Let’s face it, when you’re suffering from the dreaded hangover and your head feels like it might explode, your appearance is the last thing you worry about. And why should it be when your main concern is trying to get through the day maintaining conversations without regurgitating… Why shouldn’t it be acceptable for us to embrace our hangover and wear whatever reflects our mood (in this case a vision of violent green sickness)? There’s such media pressure for both men and women to be dressed perfectly each and every day! Even when sick, heartbroken or just really hungover… when all you feel like doing is embracing your PJs and tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream.
With this in mind, I believe we should embrace our hungover look; we shouldn’t cover it up with layers of tangerine foundation and ‘magic eye remedy’ applied like thick poster paint under the deep cassis crevice of your eye bags. We should redefine what it is to appear hungover. Personally, I have wandered the streets of Newcastle in the most horrific ‘hangover look’ combos as possible, and am proud of it. More often than not, I will be kitted out in the ‘I Accept That I’m Dying In Defeat’ look: trackies, a comfy knitted jumper, and old tennis shoes, coupled with bedraggled hair and a clean non-made-up face of misery. Although I may prefer to conceal this image of pure beauty within the dark hungover pit of my bedroom, I will not be ashamed to walk through town towards the frozen Pizza aisle of Tesco’s to cure my ailment.
The ‘I Haven’t Come Home Yet’ look is ready for a wider audience, an outfit largely based on a sparkly silver Urban Outfitters tee from the night before, complete with glitter smudged around your cheekbones. For a lesser human, this is the perfect recipe for a healthy dollop of self-hate and embarrassment at your 9 am Economics lecture; however, if you take on the slogan ‘I don’t give a shit’ the pain will slowly numb until you realise you actually don’t.
There are some mythical creatures among us who can look normal, post sesh. I used to deny the existence of these incredible Normal Hangover Dressers until I became an eye-witness myself. When partaking in the drunken antics the night before, I had woken up for my 11am and been in a state of shock when I realised I was the only one that looked like actual death reincarnated. One of my flatmates is one of these people. After a 3 am Munchies, a roll down Jesmond Dene, a drunken walk home to find to be found at 6 am, locked outside waiting for a friendly flatmate, she still manages to undergo a Cinderella transformation and parade down the staircase looking worryingly normal. Although I’m incredibly impressed, and in awe of her gift, I can’t help to think how much effort this requires. She still feels like shit, and really, if you focus closer and peer through the layers of MAC concealer and dry shampoo, she still looks like borderline shit too. The Answer? Embrace your hangover, rock that messy bun concealing your sins from the night before; wear that silver tee proudly, because if you don’t care, who does?