One thing I learned a long, long time ago when I entered this line of work was to NEVER tell your colleagues that funny/weird/quirky thing that you/your mum/your boyfriend did that ended up being a really funny/sad/unique story.
You’ll be hit with this:
Great story! You should write about it!
But…
But…
Yes, of course. Of course I will write that thing I never intended for the whole internet to know. Of course I will!
And the minute I learned that – the minute I ceased blurting out anecdotes from my life – was the minute I stopped writing stories about that weird wedding I went to/strange beauty product I heard was good/that funny thing my friend did on the weekend.
It was a foolproof plan. Until of course you realise stupid stories don’t only ever have to come from your own brain. They can be given to you! Amazing.
And that, my friends, is how I got to a place where I ended up putting olive oil on every corner of my face for the sake of a story.
The message, two weeks ago, from my editor Michelle came in like so: “I think you should wash your face with olive oil for a week or two.”
My reply? “Haha no thanks it sounds like a terrible idea that I am not willing to sacrifice my face for Yep just checked, I have some downstairs.”
For 10 days I washed my face with olive oil because Michelle said the internet/beauty gurus had begun talking about it like it was a legitimate thing to include in your skincare routine. I wanted to remind her that “snail goo” was also a fad once, but didn’t, because I need my job.