Your twenties are messy, chaotic even. This has been confirmed by the mouldy coffee cup lid I found under my car’s passenger seat today, the fact that my entire wardrobe is a 50/50 balance of glitzy crop tops and fluffy pyjama bottoms that could sit quite comfortably under my boobs, the realisation that I drank two bottles of wine over the weekend, and the fact that checking my bank account feels as risky as checking the opened status of a snap to that guy that you definitely, 15000% should never text again.
I am the chaotic main character of my own twenty-something life, and mouldy coffee lids aside, I bloody love it. Sure, the bottles of wine would have been teamed with the glitzy crop tops at the first end of my twenties, but as I venture into the other end, maybe I’m more of a red wine drinker than white. More sophisticated I think, right? Therefore, the pyjama collection shall continue to grow and become more and more fluffy.
Top tip, if you ruin your own life whilst on the red wine, it has a chic aura surrounding it. You’ll be ending your risky texts with: “Please do not hesitate to get in touch with any questions regarding me being absolutely fuming. Kind regards, that gal you follow on Insta but never engage with anymore because you’re a prick.” Sitting room vibe, cuddles with the dog, etc, and for some reason, whilst typing the risky text, I’m wearing a classic blazer. Beige, badass, and utterly timeless.
White wine is more reckless, very 21-year-old me – party vibed and tastes like guys who could never commit. Pinot Grigi-no thank youuu. Each sip transports me back to my most sassy smoking area one-liners. All of which, if I do say so myself, were truly iconic. In the distance, I hear my bestie making small talk with our taxi driver whilst I ponder why I, once again, did not bring a coat like my mum told me to. And of course my glowing legs are stuck to every chair I sit on – absolutely Sally Hansened.
Both vino vibes combined, they now equal to me, a 26-year-old gal, just wondering what she’s doing with her life and what else could possibly be going mouldy in her little Nissan Micra.
