I was sitting at my school’s coffee shop when it happened. I was typing away, mindlessly attempting to submit my chemistry homework on time, when I tried to run my fingers through my hair. And I stopped. Because I couldn’t move my hand through my long, ratted hair. There I was, in public, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and inadvertently forming dreadlocks. And while this realization may worry some people, I simply whipped out a hairband and piled my tangled blonde hair into an even more tangled bun. Why? Because I simply do not give a shit about what I look like on a daily basis.
Yes, it is finals time, so most people look a little more ratchet than normal. But unfortunately, I dress like this about twelve months out of the calendar year. I have never thought much of it. I went to private school my entire life, so I rolled up in the same uniform every day. I continued my routine as I entered high school, and was even #blessed enough to go to an all-girls high school. The lack of testosterone did not help my lazy appearance — hairy legs, haphazard hair styles, and oversized uniform sweatshirts became my go-to look. And makeup? Not even in my vocabulary.
When I came to college, I was fully prepared to continue this habit of mine. But that’s when I realized that real people, like my peers, actually put effort into their appearance. My new friends wore makeup every day, and my roommate (bless her heart) voluntarily wore dresses. And let me tell you — I gave it an effort. I womaned up, grabbed my debit card, and went on a blitzkrieg through the local mall. Armed with a new wardrobe, I was prepared to “wow” my classmates and professors with my fancy wardrobe and perfect face of makeup.
I made it through three days before I went back to my degenerate ways.
So here I am, currently wearing an oversized t-shirt and intentionally mismatching shorts. And I think I speak for all of us lazy ladies when I say this: please stop judging us for looking like hobos. We have only a few short years left before we enter into the real world of business suits, jeans, and *shudder* having to wear real bras. So, let us live in peace for now. Away with telling us that we look “tired” (read: like shit). No more should you say that we “look really nice today” when we somehow manage to put on mascara and run a brush through our hair. And for the love of God, please stop with the passive-aggressive question of “are you really wearing that?” Because yes, bitch, I am wearing leggings to meet with my advisor, and I happen to think that I look fly as hell.
So next time you see one of us special women trekking across campus in slippers and pajama pants, please think before you speak. And if you must make a remark, just know this: we don’t give a flying fuck. Why? Because we have more important things to do. Do we look like potatoes because we are lazy? Maybe. But we also have other things we’d rather do with our time. We’ve figured out that a few extra minutes of sleep is worth way more than any foundation or blush. Studying is immensely easier without the strangling grip of jeans attempting to saw your food baby in half. When we do put an effort into our appearance, it’s worth so much more because we look like goddesses and all eyes are on us. And running to beat somebody in the Starbucks line? Well, how are we supposed to do that if we are confined by the impracticality of a sundress?
So live free, my sweatpants-clad friends. Don’t let the haters get you down, but more importantly, don’t let real pants ruin your day..
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