The end.

So of course, given this over a quarter century conundrum, I find myself constantly observing what other people who are in my shoes do and wear. When I see a good look, I make mental note and have since bought a nice hat- excitement all the way in my world, and a pair of…. Get ready for it…. Khaki Bermuda shorts (seriously, I know they sound super boring- like you may even be half asleep right now as a result of reading this- but they are pretty cool, I think. Ug what do I even know?)

So last week on the elevator I was riding down with a girl who I work with whose style I particularly like. She is pretty funky for a professional (ummmm, I suddenly have this gut wrenching feeling that my over-use of “funky” has made the word seem as cool as when my parents call weed “grass”. I die)

So. Girl. Elevator.

She is holding a Starucks and I look at her nails (I am OBSESSED with nail polish- doing my nails is like a good dose of therapy- of what kind I am not sure, but still) and they are leopard print metallic glitter.

Now, I should preface this all by mentioning that secretly within my heart of hearts, I fucking love animal prints. I realize that this places me with teenage whores and women over 70 who live in Florida- I don’t care. I love them and the tackier, the better. When they came out with pink leopard print I lost my freaking mind.

There was even a time where, and dont judge me harshly please, I had leopard print seat covers, wheel covers and dice adorning my 15 year old blue Volvo. Was it the classiest car on the road? I would say so. I really would. The geriatric centers had women pressed to their windows while I dove by blaring Bette Midler (I really do love her too- just let me retire now!)

Ok, and now to the much forgotten about point of this blog- a cheers to Sally Hansen’s nail art things which you can buy (for 9.99 on sale at Shoppers)in a variety of colors and prints- including zebra, said leopard and lace, and wicked glitters. You peel them off their backings, stick them on your nails and they say on for 10 days (or more according to the original inspiration to my nails who came by today to see mine!)

I even saw a girl wearing them on her toes- which looked so cute and then I tired to do it except my toenails are mini mutants and are not conducive to any kind of polish being so freakishly small….

So go out ladies, buy this shit- they are so fun and will provide you with momentary distraction from your desires to go back to the fire engine red hair you sported before your ass got dimples.