And I thought I was imagining it.
I didn't always like makeup; to be forthright, I thought it was evil. I nourished this misguided, naive belief that if I tried really, really hard I could be a tomboy—one of those cool, athletic, independent, sassy gals—even though I possessed none of the qualifications for such a status.
What do I mean by "tried"? Well, that means having no interest in fashion. Fashion is a no-no. Tomboys live in comfy boys' tees (Luke's castoffs) and denim. Since jeans were not an option, my selection was a shapeless Biz skirt. Once fashion is flagellated, so is makeup.
I spat on mascara. I snapped eye pencils in two. I vilified lipstick.
But I was merely attempting to play a role that was not me. As my shield wall began to weakly drop, bit by bit fashion coaxed its way into my life. Garment by garment, my wardrobe morphed into something more palatable and reflective of me. Product by product, my bathroom counters became delightfully cluttered.
I don't wear makeup because I'm trying to get a man, or because that's how I get respect, or because I have an unhealthy body-image based on magazines and Barbies. It's a call from deep within, a bowel-entrenched desire to buff pink powder onto my cheeks.
I don't understand why others gleefully run marathons, joyously tackle day-long cassoulet recipes, or voluntarily watch horror movies. But I don't think they do because they are metaphorically fleeing unhappy memories, are roiling in an unhealthy relationship with food, or are flirting with the idea of being sucked into hell by a demon released from a doll, respectively.
I'm not going to apologize for this.
I don't understand why others gleefully run marathons, joyously tackle day-long cassoulet recipes, or voluntarily watch horror movies. But I don't think they do because they are metaphorically fleeing unhappy memories, are roiling in an unhealthy relationship with food, or are flirting with the idea of being sucked into hell by a demon released from a doll, respectively.
I'm not going to apologize for this.
2 comments:
I usually get away with the cheap drugstore brand Rimel London mascara for about $5 a tube. It seems to work for my lashes just fine. But then again, I've never had anything expensive to compare it to.
I love how you are passionate about makeup without being obsessed, and although many celebrities are doing the 'bare' look these days, I don't believe they are truly without a stitch of makeup. And it's inevitable for most women, so you may as well take the time to do it right.
"I love how you are passionate about makeup without being obsessed."
I was really touched by that, because that is exactly what I'm going for!
It's not like I dream in eye shadows. I just really enjoy painting on a Face, and if I share with others what works for me, and learn from others what works for them, I'm not trying to ram it down anyone's throat. But I get irritated when my intelligence is questioned because I think Sephora is a magical place.
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