“My head just doesn’t get cold and looks perfect all the time,” she says.
It’s because she’s a witch. There’s a torrential down pour that takes out the entire subway station like the Titanic, and this women walks into her first date with Chad looking like she just walked off a sunset soaked beach in the Caribbean. Witch! You know the type of woman I’m talking about. The woman who can eat ramen in public without looking like a toddler who just figured out how to bring a utensil to her mouth.
That one woman at your office that walks in looking perfect? She’s a witch. Don’t believe me? How is her hair never out of place? Ever? Not even if there was a hurricane and you had to leave work early. Even Dorothy looked a little disheveled when the tornado dropped her in Oz. Eyeliner that doesn’t run in the highest humidity, the kind that would punch a normal girl in the face as she walks out the door. No, not for Sabrina over here. Perfect cat eye. At 6pm!
Also, what spell do I need to get the perfect cat eye because they don’t have those kinds of tutorials online.
These women with mystical powers are making the rest of us look bad and setting impossible standards of put-togetherness. Most of us non-witches don’t have our shit together and I have to compete with you and your mysteries? Yeah, I look like a sweaty hog after a work out and this aerobics Barbie chick looks all dewy and glowing like a Sunday morning, but is that worth the cost of eternal damnation? Maybe. Maybe being the Mistress of Darkness won’t be that bad if I can never stain my coat with coffee again. I mean, think of the dry-cleaning bills! I could by groceries. The produce!
Whoa. I got caught up a little over there. I was almost tempted. Burn the witch!
Okay, maybe not burn her, that seems anti-feminist, but maybe make her use her powers for more selfless reasons. Maybe they should be nudged to use their powers to smash the patriarchy or something instead of never having a chipped nail polish. How about that ladies? At least teach us the perfect hair curse because like I mentioned before, humidity sucks. Stop making us look bad just because you were shrewd enough to marry the Devil. Pick a day out of the week to look sloppy please. Just one day! And give the rest of us a break.
Image: Harper’s Bazaar
