I was having a conversation on Twitter the other day with a couple of friends when the subject fashion led to the subject of high school and then into the subject of makeup.
I noted that I used to sleep in my close to maximize the time I could sleep. Ten minutes to out the door and on the bus. One of these ladies said she would never be ready in time because she had to do her hair and makeup.
I didn’t wear makeup in high school. Nor did I do my hair.
I still don’t.
Some days I’m halfway to someplace trying to remember if I looked in a mirror at all before I left. She replied that she had never had the confidence to go without makeup. I replied that I never had the confidence to go with.
Despite reading hundreds of issues Seventeen, YM, Teen People, and whatever else the magazine racks offered me, I never learned how to properly put on makeup. I don’t know what goes first or how eyeliner works or where you contouring should go. I tried to buy and wear makeup a few times but I never understood what my undertones were and what shade of red was right – orange red or purple red?
I was convinced that the minute I stepped out of the house in makeup people would notice right away – in the worst possible way.
It would be all wrong. I’d look like DJ Tanner on that makeup less is more episode of Full House where Aunt Becky gets to teach the special lesson.
Now I’m an adult and I’m expected to wear makeup and sometimes look presentable. I ever had professional makeup done once that I really liked and she told me all the products she used which I then bought.
I have tried. I have tried to wear makeup to work and for special occasions. I have tried to look pulled together.
But the fact of the matter is I’m still that girl that spills something on her shirt ten minutes after getting dressed. I sweat on the bus and rub my itchy eye without remembering mascara and I just can’t walk in high heels.
Instead of getting better it gets worse.
So here I am, 35 years old. I don’t wear makeup, I don’t do anything with my hair, I only occasionally wear fancy clothes and when I do I’m probably not comfortable, and I’m in Converse 95 per cent of the time.
And while having a child has hindered my abilities, when responsible only for myself I can still get out the door in 10 minutes flat.