Our Girlo offers her wisdom on everything from work to foundation.
It’s summer. It’s also the month of my birth, and this year I’ve told everyone I don’t want to celebrate it but will be fuming if I come into work on the day and my desk isn’t decorated. If my girlos don’t post 60 photos of me on their stories there will be absolute murder!
Another year older and not a bit wiser, Huns. My twenties are flashing before my eyes. Everything is starting to sag… my eye bags, my non-existent tits. I even think my flaps are starting to droop.
My waist is refusing to get smaller and my love life is still a f*cking shit show but instead of moaning about all the things I could have, should have or would have done with my life if I had the money to (or you know, hadn’t drank and ate all of my money) I thought I’d remind myself of all the things I’ve learned in my 20-something years here on this planet.
Water is your bestie
Skin in bits… drink some water. Cramps ruining your life… have a bath. Have one of them hangovers were your brain feels like it’s too small for your head… a pint of water that will probably come straight back up and out your nose is the only answer.
Get the right foundation
NW30 is too orange for your face, hun… for ANYONE’S FACE. I swore by MAC from 18-22, and this shade did nothing for me except make me look a bit jaundiced all the time. Maura on Love Island suffered the same plight.
Stay away from horrible bosses
I’ve worked for the biggest c u next Tuesday on planet – that doesn’t even cover it. She made my life hell to the point I would be riddled with dread pulling into the carpark, like I was gonna projectile puke all over my lanyard. And I put up with a lot of shit because I had rent to pay, roots to dye and acrylics to be refilled. But life is too short to spend 40 hours a week with a lump in your throat, Huns.
Refuse friend requests
You don’t owe the people who follow you online anything. Unless they are funding the life you’re living, you don’t need to give strangers on the internet daily updates about what’s going on in your life, even when they’re tweeting and mailing ya telling you that you do. In the words of our Royal Highness Kim Kardashian West, CAN I LIVE?!
Trust your gut
It’s not just something to complain about when your clothes don’t fit after eating absolute shite for three months. If you meet someone, regardless of gender, and get that ‘You’re a piece of shit’ feeling in your stomach LISTEN TO IT. Don’t let your Huns talk you into believing you’ve just met too many fuckboys or that you took yer one up wrong when she insulted the shit out of you. If your stomach tells you someone’s an arsehole then they are an arsehole.
And last but not least, no Hun is getting as much dick as you think they are. I mean they are probably getting more than me, which wouldn’t take much, but they aren’t getting horsed out of it all day every day… twice a week MAX.
I plan on ringing in this year like I do every other year… Hungover to bits with last night’s Charlie’s repeating on me something terrible while I reach for my remote to take the batteries out and put them into my vibrator. Stay Stunnin’ Huns.