gracie

I couldn't fall asleep last night and ended up watching style network and all those shows that make someone feel really terrible about how they look then do a makeover and make them feel fabulous for a night.

I couldn't turn it off. I was engrossed in watching people pick apart someone else detail by detail, in some cases, to the point of making her cry in an effort to make her feel beautiful. Whaaaaaaat?

I slowly began to panic.

I don't accessorize and even if I did, I'm convinced I'd be so last season.

I don't have a favorite vintage shop or two from which I find trendy and gorgeous pieces to mix and match with my base wardrobe creating outfits on the fly for any occasion.

I don't catergorize outfits, make up or shoes.

Does my hair color complement my complexion? What about the cut? Are my eyebrows the right shape? Oh christ I'm a walking disaster!

What do you mean my clunky Doc Martens don't look cute with everything?

Over and over again, half hour by half hour I watched steadily as people like me were enlightened and transformed.

At midnight I shut the TV off and froze, feeling pretty awful about myself and my sense of style, or lack thereof. As I sat there in the quiet darkness I began going through my closet in my head really wondering if I look like a train wreck every single day.

I looked down at my feet and there was my cat, Allie, and she blinked and meowed at me to pick her up. I scooped her up and proceeded past the mirror in my living room on the way to my bed and took notice of myself.

Messy, unbrushed hair, smeared eyeliner from rubbing my tired eyes and forgetting I hadn't washed my face, in Mike's pajama bottoms that are far too big for me.

Juggling vanity and self-criticism is a surefire way to destroy yourself.