In Defense of my Inner Girly Girl

by Tracey Flower

A male friend of mine recently saw my stack of fashion and beauty magazines on my coffee table. He gave me a disapproving look and a short lecture about reading such useless fluff. I laughed him off and told him to let it go, it’s my thing. I have to admit, though, his comments kind of bugged me. I’ve been reading fashion and beauty magazines since I was a preteen. I used to buy Seventeen and clearance makeup from MacDonald’s Drug Store and spend Saturday afternoons studying the magazine for tips on how to apply the makeup. And it makes my day every month when I find a new issue of Glamour in my post office box. I’ve never really thought twice about these little guilty pleasures but after my friend’s comments I can’t help but wonder; is this something I’m supposed to be ashamed about?

I’ve always been a girly girl. My dad likes to tell a story about me on my first day of Kindergarten. I stood in front of my dresser with all the drawers open, threw my hands up in the air and declared, “I have nothing to wear.” Not much has changed since then.

I like to shop and get all dolled up. I like to get cozy with a cup of tea and read about boots and handbags (and the real life stories in those magazines too, it’s not all fluff, you know). And I like to give myself facials and pedicures. It just plain feels good and, more than that, it’s part of who I am and I’m not going to apologize for just being myself.

Why, then, do I feel the need to defend my guiltless enjoyment of my guilty pleasures?

Perhaps it was the conversation my fluff-hating friend and I were having before he saw my magazine stash. I had been going on and on about all the things I want to do with my life, mainly travel, write and change the world. I gave this grand speech about how I want to make something good of my recent heartache and use this as an opportunity to grow and really better myself. And more than that I want to help other people because there are so many people who have it even worse than me (I told him this as if I had stumbled on some grand original light-shedding idea). I think he believed me until he saw my magazines.

I really do want all those things for my life. And I really do want to put some good out into the world. Stories of violence and poverty absolutely break my heart and I feel compelled to do something somehow someday to help ease the pain of others.

BUT I think it’s equally important to take care of myself, of my pain and my happiness.

I was in a yoga class a few months and the instructor shared a quote that is very relevant to my argument here but unfortunately I have forgotten the exact wording (and the quoted’s name but I’m pretty sure it was either Ghandi or the Dalai Lama). The message, however, was along the lines of this; you should go out into the world and take care of others but you first must take care of yourself because you’ll never be able to help others if you don’t first help yourself.

Embracing my inner girly girl is part of taking care of myself. I must also exercise, go to work, sleep, meditate, and write (and, yes, maintain a balance of those things and more). The magazines I read might be full of fluff and it might seem frivolous to paint my toenails or shallow that I get so very excited about finding the perfect boots on sale but it’s part of who I am and taking the time to nurture that part of me supports my mental health (and helps me hang on to at least a little bit of sanity), which in turn ensures that I can better focus on putting some good out into the world.


What about you? What guilty pleasures do you feel guiltless about? What silly things keep you sane, ensuring that you can better focus on putting some good out there?