If a bankrupt reality star can become president, why can’t Lady Liberty reinvent herself?
7:00am: Woke up feeling like a queen. Use my morning routine as a hype session, mentally and emotionally preparing myself to throw down in the name of Beyoncé-endorsed athleisure outfits.
8:00am: Make a hero’s breakfast (egg whites and sriracha). Eat lean protein while chanting “a diva is a female version of a hustler” over and over. Boyfriend is appropriately terrified.
8:15am: Take my dog for a walk and pick up after him. I may be a diva, but I’m not a dick.
9:12am: Arrive at my office in downtown Chicago. Avoid eye contact with every employee entering my office building. I’m in the zone.
9:52am: Bail early on a meeting so I can get in line at the Nordstrom on Michigan Ave.
9:58am: Saunter into Nordstrom. Am immediately horrified, as the store looks like it’s been open for the last three hours. Beyoncé is basically taunting me.
9:59am: Have an actual panic attack on the escalator to the 4th floor (WHY!?), where they are installing her collection.
10:01am: Pop off the escalator elbows out. I am so ready.
10:02am: Realize that there are only about 15 other women here, and they are all behaving like reasonable human beings. Freeze in place to ensure that my Beyoncé-rage stays in check.
10:04am: Start shopping. I am offered help by at least four sales associates who are clearly waiting for the crazy-dam to break on this calm group of shoppers. I can literally smell their fear (and their jealousy; they aren’t allowed to buy anything from the collection until 1pm).
10:15am: Enter dressing room. Everything is black, white, and grey. This is my Mecca. I have seen God, and her name is Beyoncé.
10:25am: Start bonding with the other ten women in the dressing room. We are swapping outfits and telling each other how good we look. This has been a real rollercoaster of emotions.
10:53am: Make my Sophie’s Choice about what I’m going to buy. I might have to come back later for a pair of the softest shorts I’ve ever touched. Say goodbye to my new best friends and head to the check out.
11:02am: Basically dance out of the store.
11:03am: Thank myself for being smart enough to order the signature body suit online at midnight last night. That thing was already gone when I got there.
11:04am: Thank Beyoncé for encouraging all of us to embrace our inner professional dancer, and dress accordingly.
Becca Stahl is Content Development Manager at Second City Works.