Look, I'm not judging.
Just this weekend my friends sent me pictures of me at their respective 21st parties and sweet Lord, the actual hack of me. I look like I have escaped from somewhere. Allow me be more precise. I look like I have escaped from a giant pot of glitter where I have hidden away from the sun for years with no company other than a really sharp pair of tweezers which I used every day to remove any trace of eyebrows.
Luckily for me, however, these exist only in hard copy (and now in a Whatsapp group of horror). Teenagers today have every moment chronicled on social media; in fact, to paraphrase Thom Yorke in a way that he was never meant to paraphrased, they do it to themselves and that's what really hurts.
Step up, young Brooklyn Beckham, who has shown us all how he has graduated from man bun to plait.
Mind you, he was at Coachella and sure it's practically mandatory embrace the braid at festivals.
He'll probably be sporting a flower crown next weekend.
But then if you don't look back at your teenage self with some degree of raised eyebrow, well, you probably didn't do it right.
Anything you'd like to share? Any ex-glitter pot comrades out there who will admit to it?