So, a week or two back, Chrissy at Mediocre Mum tagged me in one of those blogging memes. The challenge was to let your child loose on the contents of your make-up bag – and then post the results.
Chrissie tagged me and commented that “there’s no chance she’ll do it”.
Actually, she was right.
But probably not for the reasons she thought.
Here’s the thing. The picture above? It’s all the make-up I own. My cosmetics basket currently contains:
- Moisturiser (I have eczema, so peel like mad without this)
- BB Cream (for meetings)
- Foundation (for meetings when I’ve been up since 5am and look half-dead)
- Concealer (because there isn’t a law you can’t get spots when you’re over 25, although there TOTALLY should be)
- Brown Mascara
- Clear lip gloss
- Tinted lip gloss (for when I REALLY want to glam it up, obv)
- 50SPF children’s Sun cream (I am so fair-skinned I burn like a strip of bacon when exposed to sunlight)
- Under-eye roller for when concealer won’t cover the under-eye shadows
There you have it.
No eye shadow. No blusher. No lip liner, eye liner, nail polish, fake eye lashes, eyebrow pencils, bronzer, or… – actually those are all the make-up items I can think of.
Pathetic, isn’t it?
But here’s the thing – whatever the bit of the brain is that makes you understand make-up? I don’t have it.
When I try to rationalise why some women get so fixated on make-up, I just can’t. Sure, under-eye concealer and mascara do a great job of hiding tired eyes. Make-up can disguise a blemish, while a dash of lip gloss and mascara stop you looking too washed out in photos. But for the most part, I’m just not sure I’m THAT bothered.
I have a perfectly normal face. I don’t have any scars, or disfiguring marks. I don’t suffer unduly with spots or dark marks. As anonymous commenters occasionally point out with relish, I’m not especially beautiful, but it’s a perfectly good face. It’s expressive and tells the world how I’m feeling (far too clearly, most of the time). So why would I paint over it? I’d hate to be one of those women who can’t leave the house or look in a mirror without my “face” on.
Besides, there’s an inverse relationship between amount of cosmetics worn and time spent in bed, and on THAT relationship, I’m on the side of those who snooze.
Maybe it’s because I grew up with three older brothers. I don’t see the point of jewellery, either. Actually, ear-rings just creep me out. I can’t look at them for too long without shuddering.
On some level, then, I’ve failed – as a blogger, as a woman, as a Mum. I mean, Lord only knows who’s going to teach Flea about make-up – her teenage experimentation is going to be quite something to behold without the sort of Mum who can show her the ropes, isn’t it?
Can’t wait for THOSE photos. *evil snigger*
[Speaking of Mums, today’s the last day to nominate in the Tesco Mum of the Year awards – don’t forget to pop over and nominate an inspirational Mum you know. Because make-up or not, there are loads of Mums out there doing brilliant things every day, and they all deserve a pat on the back.]