[Note (and then I swear, I’ll get down to business): I just noticed that the acronym for my blog is HOAR. Phonetically, that shit’s just funny.]
And now, your favorite blogging HOAR brings you: How to Look Your Best Without Pricey Tools or Gimmicks (And Dude, I Swear, This is Not Going to Become a How-To Blog For Women).
I was just in the shower stroking my newly sprung neck pimple when I thought about all the little physical flaws we obsess about daily. They are so silly and irrelevant and reflect nothing of the unique energies that define us as individuals. It just so happens that that defining energy or “spirit” is held within a container that is fragile and susceptible to the elements.
And by elements I mean things like lack of sleep. And Doritos.
Our bodies are as durable as cardboard boxes in the basement of a flooded house. The rescue mission (and goal of this post) is to salvage the hidden gems from the wreck of the flood; to find and reclaim, say, your nan’s porcelain unicorn collection (that is, your beautiful spirit) from the soggy, sagging cardboard box (that is, your soggy, sagging body).
I really need to work harder on my inspirational metaphors.
Despite aaaaallll o’ dis (I’m pursing my lips, rocking my head side to side and tracing my pointed finger around the perimeter of my body), I’m far from perfect. I break out. I bloat. I forget to shave my legs. I stroke my neck pimples and blog about it. I sometimes actually cut people next to me with the dusty, razor-sharp shale that is my winterized foot skin. But at a young age, I learned the importance of accepting what your working with and tweaking it, ever so gingerly, to more accurately represent your inner truth. I was maybe ten-years old when an old school-friend of mom’s ran into mom and me at the Food Center (Country Road, Corner Brook, Newfoundland). Old-School-Friend genuinely beamed when her eyes met mine and she sweetly asked mom “is this your handsome son?”.
It’s a bit of a digression but in case you’re curious, I ran, devastated, from the store to wait for mom in the car. And in my flustered state, in an attempt to bury my face in my winter coat, I caught most of my neck flesh in the zipper. I’ve had issues with anything touching the front of my neck ever since…
The point is, I did not feel like mom’s handsome son. Despite my buzz cut and Pedro-stache, I felt like a beautiful, smart girl. And I decided then and there that, despite physical imperfections, I could make the world see me as just that.
So here are my top five (5) go-to secrets for concealing your outer flaws so your awareness of them doesn’t inhibit the free-flow of your inner beauty.
1. Stubborn Under-eye Circles
Between the dry prairie weather and regularly falling asleep with my contact lenses in, I often wake up looking like I’m peering out from behind two mini scrotal sacks. Sure, if you’re like me, you have “under-eye cream” (gathering dust in your Rubbermaid-brand coffee table alongside old bank statements and a cracked copy of Celine Dion’s “Falling Into You”). But sometimes you find yourself just too busy (drunk) to think of applying these treatments before bed. So why not just furiously pinch the “apples” of your cheeks? The benefit is two-fold: 1. You’ll have sweet, rosy cheeks. 2. If enough force is applied, your face flesh will swell enough to meet or surpass your fat eye-sacks, creating an even, uniform surface. Win-win.
2. Swollen Face
During certain times of the month, hormones fluctuate and your face expands. It’s normal. And the solution is simple: wear your hair as big as possible. Tease that shit. Sure, you run the risk of looking like Erin Brockovich having an allergic reaction to shellfish. But with practice, you’ll find that perfect ratio of hair-halo to moon-face. Size is relative.
3. The Arm-Pit Boob
Look around you. We’re all rockin’ ‘em. I say, flap on, sister/brother!
Also, try standing with your hands on your hips.
4. Camel toe / Moose knuckles
Before going into a public arena, tug furiously at the crotch-region of your pants to provide space for movement. Retreat to the restroom at scheduled intervals to repeat. Also, stand with feet hip-width apart, toes turned in to open up inner thigh space. Long shirts are also magical.
Sip it. But not too much. No one likes a sloppy drunk so please don’t go there. Going there cancels out all the skillful pinching, teasing and crotch-tugging you’ve perfected thus far. But I beseech you, readers, to practice like it’s your life’s purpose finding the perfect harmony that is sober-buzzitude. You’ll have the unstoppable confidence that only emanates when you are true to your inner spirit (and imbibed with three to five ounces of ethanol), yet the common sense to chew gum when close-talking and to not sleep with douche bags. It’s a fine line. Strut it.
Really, in the end – of this post, of this blog, of your every good and bad life experience – it all comes back to being true to yourself. The beauty of a genuine soul is unparalleled. If you can somehow shed the confines of the ego and groove to your most natural rhythm? No fat, pimple-necked, nut-sack-faced, camel-toed, chicken-winged shell can mask your hotness.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to perfecting #5. She’s a doozy.