A Letter to the Influencer Who Thinks I Can Do Pilates at 1pm

Photo by Patrick Malleret on Unsplash

 

Hi babybotoxlifter,

I hope this letter finds you in the midst of a groundbreaking, spirit-awakening culinary creation involving oats. Just thought I’d take some time out of my day to write to you; I’m exhausted after spending nine hours in front of a computer screen, so apologies if you see any typos.

First, let me start by expressing my deepest admiration for your morning routine, your ability to redefine breakfast entirely. The way you do it is so *chefs kiss*; from the freshest ingredients straight from Waitrose, to the way you ethereally put the dish together. I would never have thought it could improve my mental health to slow right down and take the time to procure a healthy, nutritious bowl; your invention of turmeric oats with lashings of agave syrup, hemp seeds and dragon fruit seems nothing short of a masterpiece that makes for a transcendental experience. And well done for discovering cinnamon sprinkled over apples – ground-breaking! I don’t believe anybody has thought of anything so innovative before, so thank you for showing us all about it in your perfectly posed selfie video.

Unfortunately, as I peel my eyelids apart and stumble out of bed at 5:30am, my morning is less magical. Most days I can only muster a  quick, sad, film-topped coffee before I jolt out of the door to catch a train that smells of sweaty gym socks. Sometimes I manage buttered toast, if I’m feeling fancy.

I also applaud your commitment to dragging yourself away from the comfort of your post-breakfast reading time in your perfectly made cream bed to then reposition your camera in your pilates studio. Your very own pilates studio! I wish I didn’t have to share a gym with sweaty men who grunt during every rep. When the clock strikes 1pm, I am not donned in a cute, matching gym set. Instead, I find myself sat at a hot desk (that I had to book three weeks ago to secure, mind you!) convincing myself this £5 prawn cocktail sandwich from M&S was worth sacrificing a flat white from Caffe Nero for the office beans. In this moment, I am not gracefully extending opposing legs and arms and letting go of all negative thoughts. Instead, I find myself thinking this could have been an email. I could have been spared the torture of being trapped in a conversation about your children if you had just emailed me but saying ‘oh, I can’t believe it’s Monday again already! Honestly, where does the time go.’

Occupational health advises us to get away from the desk for our lunch breaks, as it’s supposedly fabulous for our wellbeing. I’m glad you’re able to do that – though I’m not too sure if it counts when you’re still poring your eyes over a phone screen to film your session for TikTok? I imagine that must be a gruelling activity, you poor thing. It’s nice to share the same struggles with someone who has a cockapoo and a specific hair style for the gym. ‘Do these four exercises if you want to be snatched!’ you say on a newly released midday video where I can see the outline of your bum pads. I’m trying, honestly, but I think the office coffee machine is wreaking havoc on my stomach instead of sculpting it.

It really takes guts to be so young, slim, and carefree.  Your fearless documentation of your entire life, from your morning avocado toast until your night time bed slippers, is an inspiration for the rest of us who allow ourselves to be consumed by the tediousness of a real job. You’ve shown us the light; life doesn’t have to be like this. What truly impresses me is your ability to endorse a plethora of products – many of which I’m sure end up in your chic wastebasket after filming. I am sure you have a part to play in the fact that my once-affordable retinol has almost doubled in price after becoming so sought after through your magic words of wisdom; just last week I saw a teenager splurging her pocket money on it. She left the shop bright-eyed and happy, unlike those of us who think about how many hours of work we just blew on a single 30ml tube. I can only thank you for your sage advice, for telling us exactly which products we need every week; I was so sure I had found my ideal skin routine for the last few years, but you’ve introduced me to things I thought were out of fashion! Silly me. I’m sure my face absolutely needs the £50 cream and that it has nothing to do with the teeny tiny “#ad” written in the top corner of the screen and hidden between hashtags of #skincare #lifestyle #treatyourself #bossbitch #skintok.

I want to extend a final thank you. Thank you for all you have done for us in the 9-5 world. Thank you for reminding us that life isn’t all Excel and timesheets through your refreshing and curated instagram feed. I am grateful that we have a shining beacon of light just a simple scroll away, you and the thousands of other gymshark-clad, avocado banging influencers.

Wishing you all the strength and perseverance in the world,

A woman who wears mismatched clothes to the gym.


Now playing: You’re So Vain – Carly Simon

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