So as you may know, I subscribe to a service called Birchbox. For $10/month recurring charge they send you a monthly box of sample size beauty products such as makeup, skincare, and hair care. I received my February 2013 Birchbox today and this is what I received: Read the rest of this entry
For the past six months or so, I’ve been an active part of the Pinterest community. I’ve found it to be a wonderful place full of DIY projects, outfit ideas, domestic tips and tricks, and yummy recipes. I mean, where else can you get weight loss tips and an Oreo buttercream cupcake recipe on the same site? Pure genius!! In my relatively short time on the site, I have amassed an array of boards that cover just about every topic you could think of, but lately I’ve been giving one of my boards the serious side-eye. …my Fitspo board.
For those of you who don’t know, “Fitspo” is short for Fitness Inspiration. It’s where people (mostly women and girls) repin, Instagram, or post pictures of beautifully chiselled, youthful, cellulite-free female bodies in minimal clothing as inspiration for exercise and healthy eating. Many of these images have inspirational quotes on them and come from fitness ads for athletic apparel companies. Not quite as controversial as it’s Thinspo predecessor, the Fitspo craze has been making more and more of a presence on the online photo-sharing community. A quick google search will yield over a million results for the term, ranging from sweaty women in sports bras running up a mountain or working out in the gym, to pictures of super-skinny models with phrases like “would you rather eat that bag of chips or look like this?”
These photos of scantily clad, rock-hard bodies are supposed to inspire me to work out and eat right. They’re supposed to motivate me to be a healthier person, but more and more lately, I’ve been feeling like they’ve pretty much just replaced music videos and Calvin Klein ads as the newest unattainable body image I’m supposed to aspire to. Read the rest of this entry
So for the past several months I’ve been subscribed to a service called “BirchBox”. It’s a subscription service that charges you $10/month and in exchange you receive a box every month with about 5 or 6 hair, skin, and makeup goodies! It’s a great way to try new products. Their products tend to mostly be makeup and skincare related, and they have some pretty good brands.
So today, while I’m laying on the couch sick and hating life, I get a pleasant surprise from the mailman, My Birchbox! So you know I couldn’t wait to share all the goodies with you all:
“I hate the idea of natural. For example, I prefer gardens to wild nature. I like to see the human touch. High heels are a complete invention – an extravagance. They’re far from natural, but it’s the impracticality that I adore. I prefer the useless to the useful, the sophisticated to the natural.”
No one will deny there are many drawbacks of growing older; weight gain, adverse effects of gravity, responsibilities, bills, bills, and more bills. The list could go on forever. But my ever-increasing age has recently brought forth the most heinous development. It’s so terrible, I have yet to utter it aloud until now. So here it goes…. I can no longer wear heels!!! *sobs uncontrollably*
For my whole adult life sky-high heels have been a staple in my wardrobe. Dare I say, my shoe game was on point! Despite being 5’10″ barefoot, I would always slide my feet in some fierce 3.5″-5″ heels and step out on the town like I was queen of the Amazons! I amassed a shoe collection that many women would envy, consisting of well over 100 pairs of beautiful, stylish, mile-high heels. Each one special and unique in its own way. I took pride in my collection. I doted over them, loved them, cared for them, and spent time and money arranging them in the most meticulous way, each in a clear plastic shoebox with their own personal portrait on the front.