“What's a glamour enabler?!” I asked, instantly intrigued. “Glamour” and “enabler” both trigger a glittery, dangerous feeling inside of me. A feeling that I greatly enjoy.
We were at an event called “Big Gay Brunch,” which was hosted by a fabulous man in a dress clad in a chic, black asymmetrical dress, mega-heels and lashes for days.
Not only was our host glam AF, but our waiter was a bronzy, Greek god type with ethereal sea foam green eyes and abs so defined they were visible through his tiny white tank. I looked around and noticed that every single waiter (all men) looked like a gorgeous supermodel. I silently thanked the universe once again that I'm a lesbian, and don't have to be held to the same impossible standards of beauty that my gay brothers are held to.
I took a sip of my champagne, breathed in the intoxicating scent of the Southern California wild flowers and stabbed at my eggs Florentine.
“Frankie! What's a glamour enabler!?” I asked again.
“Sorry," Frankie said. "There are a LOT of distractions here. Anyway, it's the friend who enables you to do glamorous things, like take a limo instead of a taxi, or get a hotel room when you're at the hotel bar even if your apartment is just down the block.”
I laughed. “Oh. So basically, you and me?”
He was right. Frankie and I couldn't just attend a regular brunch. We had to go to a fabulous, lavish, flamboyant brunch with drag queens and $50 egg Florentines. Yeah, we were definitely Glamour Enablers.
I began to think about all the different types of enablers there are in this world. We all have those friends, those “bad influence” friends, that help tap us into the dark side. We like to blame them for our exorbitant bar tabs, terrible hangovers or toxic hookups, but really, we wouldn't have done any of those BAD things if we didn't ~want to~. You know?
We love a bad influence because they're just pulling out what we really wanted to do. So here are 8 types of bad influences WE LOVE.
The Glamour Enabler
Like I said, I'm a total glamour enabler. Which means I will encourage you to do the most glamorous thing, regardless of price, comfort or convenience.
I don't care if those sky-high velvet platforms hurt your poor feet, they're GLAM, BABY, so you should wear them. I don't care if you're going to be the most overdressed person at the party, I will convince you to throw on the faux fur shrug, bodycon dress, false lashes and red lipstick just because I want you to look like a glamorous vixen.
I might annoy you, but you can't shake me because you know when you're with me, you will only sit at the best table in the best restaurant in all of New York, indulging in only the finest oysters and washing those succulent bad boys down with an expensive bottle of champagne.
Oh, and you will get looks of glam envy from everyone in the room. I'm helping you tap into your inner glam, darling. Don't pretend like you don't like it.
The Drug Enabler
There is always that ONE friend who has to take an innocent night out on the town to the NEXT LEVEL.
You'll be heavily boozing and having the night of your life until this friend suggests tossing some drugs into the mix. Maybe it's weed, maybe it's Adderall, maybe it's dirty speed snorted through the nostrils -- whatever. Don't act prim.
We all have a drug enabling friend in our lives (well, maybe not all of us do, but everyone I know does. Then again, I run in questionable circles). This is an enabler we all just love to hate.
However, no one forced you spend half the night in the bathroom, did they now? So let's not place blame here, but rather look in the mirror and gaze at our own sordid reflections.
The Sh*t Talk Enabler
I have friends who make me feel horrible when I sh*t talk. You know, the types that will just lower their innocent doe eyes and say things like, “Zara, I don't feel comfortable talking bad about her.”
After which I will feel like the scum of the earth who wants to crawl into a dark dirty hole and DIE.
But sometimes, I just want to indulge in salacious, terrible, MEAN gossip. And when I feel this way, I call my sh*t talk enabler friends. I don't have to initiate the sh*t talk, because I know he or she will. And the next thing I know, I'm saying terrible, terrible things.
The Taxi Cab Enabler
I'm a total taxi enabler. Half my selfies have been taken in the back of Ubers.
In fact, the longer I write this, the more I realize I'm a huge f*cking enabler. Oops, my bad.
“Zara, the TRAIN IS RIGHT HERE,” my editor and close friend Alexia will demand in her authoritative, editor-ish manner.
“Girl, you're wearing a gorgeous one-shouldered dress. You can't get on the SUBWAY in that. It's not even safe. Plus I'm not going to teeter in 9-inch heels on the f*cking subway. I don't feel like falling to my death and I don't want you to get groped in that outfit!” I will say, making a very just case.
Next thing you know, Alexia and I are splitting a $75 Uber ride from the Upper East Side to Park Slope on a Thursday night. She gets mad when she sees the bill, but she could've said no if she really wanted to take the train, right?
The Hook-Up Enabler
My best friend Ruba is a total hook-up enabler. When we were younger, I would look at her with big, mascara-adorned eyes and say, “RUBES, should I HOOK UP with her? I think it's a bad idea. I'm DRUNK.”
“Girl, that's all the more reason to do it. We're younnnng! DO IT!” she would command, looking too chic and fierce in her romper to say no to.
The next thing I know, I'm waking up with embarrassing flashes of a regretful dance floor hookup. (Yes, a dance floor hookup. What can I say? I'm a sinful gay).
The Ex Relapse Enabler
At some point, we've all invited an ex-relapse enabler in our lives. This is the person you know will totally encourage you to text your ex later in the evening. We can't blame them. We invited them out because we were yearning for a little ex sex.
I don't condone ex sex, as I've said many times. However, this poor little enabler isn't to be blamed. YOU ARE.
The Body Modification Enabler
I might be one of these, too, so ... SORRY, I'M NOT SORRY.
I'm the friend who will always convince you to cut bangs, get a tattoo or pierce your nose. I just know that when you're in your late 50s you will regret NOT doing it, you know? I'm just doing you a sweet favor, baby.
The Late Night Eating Enabler
This might be my favorite enabler of all. I love a good late-night binge session, and there is a hungry girl inside of me screaming for food at 1 am after I've come back from the bar.
Which is why I only really like to party with my older brother, Blake. Blake has enabled me on some of my most memorable binge sessions.
“It's too late for cake, we will hate ourselves tomorrow!” I've slurred to him once we were safe and sound at home.
“Oh, come on, Z. Life is too short to NOT eat the cake. I'm going to eat this entire box of cereal!” he will boast without an ounce of remorse.
The next thing I know, I will have consumed an entire chocolate cake in one sitting. And you know what the best part is? I get to satisfy my irrepressible chocolate cake craving and totally blame him for it.
“BLAKE, WHY THE HELL DID YOU FORCE ME TO EAT THE CAKE LAST NIGHT, YOU ASSH*LE!" I will scream to him the next morning.
“No one put a gun to your head and forced you to eat the entire cake, Zara.”
And he's right. That should be the title of my god damn memoir: “No One Forced You To Eat The Cake, Zara: A Life Spent Blaming Enablers.”
Our enablers represent all the parts of ourselves that we keep buried down inside. They are the voice in our heads that we desperately try to stifle.
And you know what? Enablers sort of healthy. I don't believe in living a fitness-model-Instagram-perfect lifestyle. I think it's good to be a little ~bad~ sometimes. I mean, our enablers are helping our lives become less dismal and more colorful! They are helping us cultivate sinful stories that will make for excellent material in our memoirs one day.
Am I the enabler enabler? Maybe. But, hey, I've been called much, much worse.