You may think you’re doing an amazing job of fooling everyone into thinking you have a Instagram-worthy existence, but I’ve been following you and I need to tell you that your fake perfect life is far less perfect than my fake perfect life.
I saw that post about your boyfriend sending you flowers, just because. That was so cute that you thought that was so cute. FYI, when I tell my boyfriend to send me flowers, they’re never anything less than peonies, no matter what season. And seriously, were flowers the best thing you could conjure up? I know people with real lives that are more interesting than your fake life. And that’s just sad.
See, my Instagram tells a story. Last week, for example, my boyfriend sent me a bundle of kindling with a note that says, “You light my fire” on it. Because when we stayed at a chalet in the Swiss Alps, and we were lighting a fire, he told me to get some kindling from the wood box? And then I found the Cartier Love Bracelet I told him to buy for me in there? Look at January 3rd in my account! Well, guess what? Attached to the ribbon holding this new set of kindling together was the Cartier Love Ring. Full-circle story. Your shitty fake life doesn’t even come close to that.
Nice pic of you on the beach, by the way. Points for Photoshopping in that thigh gap… minus points for making it so obvious. Did you even check your background to make sure it lined up with your new, better legs? I’m not saying I definitely do Photoshop my pictures, but… I’m not a fucking rookie. Also, the filter you chose may have made you look sort of tan, but it also made the water kind of grey. Not hot. I’m sure you’ve noticed that all of my pics from St. Bart’s have water that’s, like, electric blue. With the filter I use, it’s pretty much a color that hasn’t even been invented yet.
And that party you had, with the pink pom-poms and and string lights? Come on, you must know how basic that looked. Your cupcakes were in foil wrappers. I didn’t see any hand calligraphy on those place settings. I’d be embarrassed to post anything that didn’t have a cocktail menu chalkboard or at least a hand covered in midi rings holding a champagne glass. Please: Never invite me to your fake parties.
It’s really cute that you’re trying to live a fake perfect life, but it’s also super obvious how hard you’re trying. Like, when I take selfies while I’m curating my fake perfect life, I look super zen, my eyebrows look amazing, and I’m pouting just a little bit, because that’s just who I’ve convinced everyone I am. You just look like your taking a selfie, and it seems kind of desperate. So best of luck, babe! I need to go take adorable pictures of the contents of my pantry now.