This morning I put my make-up on as usual. I was rushing around, when I suddenly stopped for a second to think about why I wear make-up every single day.
I’ve worn it since I was 15 years old. Compared to today’s standards, that’s quite late to commence painting my face. I didn’t start because of any great urge to be pretty or to appeal to the opposite sex, it was just to make me feel more confident.
I remember marching into Boots with a short-list of must-haves (procured from Cosmo magazine obviously) and quick-walking home to try them all out. Clumsily applying foundation, brushing on far too much blush and committing the cardinal sin of not plucking my eyebrows before using the taupe-coloured pencil. Actually it would be a couple of years before said eyebrows were introduced to tweezers. I know, I’m building up a beautiful picture…
Twenty years and one baby later I can count on one, well, maybe two hands, the number of times I’ve gone sans make-up. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have an intricate routine. I don’t watch YouTube videos on the latest looks (I should, I’m stuck in mid-90’s mode) and I don’t constantly re-apply throughout the day. However, every morning I do put make-up on. Hubster often questions why I’m doing it, especially if we’re not even exiting the house. My answer…just because.
READY TO TAKE ON THE DAY
So why do I like to wear make-up? Quite simply, it makes me feel good. It gives me a little boost.
I’ve never been body confident. Amongst other things, I’ve always had fine hair that frizzes at the merest hint of moisture and let’s just say I’m well blessed in other areas, which might sound like a good thing, but has generally been a pain in my arse. Who knows whether ‘putting on my face’ makes me look better than when I’m au naturalle.
The point is, I feel better. Stronger. Ready to take on the day.
And now I’m a mum, I still have a make-up routine, even if it is abbreviated from my pre-baby days. After 24 hours on the maternity ward, I whacked on some powder and curled my eyelashes (I didn’t bother with the hair straighteners I’d packed though)! I think it was my way of gaining control. Despite planning for 9 months, becoming a mum is the most overwhelming, slap-you-round-the-face experience. Spending a few minutes looking in a mirror, doing what I’d done for almost twenty years, made me feel normal again.
Even during those first 100 days of hell with a newborn, I managed a shower and a bit of make-up most days (thanks to Hubster who took baby duties in his stride). Not getting dressed and sporting a naked face, made me feel lack-lustre. At a time when hormones were raging, I was happy to do anything that kept me feeling human.
GET UP, DRESS UP, MAKE UP
Now I could get into some deep discussion on how the media and society has created an image of beauty which I’m trying to replicate, blah, blah, blah. And I’m sure looking at sexy film stars and glamorous models has influenced me along the way. But the fact is I’ve never really been a girly girl. I don’t take much notice of the latest diet and I’m not one for being pampered. I don’t think I’ve ever consciously adhered to a hair or fashion trend. Mainly because I’ve got shit hair and my figure was not designed for fashion. I still haven’t recovered from when I tried to squeeze my non-undernourished body into a shirt dress…ugh.
I wear make-up because it helps my skin look a bit smoother, my complexion a bit brighter and my lashes a bit longer. Note I say ‘a bit.’ I don’t think for a second that my slapdash approach is creating a knockout beauty. But it makes me feel comfortable in my own skin and with all the crap we have to deal with, that’s no bad thing.
I recently read a comments thread where women were vile to a writer who said she spent time getting ready every morning. They accused her of neglecting her children, being vain and thinking too much of herself.
For goodness sake…a) When did we all become such judgemental, unsupportive dipsticks and b) When did taking a few minutes for yourself become an offence?
I can’t stand sancti-mummys who think having children means giving up every ounce of yourself. That if you’re not walking around unshaven, wearing last weeks clothes and wreaking of vomit, you’re clearly not meant to be a mother…arggggh.
I’m with my little rocket man 24/7. I change him, dress him, feed him, play with him, help him, love him, cuddle him, bath him… every day. No neglect going on here people.
Hubster always says how lovely I look in my natural state, but like so many women, I never believe him. Ironically, whenever I see ladies without make-up, I often think how beautiful they look. So if you’re not a make-up wearer, I take my proverbial hat off to you.
Maybe I need to join a group? ‘Hi, I’m Kirsty and I’m a make-upholic.’
Or maybe not. Maybe I’m just a normal woman, doing what it takes to win each day.
What do you do every day that makes you feel good?