Growing up, I was convinced that my life would one day mirror The Hills. While it hasn’t exactly turned out that way, everyone’s favorite faux reality show still taught me valuable lessons about life, love, friendship, and most importantly, avoiding the real world’s version of the infamous Justin Bobby.
L.C. had it all (except for Paris). She “worked” at Teen Vogue, the qualifications for which apparently involve staring blankly a la Kristen Stewart while complaining about your borderline dramatic love life. She went to the most glamorous events in L.A. and always had a boy waiting for her in the wings. While I love to hate Lauren Conrad because she’s perfection at its most basic level — and I do mean basic — I ultimately still wish my day-to-day life looked like her Instagram. Girlfriend is dating my childhood crush, chalks her hair rainbow without looking like a punk rocker gone wrong, and made a career out of being skinny. Now that’s a sorority girl icon.
I’m still searching for a career where someone throws beaucoup dollars my way for being my sassy self. Stripping or Real Housweife stardom are the only options I’ve come up with, but LC mastered it long ago. She’s the ultimate brand. She does a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing all at the same time. I can’t help it if a little bit of jealousy is setting in, but I know my day will come if I can just find my very own “Ste-phen” to brawl over. I did hook up with a Kappa Sig who looked exactly like him, though, which I like to think was a step in the right direction.
While sorority life isn’t Hollywood over-the-top, the boy troubles and frenemy drama are the same everywhere. So while she may be dating my dream man, I can’t hold it against her, because at the end of the day, she helped me realize that while boys (and unfortunately friends), come and go, the people that are always there for you are the ones who really matter.
Here are my favorite pieces of advice from the ladies of The Hills:
Why can’t boys read our minds? Is that really too much too ask? Telepathy would make things so much easier, though reading their minds might be disgusting. Cross-gender ESP would guarantee that we wouldn’t have to send a text to half our pledge class to have it deconstructed and deciphered.
While you may not have a semi-successful clothing line at a dirt cheap chain store, a tweenybopper book deal someone ghosted your way, and a smoking hot boyfriend who was once a D-list celebrity, at least you’re not dating Spencer Pratt. No matter who your personal life-destroying Justin Bobby is, if he doesn’t worship crystals and expect you to be made from more plastic than a Barbie doll, you’re golden. Even if he’s rocking those crazy eyes (which he more than likely is), there’s no way his crazy rivals the crazy that is Speidi. Plus, the moral of the story of The Hills is that friendships come before boys every single time.