I am NOT a Glamorous Traveler
We have all seen THOSE type of glamorous travelers. You know, the type. The woman who emerges from the ocean with her hair and teeth glistening in the warmth of the sun. She flips her hair as she walks along the sand and it lands gently at her side, perfectly framing the angular cheek bones of her blemish free face. Her exquisit
ely tanned skin accentuates her tightly toned physique, as she oozes glamour from every pore of her body (along with expensive Clinique moisturizer). She seamlessly glides towards her satin beach towel, which she elegantly drapes around herself, with not a speck of sand in site.
I respect these women. They somehow manage to keep it all together and appear truly stunning, even in the most adverse of travel conditions. Meanwhile I’m sitting over here, struggling to brush my teeth, let alone put an entire outfit together. I don’t know. I think I’m missing some sort of innate fashion gene because I just don’t have the patience to do my hair and makeup, coordinate my outfits, and get a manicure and pedicure. That is so not my idea of a good time. Frankly, it kind of overwhelms me and that’s why I admire women who can do this on a daily basis.
I am just not a glamazon and I am totally okay with that. I own my not so glamours ways because when I roll up onto a beach, I carry a $5 Walmart beach towel that actually scratches my leg because it is about as soft as sand paper (I didn’t need that extra layer of skin, did I?). As I take off my soccer shorts before I get into the water, I almost fall on my face because my foot gets stuck in one of the legs of my shorts. I recover everything except my pride and reveal my swimsuit du jour; a faded, one piece bathing suit that is from my not so triumphant days of high school swimming.
As I try and spread out my vivacious towel, that is ceaselessly flapping in the breeze, I catch a glimpse of my toes and shudder. My toenails more closely resemble raptor claws than they do any type of human body part I have ever seen (oops. I knew I forgot to do something before I left). As my head rises up, the sun shimmers across the plethora of leg hair that is remnant from this morning’s shaving debacle (I’m ignoring the bandaid on my knee that was a souvenir from my shaving efforts). I slather my pasty white skin with 70 plus SPF sun tan lotion since my dainty, anglo-saxon skin shrivels and burns when it is exposed to the light of day. But because I lather up with a can of spray, sun tan lotion, I accidentally squirt some in my eye and lose one of my contacts. Squinting through my remaining contact, I manage to apply my sunscreen and accidentally miss a huge patch of skin. I know this because when I emerge from the ocean, I have this weird looking patch of red on my leg that resembles some sort of bizarre gang symbol (Who knows, maybe I can blend in with the other thugs?).
As a result of incidents like the one above, I have concluded that my life is an adorably, hilarious, series of unglamorous travel experiences. I am just not that fancy (Iggy Iggs) and am totally okay with it. But it took me awhile to figure that out. For a long time, I tried to be one of those ultra-glamorous women with perfectly quaffed hair. But the more I tried to be super posh, the more self-conscious I felt. Sure, the clothes and makeup looked nice, I mean no one wants to walk around looking like Shrek, but somehow, I just did not feel like myself. That’s why I have embraced my not so classy ways and present to you the 15 Reasons Why I am Not a Glamorous Traveler.
1. Pack pants without an elastic waistband is a struggle.
True story!! My suitcase literally looks like an Under Armor outlet shopping mall (minus the obvious signs of wear and tear on my clothes). That’s because gym clothes are just so damn comfy!! I mean, who doesn’t want to walk around in ever expanding elastic so that they can eat all their favorite foods and NOT feel guilty about it? That’s why I rock the soccer mom look with my yoga pants and new balance sneakers ( Just take out the children and athletic prowess and I could totally rock soccer mom status). Seriously though, my biggest packing dilemma is whether I should bring a hoodie with or without a zipper. Oh the eternal struggles in life!
2. The only perfume I use is deodorant.
Sad but true. I never wear perfume. I just cannot bring myself to spend $70 on a bottle of something that I am not eating or drinking (I know where my priorities lie). The only reason I have any perfume at all is because a friend gave me a free sample. But even then, I am pretty lack luster about using it and am more inclined to spray myself with a light mist of Febreze. Talk about fresh (Just kidding. I don;t love Febreze THAT much)!
3. I carry makeup. It’s called chapstick.
I am totally makeup inept. That’s why I have a little kit with detailed, step by step instructions about how to apply each item in the package. It’s awesome because there is no way I can mess it up. But I only wear makeup for very formal occasions because that is the only time I have the patience to do it (and then laboriously wash it all off after. It never seems to come off. Talk about annoying). Otherwise, I just rock chapstick and moisturizer all day everyday, like a BOSS!
4. The only skincare product I have is sunscreen.
Many people have toners and clarifiers and cleansers and moisturizers and wrinkle repair creams. Meanwhile, I’m over here with my two in one moisturizer-sunscreen, wondering what the heck all these other products are even for . It’s all sounds like another very expensive language that I just do not speak.
5. The fanciest bra I own is a sports bra.
Hold up. Shut the front door! You mean there are bras out there that you fasten? And that have an underwire, and maybe even push things up? Wow! That sounds like a lot of work. I’m just gonna throw on a sports bra and go. The best part though is that they’re cheap, easy to fold, and don’t have any special washing instructions. Plus, I can wear them both inside and outside of the gym. Seriously, it’s like a little life miracle.
6. Granny panties are what all the hip kids are wearing right?
So, as we already established, I wear exclusively yoga pants. As a result, the fabric has a tight fit around
my butt and the underwear line sometimes shows through. The only reason I know about this issue is because a friend told me that I could remedy this situation by simply wearing a thong. Well, that happened once and I felt like I had a permanent wedgie. Therefore, I continue to rock my granny panties and if the world sees the hint of an underwear line, then so be it (That is my tragic burden to bare and I accept it nobly).
7. Socks aren’t mandatory, are they?
Socks are optional right? Like a suggested guideline when putting on footwear of any kind? People always yell at me for this because when I don’t wear socks, my feet sweat and my shoes start to smell. I just smile and say, “Where is that Febreeze at? (Come on guys. Febreeze solves every problem, even Calculus. Just kidding!) ”
8. Packing heels is not an option because I don’t own any.
I know I know, it’s terrible. A crime against humanity if you will, but I just can’t walk in them. Whenever I wear heels, I look like a 4 year old trying to walk around n her mother’s shoes. Plus, on the rare occasion that I do wear heels, my feet hurt so much that I feel like I just ran a marathon in bare feet. Therefore, heels of any kind are a no go when I’m traveling. It’s just not gonna happen.
9. My suitcase looks like something that the monster from the black lagoon ate and then spit out because it was too gnarly even for him.
I see these women toting their pristine, Louis Vuitton luggage behind them and I wonder how the hell their bag looks so immaculate. I mean, even when I check my bag as a carry on, I still manage to spill something on it or rub it against a wall full of wet paint. Therefore, by the time I return home, my luggage looks like a glorified hobo bag (and not in the designer way. In the, people might actually start tossing coins into my cup because they feel so bad for me kind of way). Seriously, that’s why I can’t have anything nice. The best though is when I have rolling luggage and the wheel breaks half way through my trip. Talk about amazing. Who doesn’t love dragging a useless rolling bag with them everywhere they go? (Totally sarcastic. I know that sort of
thing doesn’t translate well via blog. The best though is when you have to drag your broken rolling bag up a flight of stairs because there is no elevator. Pure perfection).
10. The only hair dryer that I have is the wind.
I am so bad when it comes to hair dryers. I just don’t have the patience for them, (and my hair is fine so it takes like no time at all. Fun fact, I used to say my hair was thin but my mom yelled at me because she said I wasn’t balding.) and even when I do use them, I leave half my hair wet because I get bored and give up. Therefore, I embrace the lightly tousled, wind swept look that roughly translates to, “I’m traveling and don’t give two craps about my hair. So, if you’re going to judge me then that’s awesome because I will never see you again. Toodles!”
11. I have two hairs styles, a bun and a ponytail. Everything else is too much work.
Buns and ponytails accurately sum up the variety of hairstyles that are in my repertoire. And if I’m feeling really creative, I may even throw a braid into the mix for good measure (but no french braids because they’re way too complicated for me). Now, I know you’re probably wondering why I don’t just wear my hair down since that is the easiest style of all. Well, when I do this it either gets in my face so that I can’t see anything, (and I can’t fall on my face because my face is the money maker for sure) or I find myself sucking down hair balls like a freaking cat. No thanks. I’ll stick to my buns and ponytails, even if they are a bit lame.
12. The only manicure I get is when I bite my nails.
Yeah, I gave up on manicures a long time ago. First of all, I bite my nails and that alone renders a manicure completely useless. On top of that, I am so clumsy that the minute I get out of the salon, I smash my nails into something and totally ruin them (Talk about feeling like you’re winning at life). Therefore, to make matters easier, I just bite my nails and call it day. Plus, I really don’t miss them yanking out my cuticles. If I really wanted to sign myself up for torture, I would attend a Teletubbie marathon.
13. Personal Hygiene rules don’t apply on an overnight train right?
What do you mean that your teeth and body get groody while you’re traveling on the train? I thought all personal hygiene rules were suspended since overnight train travel is annoying at best. And let’s be real, who wants to wash their face and brush their teeth in those teeny tiny train bathrooms? It’s a total nightmare because not only is there always an insane line, but as soon as you set foot in the bathroom, it reeks from the atomic bomb of ickiness that the person before you left behind (talk about the gift that keeps on giving). Instead, I’ll just get my coma on and wake up when the torturous train ride is over.
14. The only thing that flies first class is my air mail.
I have never flown first class, but I am sure it is amazing. I just haven’t reached baller status yet, so I just can’t afford to roll into first class like a big shot. But maybe one day. Either that or i’ll magically get bumped up from my seat in coach next to the screaming baby, hormonal teenagers sucking face, and the rather pungent man next to me who does not stop talking (Dude, head phones always mean no talkie talkie).
15. When I take photos, I always make myself look
10 pounds heavier.
Dude, I have no idea what is wrong with me but even my selfies suck. Everyone else has these exquisite shots where they are gracefully strewn across a bed of flowers that gently rest upon a park bench. Me, my eyes are half closed, I look like I’m sucking down bugs, I have a jabba the hud double chin, there’s drool at the corner of my mouth, and oh yes, a booger in my nose to top it all off. I look like the poster child for why kids shouldn’t eat paint chips. Just do me a favor and whatever you do, don’t ask me to take your picture because whatever photos I take will make you feel super self-conscious (No, you don;t really look like that and yes, it is totally me).