In response to Mask
Perhaps it’s a sign of how insecure my generation is, unable to accept who we are, always searching for something else within ourselves. Perhaps I’ve just swallowed all of the advertising which tells me that I will be happier if I apply several layers of £15 foundation and wing my eyeliner.
I’ve been wearing make-up since I was about 12, sure, back then it was a bit of clear mascara and the free lipgloss that came with a magazine. But, then I progressed, thought of applying my make-up as a skill that I could perfect, and spent lord only knows how much on my quest for the perfect skin that antibiotics has yet to give me. Yes, my skin doesn’t look too bad in the no-make-up selfie above, why? because I deliberately picked a photo where you can only guess at the horrors of my skin, it’s better these days but not that long ago I would cry over the state of my skin.
So, why do I bother putting make-up on already clogged skin?
Well, I love getting ready for nights out. It’s fun, you all gather around, debate what music should be played, drink cheap wine and put on make-up.It’s fun, we laugh, we help, we try silly new make-up (not that I see anything wrong with bright blue eye-shadow, but hey, whatever).
It’s therapeutic; I can do my make-up in 10 minutes or I can spend about 45. It’s a great way to procrastinate and get frustrated over the perfect lip-line instead of an essay. It’s the same reason I cook when I’m stressed, go for walks, go out when I have deadlines. Sometimes you need to distract yourself from everything.
I can transform into anyone. I can be me but better, I can be all dark eye make-up-purple-lips-kick-your-arse or rosy lips and smiles.
I don’t care about waking up an extra 30 mins in the morning
to do my hair and make-up. It sets me up for the day, knowing I look good makes me feel like I can face anything with perfect eyebrows. Yes, I could still be awesome without the contouring, but does that mean I should? In a society obsessed with the aesthetic would I be treated the same as when I’m all dolled up?
I do it for me. Not guys.
Honestly, do you think I spent a day in pig-tails like a kid so you’d twist your sweaty hands in my hair and whisper with vodka-soaked breath that I’m hot?
I did this all for me, so I can look back in 20 years and think ‘hell yeah, look how damn beautiful I was that night’.
I did this because I wanted to.
At the end of the day I’m proud of my make-up collection, the skills I’ve learnt and, despite what some people say on social media outlets about women wearing make-up, I’m not lying to anyone when I curl my lashes. I’m always me underneath it all, but on the surface I’m a little more defined, coloured and highlighted.