Hilma af Klint, Evolution No. 12, 1908
In the Starbucks I saw a girl who had hair that looked like Charlotte’s in the Sex in the City—brown, glossy, volume at the roots but not too curly. The succession of thoughts that tumbled through my head went roughly like this: That’s a good blowout… I should get more blowouts. Or use hot rollers? But they’re so annoying and the curls fall out so quickly. Well, her hair texture is probably so different from mine. She actually does look like Charlotte… it’s the nose, what’s that called again? A ski slope nose. I bet she works as a consultant. Are those Tory Burch flats? I don’t know if I approve of those.
Do you guys remember the blogpost about a certain female founder’s incredibly extensive preparation (colonics were mentioned) so she could feel a self-proclaimed “7.5/10 happy with her appearance” at her wedding? To me, that’s so representative of the modern female experience: a manic drive for optimization. Nothing can ever be “good,” because only perfection is good, and nothing is perfect. Everything can only ever be acceptable.
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