The Trouble with Being White

Okay, I probably already pissed off a bunch of people with that innocent little five-word title. Yes, yes, you’re right, being white is generally a cakewalk. People don’t yell racial slurs at you, and you aren’t given less of a shot at job interviews, and people don’t have a whole category of jokes about you based off of untrue stereotypes. I fully concede that being white is not tough, even for me, who is almost-totally white but still has a dash of Native American.

But. We honkeys will never, ever, ever be as beautiful as the rest of the world. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Sure, there are total knockouts who happen to be white, but then you compare them with someone who’s half-Cuban and half-Chinese and you’re like, “Sorry, Casper, but they’ve got you beat.” People with non-white heritage, especially those lucky ducks with a whole melting pot of it, are just stunning.

Take my girl Signe here, who’s Swedish and African.

Now, if you’re white and reading this and thinking, “Bitch, I am beautiful,” I’m sure you are! But you’re not exotic and you’re going to age terribly if the sun has ever touched your skin. I know, I feel it too. We can go get Botox together in twenty years to maintain our gorge levels.

See, I am from a tiny little podunk farm town, and everyone is white. Then I went to college in a city, and people were less white and lots of them were annoyingly beautiful. Then I went to an even bigger city, and almost threw up because everyone was so drop-dead gorgeous I felt like a sack of pasty potatoes. Everyone in that city is a quarter Jamaican, half Indian, one-eighth African, and the rest fairy dust, from the looks of it. People who have mixed heritage seem to automatically get the most stunning parts of each ancestry and then some.

So, yes, whiteys are totally unfairly privileged, but we will never be the hottest. C’est la vie.

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Crush That Girl

Everyone has a girl crush. Guys and gay girls, sure, but everyone else too–straight girls and gay guys and the people who fall somewhere in between. See, the reason is that a “girl crush” doesn’t have to be sexual, and usually isn’t, so EVERYONE has one. Girls are magical creatures, kind of like unicorns but with soft lips and shiny hair instead of a weird deformity in the middle of their head. Personally, I think it’s impossible not to have a crush on at least one.

Mine is my girl Candice, which I agree is probably narcissistic since I’ve been compared to her on more than one occasion. But far be it from me to make Girl Crush rules–if your girl crush happens to be the fox you see in the mirror every day, more power to you. But COME ON–look at Ms. Swanepoel. I don’t care who you are, she is gorge.

Now, I pretty much have a GC on Candy because she looks like a human Barbie and she has a really awesome accent that should be used to record soothing fall-asleep tapes. And girl has some serious yoga flex. But usually, people’s Girl Crushes are a little more complex. Take the most girl-crushed-upon girl of all time, the indie darling Zooey Deschanel.

Now, yes, people like Zooey for her looks. As with most (but not all) girl crushes, it’s all about appearance. Zooey is a normal-looking pretty girl with big boobs, so naturally a lot of people like her. But toss on the thick bangs, vintage dresses, and the occasional pair of quirky-cute glasses, and Zooey is the world’s Girl Crush extraordinaire. I’m not hating at all, I just don’t happen to have a GC on Zooey so that drooling, hearts-a-pitter-patter feeling Crushers have is absent in me. Which means I find it a little annoying when people squeal, “Ugh, I just love Zooey, she’s so unique!”

That brings us to…the dark side of Girl Crushes. When you have a total GC on someone, and your best friend says, “Oh, really? I don’t like her,” and you stare daggers into them because OBVIOUSLY THE PERSON YOU CRUSH ON IS PERFECT…yeah, that’s when it’s gone too far. Then you need to stop bidding on their used tissues on eBay, making a scrapbook of their tabloid appearances, and doodling their surname in your checkbook. A girl crush is just that–a crush. Obsession? Come on, now you’re just creepy!

I Hate Your Face

Have you ever been dating someone, and you either don’t really care for them or you’re falling out of love, and all you can see are their flaws? One day they’re handsome and charming, and the next day you squint at their face in total disgust and think, “Well, fuck me, you’re positively revolting!”

That’s mean, I know. But I can’t help it. My first serious boyfriend and I were that awful couple that never loved each other at the same time, so for the first year of our relationship I ignored him and flirted with every Tom, Dick, and Harry who smiled in my direction (which, let’s be honest, is a lot of Toms and Dicks). And then I finally started to like him as much as he liked me, and then BAM, he wasn’t feeling it as much, and then we both were matched in our misery and broke up. Boo-hoo, it happens, life goes on.

But let me tell you, during that year, all I could see was his Stupid Ugly Face. Due to the virtue of our locations I only saw him once a week, less if I could avoid him, but his mug was still a horrible shock whenever it came swimming into view on our weekly rendezvous. He had these horrid–tiny, miniscule, possibly the size of an atom–white dots near his eyes. And a giant nose that probably weighed 700 pounds. And his pores, his pores! His stupid rough hair and by GOD was his smile unpleasant, and why did his nostrils flare when he BREATHED?

You get the idea. I would literally sit in his crumbly apartment and stare at his face with confusion. But I guess this makes sense, because I didn’t really care for him and I had tried to dump him and blahblahblah.

The real problem lies in that I do this with everyone. Yeah, you heard me. Everyone. Close friends and my current beau get a pass, because my heart is fully of warm squishy feelings for them and therefore my brain cannot produce enough hatred to formulate mean thoughts about them. But strangers? Oh holy FUCK do I scrutinize you.

It’s not that I mean to. I fully realize what a shallow bitchbag I sound like, and in the interest of fairness, I do it to myself too. I could stand in front of the mirror with professional makeup on and just think about my face until I’ve magically morphed into a drooling, deformed troll. Blame the media or fashion magazines (or, if you want, my keen and observant eye) but it’s like looking at words and trying not to read them: your brain just does it. At least, my bitchbrain does.

So you know how your acquaintance asks if the hideous pimple on their face is noticeable, and you say no, because maybe you didn’t even look? Yeah, well, I saw it. And since I’m as sweet as apple pie, I won’t say a thing, but holy God is that a zit. And as for you, I see those bags under your eyes and the lint on your sweater and that weird tooth and the place by your jaw where the foundation isn’t blended right. But weirdly, I still think you–and most everyone, even after my brain rips them to shreds–is beautiful! It’s a rare gift. (Now fix that foundation, gorgeous.)

Why Women Hate Samantha Brick

(Hint: it’s not because she’s beautiful.) I’m not sure if any of you have had the pleasure to read Samantha Brick’s columns in The Daily Mail, but she came out with a doozy, titled, “There are downsides to looking this pretty–Why women hate me for being beautiful.” This is Samantha, by the way.

I’ll just let that sink in. Now, in the interest of fairness, Samantha is British, so the semi-busted teeth are not her fault. And besides her mouth (and looking slightly like Sloth from The Goonies if you look at her really fast then look away), she is really not ugly. She’s pretty, even–look at this picture.


But holy mother of pearl, is she delusional. You really have to read the article, but I’ll spare you and just pop in some highlights.

“While I’m no Elle Macpherson, I’m tall, slim, blonde and, so I’m often told, a good-looking woman. I know how lucky I am. But there are downsides to being pretty — the main one being that other women hate me for no other reason than my lovely looks.”

“I’ve been dropped by countless friends who felt threatened if I was merely in the presence of their other halves. If their partners dared to actually talk to me, a sudden chill would descend on the room.”

“Unfortunately women find nothing more annoying than someone else being the most attractive girl in a room.”

Um…yeeeeeah. Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think people hate you because you’re so ridiculously beautiful that their husbands would fall at your feet and your smile makes them want to rip off their own faces in jealousy. I’m pretty sure the reason people actually hate you is that you’re more conceited than Kanye West.

Loving yourself is just ducky, and thinking that you are a hot motherfuckin’ tamale is also totally kosher. Even kind of secretly thinking you look better than everyone in the room is sort of acceptable. BUT YOU CAN’T ACT LIKE IT. That’s the cardinal rule. There’s confidence, and then there’s swaning around complaining in a newspaper about how tough life is when you’re sooooooooo beautiful. I mean, you just sound like a twat.

On one foot, I sort of feel bad for ol’ Sammy Brick, because she really isn’t ugly and the whole Internet has just gone insane with comments about how hideous she is. Her personality isn’t cute, but her face is–she’s just not drop-dead, knock-’em-over gorgeous, which is how she writes about herself. I mean, has she ever seen a model? Or a celebrity? Or, you know, someone with white teeth (stupid question, she’s English)? But still, she writes in the article about how “not one girlfriend has ever asked [Samantha] to be her bridesmaid.” She obviously attributes this to the fact that she’s so stunning, the bride’s husband would inevitably veer over to Samantha and give her the ring instead. But, tragically obviously to the rest of the world, it’s clearly because she’s annoying as fuck and has no real friends.

On the other foot, come on, Sammy. You get free champagne and have doors opened for you and all that, so shut the fuck up and enjoy it.

You, and Other Things I Love

First of all, let me just say how much I fucking love you sexy little people for reading my blog! I just had my highest page views ever, and my little stats bar looks like a mountain over the past few months. It’s wayyyy more fun writing down all my stupid thoughts when people read them and then comment, “I think the same stupid thing!” so I hereby send you all kisses from someone attractive.

Secondly, I am going to make a list of things I love (besides y’all). Why? Because it is fun, that’s why. If you’re ever just slouching around your house in sweatpants watching Mad Men re-runs with an ice-cream spoon sticking out of your mouth, feeling bummed because Don Draper doesn’t hook up with girls/guys in sweatpants, you should ALSO make a list of things you love! I’m not sure if this is making any sense–to clarify, making a list of things you love cheers you up and has nothing to do with Don Draper, unless you put him on your list.

So, here are some things that I adore.

  1. Finding keys when I’m out walking. I don’t know why, I just think it’s sort of magical-seeming. Like, what if I found a locked door and tried the key and IT WORKED and inside was a whimsical land full of faeries?!? Oh, that only happens in movies, you say? Fine, then I’m going to use my key on your car’s paint job.
  2. That fresh-out-of-the-shower feeling. Mmmmph.
  3. Being completely alone somewhere really beautiful.
  4. That just-had-sex feeling. Mmmmph.
  5. Swedish people. They are extremely gorgeous, their accents are cool, and they have great style. I base this solely on Swedish fashion blogs and have never been there so it must be true. But I have to believe it, because I get mistaken for a Swede all the time and clearly it’s because I’m so gorgeous/have an awesome accent/am stylish.
  6. Body lotion. I like it better than perfume, as much as I love perfume, because I feel it really lasts longer.
  7. Forgetting about cups of tea and then drinking them hours later when they’re cold.
  8. Young Johnny Depp. I mean, I wouldn’t kick Current Johnny Depp out of bed, but Young J is so attractive that it literally confounds me. He is a perfect flawless human specimen and if I had a time machine you bet your ass I’m using to it go visit Crybaby-era Johnny. (I’m making him keep the Crybaby hairstyle, too.)
  9. Pretty pictures. There’s a reason Tumblr is so popular, and the reason is not all the annoying “reblog this picture of a war veteran dog with AIDS who is also an orphan and has terminal butt cancer” (REBLOGGING A DEPRESSING PICTURE DOESN’T CURE AIDS, PEOPLE). The reason is pretty pictures. Done.
  10. Kissing. Mmmmph.
  11. The way my nails look right after I just painted them (and before i inevitably smash my hand into something and ruin it all).
  12. Mojitos with lots of mint leaves.
  13. Fresh flowers in funny-looking vases everywhere. If I was rich I’d hire a Chief Executive Flower-Picker to always keep brand-new wildflowers on deck in adorable little bottles.
  14. Getting letters.
  15. YOU GUYS. (You’re so nice, I had to write you in twice!)

And that’s it. That’s everything I love in the whole world, so everything else just GET LOST! (I’m joking, Universe; please don’t smite me and leave me alone with nothing but a mojito and Young Johnny Depp. Or, you know, smite away.)

Okay, now it’s your turn. Next time you feel like poo just make a really long list of stupid things you like, and if you still feel like poo when you’re done with the list, just write more things until you fall asleep and then you won’t remember how sad you are! That’s emotional health if I ever saw it.

How to Be a Girl

If you have lady-parts and you prefer to dress like a trucker and spit tobacco juice out of the corner of your mouth, that is cool (as long as you don’t get any spit on me). And if you are genetically female but you hate clothes and prefer reading maps and doing long division, that is also…well, maybe not cool, but totally your prerogative.

But for all the ladies who put the “girly” in “girly-girl,” this is for you. Oh, wait, I forgot, it’s actually just a weak front for me to blather on about my makeup because I LOVE MAKEUP. So, amendment, this post should be titled: The WildHeart’s Guide to Making Your Face Look Less Bad, but I’m not changing it because “How to Be a Girl” is catchier.

It’s kind of awkward that I am writing this and absolutely no one who reads my blog will be interested in it. But it’s y’all’s own fault, because I go all Oliver Twist and beg you for comments but no one tells me what to write about, so ha! This is what you get. A makeup guide. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY. (Really, though, I don’t even know what you darlings like to read about, because I post such random things that it’s hard to tell what is a hit and what is shit. Sex posts? Drug posts? Rock and roll posts?)

ANYWAY back to the pressing matters at hand: Stuff Girls (and Guys Who Like to Be Pretty) Can Do to Their Faces!

My general makeup routine goes something like this. And if you’re a mascara-and-lip gloss girl and you don’t know what I’m talking about, keep in mind that I could literally fill a whole duffel bag with my makeup collection alone, so don’t be daunted.

  1. First, I wash my face! (Can you believe it? I’m really cutting-edge with my makeup routine.) Then I toss on a little toner, and wait for it to dry. Then it puts the lotion on its skin.
  2. Primer! Primer is this sexy new thing I just got into that makes your face all smooth and perfect like a smooth, perfect cloud. You can wear it by itself, allegedly, but every makeup-lovin’ person I know just uses it under makeup to make your skin more perfect.
  3. De-puffing under-eye roller!
  4. Foundation! I never used to use it, and now I look back at all my pictures and want to puke. It makes you look sooooo much better, as long as you don’t pick the wrong color or cake it all over your face like a drag queen (unless that’s what you’re going for). Some people have beautiful skin and don’t need it, in which case, don’t fucking wear it! But it makes me look a lot better. I use a stippling brush for mine, and I own four different shades for my varying levels of tan throughout the year.
  5. Loose powder! It sets the foundation and really gives an all-over flawless finish. The only slight problem is that it makes your skin really matte, which is okay but I prefer a dewy finish. Which brings us to…
  6. Bronzer/blush/highlighter! I don’t usually use all three unless I’m getting drunk and slutty, but combining any 2 is usually okay for daytime. Highlighter gives you that glowy look, and bronzer and blush make you look…bronze and blushing, respectively.
  7. Eye primer! It makes your eyeshadow stay on longer. Yup.
  8. Eyeshadow! Eyeliner! Mascara!
  9. Lip liner! Now, I absolutely loathe that horrid early 90’s look where someone outlined their mouth in red marker and filled it in with pink, but I bought lip liner in the color Natural and I fill in my whole mouth with it, like you’re coloring your lips with crayon. It makes the color last and the shape of your mouth more defined, and lipstick doesn’t feather. Which brings us to…
  10. Lipstick or lip gloss!
  11. And now for taking all that shit off…makeup wipes, followed by a good cleanser. Then I use nighttime face moisturizer and an eye cream!

You’re thinking, “Wow, she is one high-maintenance bitch.” But this is like my full-on, balls-out face thing. (Ew, I don’t like using “balls” and “face” in the same sentence.) Usually, I do foundation and bronzer and lipstick, which is enough. I mean, when you’re as good-looking as me, you don’t really need much help. But you people…no, just kidding, you’re gorgeous. So why did I write this long boring post that most of you probably didn’t even read (which means probably no one is reading this part right here…PICKLED OREOS!)? Because I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment. Cheers!

 

 

In the Ink of an Eye

Wow, that title was dumb! I’m talking about tattoos.

Yes, tattoos. Lately, I keep running into boring pieces about why they’re bad, then why they’re good, then why they’re kind of okay, blah blah blah. It’s all kind of like saying, “I really adore sardines, and since I just love them you have to eat them too!” or, “I really loathe sardines, and since I just hate them you have to not eat them too!” Or something. I mean, what is the point of writing an article telling other people how they should feel about tattoos? Your pen/keyboard/quill (kicking it old school, I like that) is not magical, and no one is going to agree with you just because you put it on your Facebook.

So you might be asking yourself, Well, you sassy minx, then what in the name of Dickens is this post going to be about? I’ll tell you: different kinds of cheeses and their native lands. First we have Gouda, and Munster, and…oh, did you know tattoo artists practice on cheeses before stabbing their inky needles into human skin? Damn, we’re back on the tattoo thing.

Basically, my point (disclaimer: I don’t have a point. What do you think this is, a paper? I just type things) is that you can feel however you want to feel about tattoos, but don’t push your bullshit on other people. One of the articles I read said a lot of boring blather about how women are classy and take care of themselves and paint their toenails (seriously, it said that…I mean, I skimmed, but those were main elements), and that tattoos totally ruin it and make women “trashy.” It also said women “hold the world’s beauty in their hands,” which totally discredits the face of Johnny Depp and the body of Channing Tatum, as well as some seriously impressive ab work by David Beckham.

And then all the pro-tattoo articles say that tattoos have meaning and your body is a beautiful butterfly of a canvas to paint with Ed Hardy logos meaningful art. And no, that tattoo sleeve does not make you trashy, it makes you a glorious walking Jackson Pollock/Your Favorite Artist Here.

I, personally, love tattoos, so if you think my summary of the pro-tattoo side sounds a little bitchy, it’s only because it does. I had to, to make it sound like I was being fair and not making fun of the prudish no-tattoo people (kidding, my milk-skinned dears). I think well-done, meaningful, not-done-at-3-am-on-a-Jack-and-Coke-binge tattoos are truly a form of art, and gorgeous.

But, if you hate them, and think that every dude/lady sporting a tramp stamp is, well, a tramp, that’s cool too. Because I don’t care. Isn’t it cool? I have my own opinion, and it doesn’t match your opinion, but it’s okay, because we’re grown-ups and I don’t even hate you! Aren’t you glad you read this? Now you can look down at your Mike + Jenny 4Eva tattoo fondly, or look down at your bare skin glistening in the moonlight and be all, yeah, fresh as a baby’s bottom! The WildHearts guarantee: EVERYBODY WINS.

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