It's #TMIFriday guys! Time for my overshare of the week. 

So, I was putting my mascara on before right, and it got me thinking - reminiscing, if you will - about the eyelashes I used to have as a youth. I used to march into school; right proud when I had my  'best' mascara on I did. 

And then there was that ill fated incident, in Year 10 or 11 [blurry / repressed memories of this traumatic happening.] The 'scalping' if you will, at the hands of a Wilko's £2.99 eyelash curler. And things were never the same again. 

This got me thinking, whilst simultaneously cringing and wanting to vom, of the terrible fashion faux pas and regular beauty blunders I used to make as an angst ridden teen. So let's laugh at them. By the way, none of these images are mine; thankfully other people on the internets have seemingly made the same mistakes I have...

1. Overplucking my eyebrows. This is a crime that many people still commit to this day, so I do feel slightly comforted that I was not - and am not alone in this unspeakable act.
But really though.
They were literally about 3cm long, and width wise - well what width; they were like solitary wisps of hair that definitely didn't serve the purpose nature intended them for. That started about an inch away from the bridge of my nose. Why did society teach 90s kids this was okay?!

2. Ironing my hair. Literally, getting up, getting the iron and me Ma's ironing board and ironing away. My BabyLiss Shot of Steam straighteners [girls, remember them?!] just weren't up to it. Mum's iron however, was. I'll never forget the smell of burnt hair and biscuits from my teens. Biscuits from the 'great' quality fake tan products we had available back then. I must have been STINKIN'. With The Body Shop's Vanilla Musk perfume layered over the top, to mask it.

Excuse me while I shudder and vom in the corner at this memory. Cheers.



3. Pink sparkly eyeshadow. I mean, I don't want to elaborate too much on this as I might be sick. But that was my teenage life. Pink or lilac sparkly eyeshadow. Like a boss.

4. Wearing the wrong shade of foundation. Or, to put it more accurately; whatever shade was on special offer in Superdrug. Some days, I'd have raging tidemarks. Other times, I'd look like I was dead. Fit through and through.

5. The fateful day of the scalping. I have referred to this tragic event in past blog posts, but for those who perhaps aren't aware, here's a quick roundup. 

Stage 1. I was about 15. It was school photograph day. I wanted to look hawt. I curled my eyelashes ferociously.
Stage 2. They came off. 
Stage 3. Just on my left eye mind, for a sick, non symmetrical joke.
Stage 4. It still haunts me, over ten years later.

1. Convincing my Mum that shoes that were blates too small for me actually fitted, so I could strut around in these beasts. 90s platform loafers. Google them, they're a thing.

2. Buying anything at all that was in the sale. Let's face it, no matter how grim something was, if it had a £3 price tag on it - I'd be right in there. And me Ma wouldn't let me buy anything remotely low cut, so I had to purchase these [ironic] strappy sale beauties while I could. Not that I had any form of breast to put in them.

I remember getting stuck in a boob tube from New Look once. Legit stuck; arms stuck above my head, life flashing before my eyes. But it was ok, cos it was £2.50.

3. Owning pretty much every logo t-shirt with a cat on from Tammy Girl. Like a cat lady in training; too young to have shunned men and surrounded myself with cats. But while wearing these tops, simultaneously and subconsciously giving boys that impression of me. No wonder my Mum endorsed them so much. "No boys till you're thirty!!" And now I'll be honest; I'd prefer the cats anyway.

As Katy Perry once sung about; this was, sadly, my teenage dream.

4. Awkward phases. If I wasn't wearing glittery t-shirts adorned with cartoon cats, I was majorly into  baggy jeans. sparkly gypsy tops, Pineapple crop tops or in my 'Sports Luxe' phase [which wasn't luxe at all] which involved fluoro Ellesse polo tops and Adidas popper pants. These exact ones, in fact.

5. Not even double denim. TRIPLE DENIM. Literally guys, denim upon denim. Every possible shade. A typical outfit for teen me was my dark wash denim jacket [although it took A LOT of persuading to let my Mum let me have a denim jacket, as she was under the mad suspicion that only promiscuous girls wore them.... damn you Katy and your bad rep!] with pale denim jeans and... my denim handbag. I'm literally nearly being sick in my mouth as I type. WHAT WAS MY LIFE?!

What about you, guys? Have you got any majorly cringe outfit confessions from your teens? Had any beauty faux pas, or scalped yourself in a similar way to me? I'd love to hear all about it. Leave your comments in the box below, tweet me or write a #TMIFridays post yourself to share all!

Please tell me it wasn't just me...

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