My Messy Bun Manifesto for Women’s Day

Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves. It’s that time of the year again. No, I’m not talking about tax season or the haunt of the early summer. I’m talking about International Women’s Day.

Now, before you start sharpening your pitchforks, let me clarify: I’m not against celebrating women. Heck, I’m a woman myself, and I think we’re pretty fantastic.

Gone are the days of dressing up in our finest attire, marching proudly in parades, and demanding equality with banners held high. Instead, we find ourselves knee-deep in chores, tackling the mountain of laundry, and wondering if anyone even remembers it’s Women’s Day.

So, what does Women’s Day look like as we age? Let’s dive into this comedy of errors:

The Costume Conundrum: Remember when Women’s Day meant dressing to the nines, with heels that could rival skyscrapers? Now, it’s more like debating between sweatpants or yoga pants – the ultimate struggle of comfort over couture.

The Emotional Rollercoaster: In our younger years, Women’s Day might have brought tears to our eyes as we reflected on the struggles and triumphs of womanhood. Now, it’s more likely to bring tears of frustration as we try to locate that missing sock or decipher the cryptic instructions on the new blender.

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The Quest for Recognition: For years, we’ve attempted to make our presence felt, to demand the respect and recognition we deserve. But somehow, Women’s Day becomes just another day of cooking, cleaning, and caretaking – with a side order of “Congratulations on Being a Woman” messages after we’ve already scrubbed the kitchen floor.

The Male Colleague Epiphany: Ah, yes, the male colleagues who suddenly realize it’s Women’s Day and decide it’s the perfect opportunity to shower us with compliments and praise. For a brief moment, they tiptoe around us, afraid to say anything that might offend – until tomorrow, when it’s back to business as usual.

The Gifts (or Lack Thereof): And let’s not forget the gifts – those tokens of appreciation that often miss the mark entirely. A vacuum cleaner? Really? Because nothing says “I value you as a woman” like a household appliance.

So, as Women’s Day comes and goes, let’s take a moment to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Yes, we may not be marching in parades or attending fancy galas, but our presence – whether in sweatpants or stilettos – is still a force to be reckoned with.

But guess what? This year, I’m declaring a revolution. A revolution of comfort, of authenticity, and yes, of messy buns. Why, you ask? Because let’s face it, life’s too short for uncomfortable shoes and restrictive clothing. If I’m going to celebrate being a woman, I’m going to do it on my terms – messy bun and all.

Cheers to womanhood – I go around this time in my messy bun shunning the high heels. So there you have it, folks. The messy bun: not just a hairstyle, but a symbol of defiance, of self-expression, and of unapologetic badassery.

So this Women’s Day, I invite you to join me in embracing the messy bun revolution. Throw on your comfiest sweats, toss your hair up in a bun, and let’s show the world that being a woman is messy, beautiful, and absolutely fabulous.

And to those who still don’t quite understand the true essence of Women’s Day? Well, there’s always next year.

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