Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Naked Face

When I was in middle school, I was into drama.

Not like, "Oh my god, did you see Linda with Adam? They were *gasp* talking to each other. He's mine! I'm gonna go cry for the rest of the year."

No, not like that. Like musical theater.

Pinocchio, Lion King, Beauty and the Beast... Godspell... *shudders*

Participating in these dramatic productions taught me a lot, although the self-confidence lesson I think they were designed for never really took root until college. For all of you non-thespians, you can't always tell from the seats in the theater, but stage makeup is horrifying. It's a full two shades darker than your actual skin, full bright cheeks are encouraged, and there's enough hairspray on you to light a small boat on fire.

While this is all fine and dandy when the only people looking at you are on stage wearing the same thing or are at a distance in a very dark room (a very dark room) it is not, by any means, a good introduction to makeup for a young girl.

Big pile of nope right there. 

I was always sort of a tomboy growing up. Partially because I lived in the woods and had the most boss play fort and obstacle course ever (tightropes, trapeze, zip line, fireman pole, five-story-tall swings from trees, etc...), but also because whenever my parents doted some kind of girly toy to me, namely Barbies, I would massacre them. It is a little disturbing, but I can't hide it anymore. I was a Barbie-murder. There. I said it!

I like to think it was me trying to break the paradigm of the female gender role, but I can't be sure if those were my intentions at six years old. Don't worry, I'm not displaying antisocial behavior, it was just Barbies. Other dolls were safe, and I always loved stuffed animals and actually cut all their tags off because I thought the tags hurt them.

Anyway, being more interested in making roads for my hotwheels in the sandbox didn't leave a lot of time to be experimenting with makeup. Especially because these huge floods kept washing all the bridges out. Rebuilding was quite time consuming. I only found out recently that this sandbox was full of rough sand designed for mixing with concrete. Whatevs dad, it's cool.

This, in tandem with the drama, could've made for the perfect marriage of poor artistic skills displayed on the canvas that was my face. This would've been very bad indeed, because looking back on my pictures from these years, the ones I haven't destroyed, I'm surprised anyone talked to me at all. But that, my children, is for another post... you might have to take me out to dinner first…

Ultimately, my lack of interest in makeup and other beauty products extended all the way through high school and now into college. I did eventually learn some of the ways of this subtle feminine mystique for school dances and formal functions, but I have never been one to be an every day applier. This video by my favorite truth-teller, Jenna Marbles, pretty aptly describes what can be inferred from my makeup about me.

Once I was talking with one of my male roommates. I mentioned that I am far too lazy to apply makeup every day. And do you know what he said? He said he couldn't tell.

What the what!?

More surprisingly, for how much of a visual society we are (the makeup industry is 50 billion dollar industry in the US) I have not felt any hinderance in my social life because I don't wear makeup. I don't think a lot of people can tell one way or the other, they only notice if you go from wearing it every day to suddenly not, and vice versa.

Like I said, I'm never focused enough for that business in the morning. I don't really do much with my hair either. If it's washed, it's good. If it's brushed, then some real adult shit is going on. I refuse to wake up two hours early to apply mystery chemical pigments to my face, it's just not that important to me in the long run. I have to use that time to tend to my garden and feed all of my animals.

Also, I don't want to display too many false pretenses; I'm already wearing contacts and have had my teeth ratcheted into a more appealing conformation. I don't want to be dating someone, wearing makeup the whole time, and then skip a day and scare the bajeebers out of him with my naked face. That would be unpleasant for everyone involved.

Every once in a while, I do apply some mascara (a very tame shade of brown). This is just a mental confidence boost I need on some rainy days here in Oregon. Like, what up, I've got lashes today; I'm ready to take on the world.

I understand why a lot of people apply makeup and it can certainly be fun to experiment with. But, honestly, when it comes down to it, it's just one less thing for me to worry about every day.
Is my eye-liner too heavy? Nah.
Did I smear my mascara? Nope.
Do I have lipstick on my teeth? Never.

It's liberating.

No comments:

Post a Comment