Celebrities I Would Have a Full-Scale Meltdown Over If They Unfollowed Me

Maybe you know (or maybe you have a life) but Billie Eilish unfollowed YouTuber Tana Mongeau on Instagram and it ruined her existence day.

She even made a vlog about it.

I don’t know anything about Mongeau other than the fact that I think she got married to one of the Paul brothers (the one who didn’t take a video of a dead body). However, I respect the level of extra she is being over this unfollow.

Billie Eilish is a queen. Unfollowing Mongeau is like revoking her stamp of approval. She is officially no longer “cool” by music prodigy/baggy clothes wearing/green haired, William Eyelash’s standards.

Damn. That must feel cold ASF.

Luckily, there are really only a few celebs I would lose my lunch over if they unfollowed me.

***Please note, none of these people currently follow me (and probably never will!)****

Chrissy Teigen

Chrissy unfollowing me would be a deep personal burn I would never heal from. I feel like we like/talk about a lot of the same things??? Don’t reject me Chrissy! We have the same face shape and I use your pics for hair inspo!!!

Luna Stephens

She doesn’t have an Instagram because she’s 3 years old but IF SHE DID (or in the future) if she ever followed and then UNFOLLOWED me, I would throw myself off a cliff. She is my favorite celebrity baby!!!!

North West

This is a personal rejection I would not be able to face.

Rihanna

People would have to hide sharp objects from me if this happened.

Martha Stewart

Honestly, I would understand if she unfollowed me. She’s such a fucking queen. But if she unfollowed me it would disappoint my mom and my grandma a lot lol.

Diane Keaton

Genuinely love her social media presence and would cry if she and her multiple layers of black and white clothing and accessories clicked “unfollow.”

Harry Styles

Let’s be real, him FOLLOWING me would send me into a tailspin.

Jimmi Simpson

Hahahaaahahahahhahah

 

 

 

Hailey Bieber As Princess Diana Is My Fall Vision Board

These photos came out a week ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them since.

Yes, I’ve seen THOSE iconic photos of Princess Diana (bike shorts and oversized sweaters, baseball caps and riding boots) sporting around London, but they never impacted me the way THESE photos of Hailey Bieber (née Baldwin) do.

She looks at once both fresh and refined. I’m not much for pearl earrings but her sporty elegance speaks to the essence of bygone East Coast royalty, her long blond hair tousled in the wind like she’s god damned Caroline Bessette-Kennedy.

This look, this VIBE is the central feature of my fall vision board.

I want it all.

I want to live inside those photos. I want to be it. MAKE ME THAT!

But just as that photo of her wearing a soft red flush across her cheeks (and nose) while biting into a strawberry made me look more like someone with a bad sunburn than summer-cheeked Hailey when I tried it out, I’m sure I will look less like Lady Di and more like Lady Disaster.

HOWEVER I will soldier onward, living my truth (as I did all summer with my faux-sunburned face) because fall is a new beginning anD I CAN WEAR COWBOYS BOOTS WITH MY BLAZER IF I WANT TO.

Here is how I am preparing:

I ordered bike shorts from American Eagle. They’re on sale right now and in a bunch of colors.

Although I 100% plan on stealing any collegiate-looking crewneck sweater of my boyfriend’s, I also recently acquired a UCSB crewneck that I will be wearing/living in all of fall because it is also quite cozy-making. Did I go there? No! That is not the point!! My Chicago school’s sweaters are expensive as fuck, kind of ugly, and don’t have cute initials. No offense. Go Blue Demons!

In order to be sporty chic, I also need sneakers. I currently own one pair of dusty pink New Balance (and by dusty I mean caked in the dust of Beachwood/Runyon Canyons) and one pair of sky blue Vans. This will not do. So far I really like these Adidas that I made people vote for on the Lately Instagram and Hailey is actually wearing THESE in the pics, but I’m not crazy about them.

I really need to buy some taller socks. After being CYBER BULLIED by my friends for wearing white socks on Instagram, it will feel insanely validating to wear tall ones with pride. If I wanted to be really sporty I would go with these, but realistically I will go with something more like this because I love color options and polka dots are cute.

It is 100 degrees today in Los Angeles and I’ve been peeping fall blazers. Currently I have my eye on this one. Perfect for when I venture to a gorgeous apple orchard/horse show/cobble stone street or some shit back east

I’m on the lookout for cowboy boots but I still really haven’t cracked how to wear them without it feeling like a costume! Comment below if you have good advice! Also looking for riding boots.

I’ve been dying over this Poppy Lissiman bag that IMO looks refined as hell. (Also super in to this cutie shape.)

Jeans wise….Madewell all the way, you can’t convince me otherwise. I recently tried on Levi Wedgies or whatever the hell and they were terrible. As far as I’m concerned, there are no other jeans for me. I’m not saying this because I used to work there. Madewell has the best jeans, hands down and their fall fit will be out soon.

I’m pretty covered in the way of baseball caps and I think I’ll just stick with subtle little gold hoops in my ears.

ANYWAY my autumnal pumpkins, that’s all for now.

TTYL

See ya in the comments!

All my love,

Princess Lady Lily Baldwin Rose-Simpson-Styles

 

 

Unpopular Opinion: I Wish Summer Would End Already

Summer is less fun when you’re an adult. You’re supposed to ~relax~ but you don’t get a two month break to go make lanyards at sleep away camp or swim all day and eat popsicles, wrapped in wet towel, slowly soaking pool water into your living room carpet.

It’s kind of bullshit.

At best, you organize weekend trips with your friends that will bankrupt you, figure out a reasonable amount of PTO and WFH days to finagle into some sort of obligatory family trip you have to check your email from no matter what, get sun burns on rooftops because you’re too drunk to reapply sunscreen AND order multiple “cute” swimsuits from online that you will try on and return no less than three times.

This all while working 40+ hours a week and sweating profusely everywhere, all the time.

It’s August and while we’re admittedly in the decline of summer, I personally can’t wait for it to mercifully end.

Summer feels like it started in May. I can’t pinpoint an exact day but suddenly it was 100 degrees and I was wearing all white outfits and carrying straw bags and sunglasses from brunches to the beach. I had 47 margaritas in June alone and was sunburned 90% of July.

I’m so tired. I just want to wear a sweater and drink a dirty chai oat milk latte on a chilly morning in peace.

I’m so over #lovesummerhateverythingelse that I don’t want to catch so much as a whiff of coconut-y sunscreen or a lick of watermelon Chazstick (my preferred summer lip balm from Dedcool) until 2020.

It just seems easier to live my life not in summer mode. There’s less pressure to have fun, there’s no panicking about losing beach time, I don’t feel as obligated to eat salad and I don’t have to freak out about my life again until late November (Thanksgiving is a different kettle of fish).

I’m not saying I need piles of leaves and pumpkin patches (although HMU in October for all your fall festivities), all I’m asking for is the ability to at least think about enjoying a bowl of soup on my lunch break without getting heat stroke. And also maybe to find a nice flannel at a reasonable price to wear on weekends.

Labor day is only two weeks away and I know you bitches on your beach vacations will be crying over the side of your yachts once this hot girl summer officially comes to an end.

But I have an inbox full of pumpkin spice pitches and it’s making me want to retire my flip flops and put lotion on these sand-scuffed feet, slip on my fuzziest socks and work from home.

 

5 Things That Really Suck About Being A Writer

I am sitting here writing to you while I enjoy Whole Foods sushi and Cheetos. It is my “cheer up! meal,” not to be confused with my “cozy meal,” which is Trader Joe’s butternut squash ravioli with a lot of marinara sauce and Parmesan cheese.

And why might I need cheering up you ask? Because sometimes being a writer really fucking sucks.

Yeah, I could have chosen to become a scientist or a doctor or a lawyer or a ballerina, but I didn’t. I started doing the one (and seemingly only!) thing I know how to do semi-well as a profession about four years ago. Even though I love it deeply and do it daily, sometimes it makes me cry and feel like I would be better off supporting myself financially and emotionally by selling pictures of my feet online.

Jk my feet are too ugly for that.

5 THINGS THAT REALLY SUCK ABOUT BEING A WRITER:

#1 You’re Rarely Paid A Living Wage

If you can get a salaried job as a staff writer or on an editorial team, good for you!!! You’re probably barely making enough money to move out of your parent’s house and get your own apartment, but at least you’re juuuuuuust making it. But if you’re a freelancer or a contributor or anything of the sort– you’re fucked. The $25 an hour (for not guaranteed hours btw) or $20 per story you’re pitching to write and be paid, is not going to pay a single bill. You might as well spend it on tissues to sop up all your tears or to at least wipe the spit off your face.

#2 As A Freelancer You May Get Paid At Different Times– Or You Know, Never

Some freelance jobs are awesome. You send them an invoice and BAM, money is in your direct deposit 1-2 business days later. Most jobs will take a week to two weeks to pay you, which is not ideal but it’s to be expected. What’s not expected is when a job tells you that haha oh yeah! It’s going to take 4-weeks after the invoice is approved for you to receive payment. You might be spending 8 hours a day on the computer, eyes burning, and not see a dime for a whole fucking MONTH! And there are those places that don’t pay you at all. You’ve invoiced them. You’ve emailed them. You’ve had it written in the sky. The only next logical step is to call the police I guess idk.

#3 You Have To Prove Yourself With An Editing Test That You Don’t Get Paid For

RARELY, but it happens, someone will pay you for the work and effort you put into this long ass editing test you are sent to prove yourself as a writer/editor. It’s like giving away a free sample! Only the free sample is two 300 to 400 word pieces on current events in the entertainment news cycle plus 5 pitch ideas plus social and SEO headlines. It’s almost as if media doesn’t value the skills of a writer at all…. ;;;;; )

#4 If You’re Any Sort Of Lifestyle Writer, Straight Men Will Act Like Your Job Is Foofy*

No, I’m not out here curing cancer but it’s not like your sales job is saving the world either, Jake! Just because a work emergency for me means I need to access a computer and wifi ASAP to write about Kylie Jenner’s new hair doesn’t mean what I’m doing is stupid. People love this shit! I LOVE THIS SHIT! And yeah, this embargoed news piece about Olive Garden’s breadsticks is important. It’s my fucking job, Brandon. You can go ahead and take a long walk in your boat shoes right off a cliff.

*Foofy: meaning excessively frilly, fou fou, superfluous

#5 You Constantly Beat Yourself Up

Whether you’re trying to write the next great American novel or just trying to write about your new favorite skincare, it’s easy to get down on yourself. There are so many people writing, and it’s good and they’re incredible and those voices–especially the marginalized ones–need to be pushed to the front so that they are heard because they have something important to say. But what you have to say matters too. Even if it’s foofy. Somebody out there is reading it and smiling or sharing it with a friend. Even if it’s shit, your grandma loves it. Your sister is proud of you even though you missed a word or forgot a period or fucked up SO badly you had to delete it and start again. Yes, it’s an endless nightmare but you do it because for some reason it feeds your soul. Ugh. Put down the glass of wine and keep writing. You’ll strike genius someday.