Sustaining the front of a Utopian dime is hard f–king work. When Robyn Fenty strides through an airport sporting an oversized hoodie and bug-eyed shades, it’s probably not to combat a super nippy day, but to counter everyone’s presumption that she wakes up from an international flight looking like Rihanna. Expectations are a bitch.
There’s this tag team that dwells on the skin of every grown-ass woman I know—they’re called the enhanced version of our self and the natural version. Ladies, we’re all well acquainted with our dual exteriors, but dudes, eh, not so much. I personally cannot look like Tracy The Ten every damn day. Sometimes I wake up feeling like a goon or sometimes I forget to pluck my trusty mascara from the bathroom counter or sometimes I just want to slug it out for 24-hours straight. And because all of the above tends to happen pretty routinely, I’ve learned to manage expectations.
The key to shamelessly transitioning from each format of your self is rather simple—holler at that happy medium as often as possible. Why? Because it’s a positive preview to both sides of the looking glass. You don’t want a dude who only lusts for your ass when that expert smokey-eye comes out to play. Use your Sephora skills wisely and sparingly.
Even if you’re a Guerdley-type who loves getting dolled up, make sure those early stages of lust and like are filled with snaps of you killing it as a strong seven. Whether you’re capable of sashaying around like a million bucks personified or not, if this man becomes your man, he’s going to have to see you as Anonymous The Blah at some point. And you want him to see you as this and spoon you as this and eff you as this because it’s assurance that he’s truly fond of you with or without the bells and whistles. So do me (you and him) a favor and quit heading off to those first dates like it’s a Hype Williams casting call. You’ll save yourself the awkward good morning.
Thank me later,
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