Someone asked me how I “always look so great,” so I thought I’d share with the world

I wrote this piece about six months ago for a different blog I was running but thought that it would be a good one to renew with a couple of edits, a little bit more bitchiness and a lot more embarrassing pictures. You’re welcome.

Yes. Believe it or not, someone actually thinks I take care of my body and care about how I look to the outside world.

I figured I would give my beauty regimen to all the ladies out there who want to look just like me, or maybe just want to spend less time caring about what they look like, like me.

Alternatively named: How to Stay Single Forever


One of the things I hear a lot is that people love my hair.

The curly and frizzy mix of messy spaghetti noodles that flows out of the top of my head has flat-haired girls all over the world filled with envy. Whenever people tell me how jealous they are, I always give them the same old, “you really, really don’t want to have to deal with this.” But alas, they never believe me.

Whenever people tell me how jealous they are, I always give them the same old, “you really, really don’t want to have to deal with this.” But alas, they never believe me.

Even now, as I write this blog post, my good friend/editor Storm is telling me how much she wants curly hair. Fools, you’re all fools.

Fools, you’re all fools.

So how do I keep it tame, while still being able to live a life, pay bills, and go to the gym twice a month? Well, I don’t. Doing so would add at least an extra 2 hours to my

Doing so would add at least an extra 2 hours to my daily getting ready time, which is a big jump from the 7 minutes I take now.

Basically, my daily hair routine looks a little something like this:

When I actually have time in the morning –

  • Wake up later than I wanted to.
  • Jump in the shower.
  • Sit on bed in towel for at least one hour.
  • Text whoever I am meeting that I am going to be late.
  • Brush my hair.
  • Leave house.

When I don’t have any time in the morning –

  • Wake up way later than I needed to.
  • Realize I don’t have time for a shower, and put hair in a half-assed messy bun.
  • Look in the mirror and realize I’m the modern day Miss Trunchbull from Matilda.
Here's what the cast of Matilda look like now

An actual image of me after I put my hair up.

  • Cry.
  • Run to wherever I need to be.

I do my best to put in minimal effort with my hair, and I’d say about 45% of the time it works out for me. The other 55% of the time we get something like the following, which I just call Kristen couture.


Here’s me in the 11th grade, in my school play where I am cast as a rebellious teenage boy who is a cheerleader in disguise, trying to do rebellious things.

On the other hand, one thing that always offends me the most is how much people tell me they love my hair when it’s straight. My inner dialogue in these moments sounds a little bit like this:

“Excuse me, do you think that I spent the last 45 minutes – 2 hours (depending on humidity, hair length, and whether or not I showered) straightening my hair so you could tell me it looks good?”

“Of course they do. They think that you’re trying to conform to their standards of straight-haired beauty. They’re trying to convert you. Don’t give in.”

“Why don’t they ever tell me my hair looks good when it’s curly?”

“Because it’s always curly. You want them to compliment you every day?”


I then pop into reality and say “thank you,” like a lady, because my grandma taught me how to take a backhanded compliment – mostly because those are the only kind she gives me.


I am proud to say that I actually have pretty good skin. There is a week once a month where I get some nasty pimples on my chin, but I don’t think that’s too uncommon. For the boys reading this who aren’t aware, yes I’m talking about when I get my period.

For the boys reading this who aren’t aware, yes I’m talking about when I get my period.

Aside from that my skin doesn’t give me too many issues. So what is my secret to perfect skin?

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday- Wakes up, splashes face with cold water. Puts on eye cream/moisturizer if necessary.

Saturday and Sunday – Doesn’t do anything because I’m probably too hung over.

I know what you’re thinking, “this bitch doesn’t even wash her face? I hate her.”

Never fear, a younger version of myself would hate me too. You know the early puberty preteen me, who has the same quarter-sized pimple for like, 3 years.

I think I can attribute a lot of the lack of skin issues to the fact that I rarely wear makeup, and when I do, I even more rarely wear foundation. We’ll talk about this a little bit more in the makeup section.

I also never wear sunscreen.

I should, especially because I burn very easily due to my excessive whiteness, but I usually glimpse at the bottle and say “meh.”

There are times in my life where I did wear sunscreen, and I was very happy about it:

  1. Tijuana, Mexico. – when spending 8+ hours a day in the hot sun.
  2. Greece – after watching my sister get a wicked sunburn on only one-half of her body.
  3. Every time I went to the zoo as a child.

There are also times where I didn’t wear sunscreen and really regretted it.

  1. To every Stampede I’ve ever been to.
  2. Venice, Italy. (Ugh.)
  3. California – where I happened to go right after Mexico, and just assumed that the sun wouldn’t harm me the same way it would in Tijuana.

Either way, sunscreen and I are in an on-again, off again kind of relationship. I know that not having her in my life makes me look 45 and that I’ll probably have cancer by the time I’m actually 45 (probably not because of the sun, but because I drink tap water), but I’m not ready to commit.

She’s just too clingy.


The relationship status of makeup and I would fit under the “friends with benefits” or “it’s complicated” portion of the relationship world.

You see, I love makeup. So much so that I buy new lipstick colours and eyeshadow palettes all the time. I also buy into the newest trends and buy contouring kits, and highlighter, but I rarely ever use any of it.

When I was in junior high, I wore makeup every day. I had a very clear routine, woke up at 6 am every day, straightened my hair, picked the perfect outfit, lied to my mom about eating breakfast, and did my makeup on the bus on the way to school.

I don’t know who I was trying to impress, especially looking back on it now and realizing I never impressed anyone but instead made them even more repulsed by me.


I am always looking for an excuse to share this photo. Notice how my face is too big for my body? That is why I wore makeup.

Over the years, my need to wear makeup to fit in has become less and less prevalent in my life. In high school, I went from wearing make-up every day in grade 10 to wearing makeup maybe once a week in grade 12. The same kind of thing happened in university.

Hats off to the girls/boys out there who commit to doing amazing makeup every day. You are the true heroes out there.

PSA: I’m just now realizing that I tend to wear makeup a lot more when I’m in a relationship, or trying to be in a relationship. I hate this, and that I am like this. I’m so sorry to all my feminist predecessors, I will do better.

These days, I really only wear makeup when I’m going out with friends, I have an interview, or I pulled an all-nighter the night before. I’m happy with this system, mostly because it takes minimal effort.

It’s probably because I’m single.

Health and Fitness:

This is an area in life where we all know that I shine.

That was a joke, I hope you’re laughing instead of pitying me.

In all honesty, I don’t really have much to say in this section except I do whatever I want.

If I feel like eating 3 cheeseburgers, I do. And then I throw up because I can’t actually eat 3 cheeseburgers.

If I feel like having 15 drinks in one night, I do. And then I throw up.

If I feel like going on a 5-mile run, I do. And then I throw up.

If I feel like doing a juice cleanse for 3 months, I don’t, because I don’t fucking hate myself.

All I’m saying here is that no matter how much exercise you do, or what you eat, or how you like to get ready in the morning, you’re great just the way you are.

All that matters is that you’re happy with what you’re doing, and you’re comfortable with how you look. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks about how you look.

I spent way too much of my life caring about other people’s opinions on my looks as if they mattered at all. I get not being comfortable in your own skin, hell everyone does.

Live for you. Do your makeup for you, do your hair for you, eat those nachos for you (and share some with me plz), and go on that run for you.

And in the words of Taylor Swift:

Haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.

Oh and stop with the fucking juice cleanses already.



Here’s a bonus photo of me from 2009. It really showcases why I am in fact my own style icon.


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