HelluvaGirl

I go to a forest for a walk like twice in a decade and this was one of those times. It was windy but I decided to sport my ink-blue cable-knit cardy instead of a coat.

Augustas: “Maybe I should just give those hareem pants for good?”

Me: “Oh no, how could I.”

Also wearing Soaked in Luxury earmuffs, Ray Ban Cats, my beloved Cacharel scarf, H&M leopard-print gloves, Zara satchel, a stretchy belt my sister gave me several years ago, and Vagabond boots a la Les Miserables.

I’ve noticed my scar shows in pictures quite prominently. It’s on the chin and makes the face look even more asymmetric than it naturally is. I know I can always have a plastic surgery done but whenever I think about this scar on the chin or a boob lift, or putting my arse in the place it was intended to be, I ask myself a question of principle. I think it was Kate Blanchett who said our body is our private history and it’s beautiful to embrace it – every wrinkle, every scar, every stretch-mark. That’s what makes us unique and unmistakeable. That’s what makes us remember where we came from.

I think it’s a very meaningful idea that I contemplate every time I start whining about boobs or arse out of place. To tell the truth, I have several more scars on my body that I hold dear. Ah, to hell with plastic surgery.

Photo: Augustas Gutautas.