I am not a girly girl.
Repeat. I am not a girly girl.
I have a limited shoe collection, I hardly ever know what to do with my hair, and I can’t apply makeup to save my life.
I have been peed on (and worse), stepped in Godknowswhichendtheycameout animal body fluids, slipped and cleaned countless horse corrals, took a horse kick to the back of the leg like a champ, fallen into manure piles and brushed myself off, shoved my way through intense crowds at concerts, scraped mummified rodent remains from under appliances, repaired roofing, and hauled and stacked hay bales. And then there was the rather unsavory aspect of working for a veterinarian and being the person delegated to do the bagging and logging of departed pets.
I have a limited shoe collection, I hardly ever know what to do with my hair, and I can’t apply makeup to save my life.
I have been peed on (and worse), stepped in Godknowswhichendtheycameout animal body fluids, slipped and cleaned countless horse corrals, took a horse kick to the back of the leg like a champ, fallen into manure piles and brushed myself off, shoved my way through intense crowds at concerts, scraped mummified rodent remains from under appliances, repaired roofing, and hauled and stacked hay bales. And then there was the rather unsavory aspect of working for a veterinarian and being the person delegated to do the bagging and logging of departed pets.
I even hang out with goats in my spare time! |
Repeat. I am NOT a girly girl.
But I will be damned if there isn’t something about this country that…changes me. And half the time I’m not even certain I like the changes. I find myself waking from a daze after shopping to discover that my purchases have rosette patterns, smiling cartoon animal faces, lace and are the most hideous shade of bubblegum pink the world has ever seen.
I sometimes forget that my favorite color is green and not pink.
I partially blame this cute, pink material barrage on the fact that Japan is obsessed with youth. Not youth in the Western sense, where a we want women to be fully developed and young, but actually the reverse. In Japan, of the end of childhood, the tween age, is hyper fetishized to the point that women in their mid 30s are still striving to be called “cute” (in a childish sense), clutching teddy bears, pouting, and having an assortment of Hello Kitty accessories.
This is a strange land.
I’m rambling, but the point I wanted to make is this: even though I am not a girly girl, I still went out and got my nails done recently. And they are adorable.
I have always wanted them ever since my friend Lena had hers done the year we studied abroad. At the time, I poor as hell and surviving off of 100 yen groceries so there was no way I could afford them.
But I will be damned if there isn’t something about this country that…changes me. And half the time I’m not even certain I like the changes. I find myself waking from a daze after shopping to discover that my purchases have rosette patterns, smiling cartoon animal faces, lace and are the most hideous shade of bubblegum pink the world has ever seen.
I sometimes forget that my favorite color is green and not pink.
I partially blame this cute, pink material barrage on the fact that Japan is obsessed with youth. Not youth in the Western sense, where a we want women to be fully developed and young, but actually the reverse. In Japan, of the end of childhood, the tween age, is hyper fetishized to the point that women in their mid 30s are still striving to be called “cute” (in a childish sense), clutching teddy bears, pouting, and having an assortment of Hello Kitty accessories.
This is a strange land.
I’m rambling, but the point I wanted to make is this: even though I am not a girly girl, I still went out and got my nails done recently. And they are adorable.
I have always wanted them ever since my friend Lena had hers done the year we studied abroad. At the time, I poor as hell and surviving off of 100 yen groceries so there was no way I could afford them.
Not the case now! Long live my gel sparkly!
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