Chels’s Locked Journal

I’m writing about girlhood, poetry, food, fashion and thoughts I tend to overthink about.

UK based, orange admirer.

Sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh.

This is a personal blog. Kindness is expected throughout. This is meant to be a soft, learning space.

I wont entertain grown adults.

If this isn’t your flair, that’s alright.

Airs of love drifted around the two cordial women. One turned to the other admire and affection dripping from each look while a gentle touch shared between the two. A glimmer in her eyes and adoration hers; almost like a match made in the heavens although we all know heaven would simply not allow this pair to be.

tick tock. the clock is antagonisng me each second. my eyes are droopy blurring my vision making me come in and out of consciousness. I also hope you know the concealer I put on every day beofre school to fight my battles is currenlty losing and gosh I am so fucked.

mauve skys sit outside the tempered glass while my powder bronzer is spreading dust across my makeup bag and gosh im coughing the pigmented dust out of my mouth. My cheek pigment in the colour rouge lights my face in a way i wish was similar to my life. I cried all night, but now im trusting my cosmetics to not make my face look all puffy. A swish of my mascara on my eyes for a whispy effect and concealer to conceal away the memories of sadness. People often mistake makeup for vanity but the thing is I'm not full of vain just empowerment. My lip gloss is shiny with the perfect hint of brown and pink mixed together to create a yummy shade for my skin tone. I look in the mirror and i'm flattered with what i've done to my face. All the time ive spent watching youtube makeup tutorials have payed off.

Getting ready has alway's been sacred to me. The act of getting ready is more than just the makeup, hair, and outfit.....it's about feeling.

feeling put together and feeling ready is a distraction from all the messed up things that might be happening in your life. There is something calming about precisley putting on eyeliner on your lid, the full pigment of the eyeshadow, the contour across your cheekbones to seem sharper than you actually are. You start to get familiar with the type of makeup that suits your face instead of the situations that cause these dramatic makeup looks. A repeated routine for things that are always repeated for example school. Oh how it would be fun to wear the sunset inspired eyeshadow to school but then I remember the social setting I am standing in.

Makeup doesnt just exist to impress others and people alway's missue the purpose of makeup. Simply makeup is a way to evolve throughout the years. As you grow so does the makeup you wear from the shy minimalistic look you wore everywhere when you started to the now full fledged face of makeup that involves a bold lip. The hours i spent watching different youtubers use techniques and brushes I only imagined what would look like on me and now here I am. A teenager who can look at an eye tutorial and somewhat ace it.

These stupid seats are uncomfortable.

Snap. Click. Shot. Flash.

Teenage girls archive themeselves in a forever time capsule without noticing it. Their storage is full with a bunch of memorys staying stagnant unlike their social lives and that is ultimately what makes every picture and memory so glamorous. Blurry photos, silly mugs, messy poses which are so ugly but yet I can't find myself to delete them. A pinterest board named "makeup inpo" is in my saved boards right next to "summer outfits!". All things important and precious to me and right next to the pinterest app on my phone there lies spotify waiting for me to open it and put my "summer vibes" playlist on. Playlists become emotions that tune in and out of my mind while my saved boards become ideas to further exagerate.

I have had the privilege that not many other people may had of watching myself grow and evolve through the memorys of a silly sqyare block called my phone. The internet doesnt only live on without us but also lives with us. That is beautiful. We are beatiful. I sometimes look back on photos and old account from years ago and i strongly believe I am growing and evolving every single day to become the person future me looks back on thorugh those messy wierd photos and admire them. I have changed aesthetics frequetly because of the hurricane that swirls which is social media and in that hurricane i found who I am and what I admire. Different profile pictures, playlists, mood boards and silly tiktok trend all curated together to form me.

A digital scrapbook.

The true me without social interference.

I documented myself without even knowing and it and I damn sure love it. I used to find all those old photos cringy but now I find them endearing because I was a different person then and now im a different in the present. Online spaces are treasure boxes and once you open specific boxes those crystal gems shine a different memory into your eye which can ony make you grin and your eyes soften. The internet remembers pieces of me I thought I had forgotten. Those old reposts that told my emotions louder than I could communicate them and those screenshots on snapchat of my friends texting nonsense. I could never delete or should I say stash away any of these treasure boxes because everything inside is too precouse.