Lazy: It’s not necessarily the most flattering label. And yet, the adjective is all over the internet as the all-encompassing moniker of choice in almost any how-to service piece that has ever crawled across your Facebook feed. Even though I know this, and am most definitely paying attention to the (wo)man behind the curtain, I can’t help myself from clicking anyway.
So widespread is this trope that New York magazine ran a tongue-in-cheek piece questioning why exactly the Lazy Girl has become such a popular internet meme. The thesis is that, like the Busy Girl, the Lazy Girl is the media’s collective attempt to characterize women as being too lazy, and simultaneously overwhelmed with other concerns, to master the simplest human tasks — but don’t worry, here’s a guide to teach your slovenly self how to do the obvious. Way harsh, NY mag.
As a self-proclaimed Lazy Girl, I am going to have to respectfully disagree. Lazy Girls are real people, not some click-baited invention of desperate publishers. That’s not to say the article doesn’t make some valid points. The term is ridiculously overused, for sure, and the tone that many of these articles take is patronizing.
But "lazy" does not have to be derisive — I wear the word with pride. My "laziness" doesn’t come from a place of ignorance, or aimlessness, or apathy toward my beauty routine — it’s because I’m too busy getting shit done to spend an hour twiddling with a hot iron. I know how to get what I want, guys. I just want to know how to get it more efficiently.
My version of the Lazy Girl is a woman who legitimately does not give a fuck. I’m not talking about the poseur who says, “I try to look like IDGAF but actually spend 20 minutes on my eyeliner to make it look like I slept in my mascara and just didn't bother to clean it up.” I’m saying I have no problem air-drying my hair, sketching on some eyeliner (if I feel like it), and walking out the door — frizz and uneven lines be damned — without giving it a second thought. I do what I want.
Now, this isn’t to be confused with apathy about beauty, or looking presentable in general. I like makeup. I like playing with my hair. I get legitimately excited about nail polish. I understand the importance of looking somewhat professional, and not like I just crawled out of a sewer pipe after a one-night stand with a Ninja Turtle. (Raphael, call me.) To me, Lazy Girl guides are a way to combine those loves and needs with my aversion to complicated, time-wasting, flat-out boring pursuits. I’ve got better things to do.
And, while we’re at it, I'd like the online publications that do half-ass it on those guides to stop insulting my intelligence with "hacks" that are so well-known that embryos already have them ingrained in their tiny developing brains. It was obvious when you first presented it, and it’s equally self-evident now. I’ve got zero time for that kind of basic fuckery.
So, my challenge to beauty lovers everywhere is to embrace the Lazy — but don’t be lazy about it. Seek out info that actually helps you be a better you in a more efficient way, and reject all the BS and belittling commentary. Remember, Lazy isn’t an insult — it’s a way of life.