Retro Breakdown: How 1960’s Sunglasses Kept Me Delulu and Divine

I don’t remember what set me off. A deadline. A text. Hormones. The general horror of existing.
But I grabbed my giant sunglasses, slicked on some gloss, and suddenly I could breathe again.
Because sometimes you don’t need a plan. You just need a look.

Make it stand out

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Mercury is in retrograde, the cosmos are malfunctioning, and technology is gaslighting all of us.
If you know, you know.

If you don’t know… you still know—because nothing is working, and every relationship is revealing its true essence.

We’re all having mini breakdowns.

But instead of being perceived as a hot mess, let’s reframe it.

In the middle of a breakdown, I don’t want to be perceived—I want to be understood.
But barring that, I’ll take not making eye contact and looking incredible in line at Trader Joe’s.

The sunglasses say: I’m unraveling, but with taste.

And if I’m wearing eyeliner? Game over. In my head, I’m on the cover of every magazine I grew up worshipping. I can’t even run errands without it. Because the truth is—I don’t just want to disappear.
I want to be seen.

Fully. Dramatically. Delusionally.

Being a visionary means holding that tension: hiding and performing, disappearing and showing up like paparazzi are waiting. It’s theatrical survival.

You paint the fantasy until the fantasy starts painting you back.