XO Zuzi

First Days with My French Bob

After removing my hair extensions and eyelash extensions, everything suddenly felt very… real. The first few days were a little strange. I would catch my reflection and pause for a moment, almost as if I needed time to recognize myself again. I felt lighter, more exposed, a bit out of my usual comfort zone. And yet,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ underneath that unfamiliar feeling,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ there was something surprisingly pleasant.

What I loved the most was the sense of relief. The feeling that I didn’t have to keep up with anything anymore. No maintenance schedules, no constant checking, no quiet pressure in the back of my mind. Just me, as I am, moving through my days. Washing my hair became quick and simple, almost meditative. Styling it took minutes, not effort. There was something very freeing in that simplicity.

The lashes were a slightly different story. Suddenly, mascara became part of my mornings again. At first, it felt like extra work, something I wasn’t used to anymore. For the first few days, I didn’t wear any mascara at all. I honestly felt a bit like a bird without feathers –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ vulnerable, unfinished, unsure.

But then something shifted. 💫

I started using a lash growth serum, and little by little, I began to feel more comfortable with my natural face. And here’s something I didn’t expect: when you really get used to yourself without makeup, even something as simple as mascara becomes powerful. The contrast is beautiful. The effect is WOW. I genuinely recommend experiencing that –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ allowing yourself to be bare, and then choosing enhancement instead of hiding.

At that point, I felt good. Calm. And most importantly, I felt pretty to myself. That quiet, private feeling of liking what you see –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ even when no one else is watching. That matters more than anything.

Life otherwise went on in its usual rhythm. Errands. The gym. Coffee with friends. And also coffee just with myself, because we absolutely deserve our own company too. I had a photoshoot with my photographer friend (get excited, photos coming soon). I ate lots of good food –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ I caught a cold, and pho has once again proven to be both comfort and medicine.

And to finish this whole French bob chapter properly, I painted my nails and toes red. A small detail, but it somehow tied everything together. A quiet nod to the whole French-girl moment I seem to be living right now.

Tell me –⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ what have you been up to lately?
I really mean it. I’d love to know.

XO, Zuzi ✨

February 03, 2026

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LIFESTYLE

A Freestyle Scrapbooking Session

Last time I wrote about scrapbooking, it was from that familiar place of excitement mixed with good intentions. You know the kind – new notebook, a clear vision, a spark… and then life happens and the notebook stays half-empty.

This time felt different. 👯‍♀️✨

I spent an afternoon scrapbooking with my best friend. We’ve been friends for over 15 years now – two adult women, no kids, just a shared love for creating things, talking (or not talking), and being fully ourselves together. There’s something deeply comforting about that kind of friendship. No performing. No explaining. Just womanhood, sisterhood, and a quiet “I’ve got you.”

This meetup was a freestyle scrapbooking session. No rules, no pressure, no outcome in mind. Just paper, glue, scissors, stickers, old magazines, washi tapes, memories, and whatever wanted to emerge. And it was so good that we decided to give this ritual a bit of structure going forward: every next session will have a theme. I’ll come up with one and my friend Veronika will bring her own topic as well. I can already feel how special this is going to become. A tradition.

We’re also… very much obsessed with stationery. Stickers, papers, notebooks, washi tapes – you name it. Buying these things is almost a hobby on its own. And usually, I start a new notebook with big dreams and never quite finish it. But something clicked this time. Knowing we’ll meet every month, that there’s time dedicated just for this, just for us, makes it feel doable. Lighter. Real.

Some things are surprisingly hard to do alone. Even the things you love. Having a friend – a true partner in crime – changes everything.

I baked a pie. We had coffee. Her cute little pooch “helped” us by sitting directly on my notebook and insisting on being part of the process (obviously). We scrapbooked for hours. Sometimes chatting, sometimes completely silent. Time flew by in that gentle, almost sacred way it does when you’re fully present and safe in someone’s company.

When we finally stopped, we both felt good. Calm. Filled up.

So this is me saying it out loud, for myself and for you:

Do this more often. Create with your friends. Make time for hobbies that don’t need to make money or sense. Sit together in silence. Let dogs sit on your notebooks. Romanticize these moments.

I highly recommend it. 💛

XO, Zuzi

February 03, 2026

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OUTFITS

Feeling Like the French Girls

There’s something about French girls that feels almost unfair. As if they were born with a quiet manual the rest of us never received. They somehow know how to look great even on their worst days. Feminine without trying to be sexy. Chic without being polished. Magnetic without being loud. No heavy makeup, no performance, no urgency to be desired – just presence.

Lately, that presence has become my icon. My current ideal. The nonchalant French girl who knows exactly what she’s doing and doesn’t need anything fake to feel bomb. 💣 It didn’t really start with a haircut, but the haircut made it visible. My hair was damaged, tired, overworked, so I cut it. A refresh on the surface, but underneath it felt like a reset. A quiet decision to let go of something that no longer felt like me.

In therapy, my therapist asked why the change, why the cut. I gave her the practical answer first – damaged hair, a need for refresh. Then the real one followed almost without thinking: I don’t feel like a sex symbol anymore, I feel like a French girl. She smiled and said it was interesting, because French girls somehow just know how to look feminine and magnificent even without makeup. And that, she said, is a sex symbol itself.

That sentence stayed with me. Somewhere along the way, we got it wrong. We learned that femininity had to be loud, perfected, exaggerated, consumable. That being desirable meant being constantly on, constantly performing softness, beauty, effort. Filtered, polished, explained. We didn’t lose our sensuality – we outsourced it. Overthought it. We got lobotomized.

The French girl doesn’t ask for permission to be attractive. She doesn’t chase validation or perform confidence. She doesn’t try to be effortless – she simply allows things to be a little undone. She walks, exists, lets herself take up space without apology. And that’s exactly where I find myself right now.

I’ve been strolling through Prague with a new camera, capturing small moments – a coat falling just right, messy hair in cold air, a beret, reflections in windows, quiet streets. No posing, no trying, just observing. Just being. I think I’ve found myself in this look, in this energy. Less “look at me,” more “I know.” Less sex symbol, more woman. And paradoxically, that feels more powerful than anything I’ve worn before.

I met an old friend the other day. We chatted for a bit, nothing deep, just life in passing. And when we said goodbye, he paused, looked at me, and said: “Wow, I love this era for you. Very ‘I cut my hair and remembered who I am.’ Chic, reflective, a little rebellious. Very French-girl-who-knows.” And honestly, that might be the most accurate mirror I’ve been handed in a long time.

XO, Zuzi

February 03, 2026

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MIND

I changed my haircut. And more than that.

Yes, I cut my hair. I removed the extensions. And I also took off my lash extensions. Not because of a crisis, not because something went wrong, but because one day I simply felt a very clear urge to let it all go. It was one of those moments when you don’t overthink, you just know. And for me, that moment felt right. ✨

I want to be clear about one thing though – I loved my old look. The long hair, the volume, the lashes that did half the talking for me. It was beautiful, it was fun, and it definitely had its era. I’m not here to say it was fake or wrong. It wasn’t. But looking back, I realize I was maintaining an image of someone I didn’t fully feel like.

This isn’t a dramatic goodbye forever. I’m not saying I’ll never have extensions again, or that I’m suddenly anti-beauty or anti-glam. Maybe one day I’ll want it all back. The difference is that next time, I want it to come from a different place. Not from habit, not from expectation, not from “this is how I should look,” but from a genuine want for all the good reasons.

Right now, I’m choosing to fully accept what I have. My fine hair that will probably never grow into long lengths no matter how patient I am. My eyelashes that are actually just fine the way they are. I’m learning to accept both the good and the bad parts of myself, without constantly trying to improve, fix or hide them.

There’s also a very practical side to this decision. Extensions are expensive and time-consuming. Every two months, nearly 250 USD just to move them back to the roots (and it means a full day of sitting in a chair at my hairstylist). Lash refills every three to four weeks for another 50 USD (2 hours work). Add the appointments, the maintenance, the constant planning around it – and suddenly you realize how much mental space it takes up. Life genuinely feels so much easier without it.

I feel lighter. Happier. More like myself. I wake up, get ready faster, and don’t feel like I’m constantly maintaining something. And honestly? That freedom feels really good.

I don’t know what the future holds. I’m unsure, and that’s okay. All I know is that at this moment, this decision feels right. And sometimes that’s all you need. Everything real has to come from within anyway — the rest is just decoration.

XO, Zuzi 🌼