In my 23 years of being a woman, I have had a total of 29 different roommates and a social circle with more personalities than I can count on two hands. I actually can’t get through this entire blog post without bursting out laughing because not only are these different types of girls all completely based off of my friends, but honestly, I’ve probably been at least 4 out of the 5 types of girls in this post, sometimes all 5 in one night. Disclaimer: I love to make fun of myself, and my species as a woman, if we all can’t agree we are all annoyingly dramatic, overly sensitive, and funny as hell then what fun is that?! Let’s just get right into it.
So, it’s a Thursday.
Savannah is in her last class of the day, and her group chat is blowing the fuck up about what everyone is wearing tonight, where the pregame is, what drunk food everyone will be violently throwing up tomorrow, and who’s bed everyone plans on ending up in.
She start to get a little angsty.
A separate message comes through from one of her roommates.
“Hey girl, can I borrow your white body suit tonight?”
She just fucking bought, this damn. Body suit.
At this point her leg is starting to shake at an annoying rhythm and she just wants to stop half listening to her Bio lecture so she can get the fuck home and exfoliate her body, so her St. Tropez doesn’t streak off in Brad’s bed again later. Savannah also needs to get home so she can hide her white body suit before Chloe realizes it’s actually not in the wash (Savannah, you lying selfish skeeze).
Class ends and Savannah yanks her MacBook charger out from the wall and sprints to her car, Savannah can NOT afford another fucking parking ticket; Satan may work hard, but campus police works harder. When she gets in her car, she realizes she missed the last 45 text exchanges in the group chat and hasn’t been acknowledged ONCE in the past FIFTEEN minutes. Suddenly Savannah feels super fucking left out you guys…. and the idea of going out no longer sounds fun, it sounds like a lot of W O R K.
Girl Type #1: “It’s okay guys, I’m just going to stay in tonight.”
Sav is always late…. And like not the kind of late from sleeping too long or being too busy. Savannah does this shit to herself and dicks around all the time only to want to just play victim in the end because No OnE wAiTeD fOr HeR. Savannah is stressed out right now because class just got out and all her friends are chatting it up and haven’t asked why she’s been mute. Savannah doesn’t realize that her friends are well aware she’s in fucking class and also wish Savannah would stop being so damn dramatic all the time and just go with the damn flowwwww baby. Savannah is the girl who will drag herself home, and instead of getting ready, and jumping right into the pregame festivities, Savannah will sulk and take way too much time washing her hair so everyone can feel bad for her and bargain and beg for her to come out, offering up all possible reasons why they want her there. News flash Savannah, you were wanted out the entire time, you just wanted to play victim because you weren’t the center of attention for five seconds and don’t feel ~included~ and need a good old ego stroke. This gets exhausting hunnies we got hair to curl and White Claws to drink we don’t have TIME to play Dr. Phil right now. Don’t be a Savannah. Put some dry shampoo in and suck. It. Up.
Girl Type #2: “Nothing looks good on me right now.”
We’re going to call this one Allison because I’m honestly running out of names to use that aren’t already taken by real people in my life lmao. Ally is your healthy friend. She’s at the gym at the crack ass of dawn Monday-Friday and probably takes Pilates as an elective (fuckin’ try hard lmaooo). Al loves her athleisure wear and drinks water out of a mason jar because the glass is ~better~ than your peasant plastic bottle, and all drinkware bias aside, Allison honestly looks amazing. Ally may be the most fit heavy drinking person you know, but our good friend Al has the confidence of a small rock. She will get all ready, do her hair, her makeup, crack a white claw or two and take to her closet for something to go with tonight’s ~vibe~. After 35 minutes of trying on the same four things, you will find Ally in her bed, with her robe on, and scrolling silently through her instagram feed. You try and ask Ally wtf she’s doing because you already know this repetitive stunt, but Ally says she’s “just taking a break.” You come back 10 minutes later, and Ally is huffing in her bed, praying you’ll ask her the question that she really wants to answer. “Ally what are you wearing tonight.” Ally will look at you with absolute psycho in her eyes and tell you she “DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW BECAUSE NOTHINGLOOKSGOODONMERIGHTNOW I’M STAYING IN.” To sum up this annoying fucking story, you tell Ally she looks amazing five million times and stroke her ego off just as good as you did for Savannah an hour ago and all is good in the world. Ally goes out. In outfit choice one. For the love of fucking god.
Girl Type #3: “My hair is wet, I’m wearing flats, can someone hold my wallet in your purse”
Here my friends is your girl in charge of dealing with the Savannah’s and the Allison’s of your friend group. Bridget here does not care. Bridget could roll up to the bar two hours later than her entire crew in a T-shirt and would not have any different of a night. Bridget rolls with the punches, takes all the shots, dances to all the songs, and does not really have much of an expectation for how her evening should play out. Will she end up at the corner taco stand at 2 am? Will she fuck her ex Brad again for the 55th time this week? Bridget doesn’t really give a fuck, her worth ain’t dependent on dick, dollar doubles, or ditzy mean girls. You do you Bridget, we respect your carefree ass.
Girl Type #4: “Does this lingerie go with my Gucci belt?”
Alright this by far is my fucking favorite. We’re calling her Monica. Monica will not let herself address the fact that her college town is in the middle of a corn field. Monica will pregame with champagne, order fluffy jackets off of Shein and wear them year-round, and buy rounds of shots for boys as if anyone will remember, or care in the morning. Homegirl skipped the hoe phase of body con skirts and crop tops and made her fit of choice lacey ass lingerie with high waisted jeans, opened toed shoes in the middle of winter, and a Gucci belt. Monica might order bottle service at her college’s only club, and amongst the flashing lights and dark atmosphere, Monica will seek out her next victim to lure in with the lingerie bodysuit, only to bring him home, throw on an oversized fraternity T-shirt instead and hang her lingerie up for next weekend’s bar night.
Girl Type #5: The crackhead.
I’m literally not even going to pretend like this type of girl is anyone else than the name I’m about to use for girl type #5… Hannah getting ready is a sight that will stress you out so badly, that you’ll become an Allison and lock yourself in your room all night. Hannah will try on thirty different outfits, make her entire room look like a tornado touched down in her closet, and she will curl her hair only to then straighten it again, and then end up just washing it and starting over because she messed up too many times. Hannah will have a plan for her evening and change it 15 times by the time the Uber gets called. Han will run around the house during the entire pregame because she’s so excited for the same routine bar night her and her friends do every Thursday and she will probably change her outfit one more time for good measure. Once at the bar, Hannah will be gone. Like actually. You will not see Hannah for entire hour blocks of time only to rediscover her around 1 am absolutely annihilated and with people she does not fucking know. “They’re her new FrIeNdS.” Someone get Hannah a leash.
So, whether you’re Savannah, Allison, Monica, Bridget, Hannah, or all five, let your freak flag fly. A night out isn’t complete without an alcohol induced pep talk, a proper wardrobe melt down, a carefree ass bitch, Gucci belts, or the Hannah’s of the world.
Cheers to Thirsty Thursday’s, and cheers to all the insane people we surround ourselves with that we call our friends. It takes one to know one 😉
xoxo,
Carlie Bradshaw
Sex & The Suburbs 