I used to put on my mom's make-up when I was like ten, drawing a superhero eyemask or a shiny star on my forehead like the Lady Amalthea. Once I tried to make myself look like Jessica Rabbit, with the big purple eyelids and round, red lips, and the mom told me I looked silly and was brave to wear such a ridiculous mask and made me wash it off immediately, so I spread toothpaste all over my face and ran around, crying out melodramatically, "What have you done to me? I'm a unicorn. I'm a unicorn!" until someone paid attention or I sufficiently annoyed the fuck out of everyone. Or something like that.
But usually when I gave myself toothpaste facials--which was a trick I learned from my friend Karla who maturely reasoned out the beauty and health benefits of toothpaste facials all on her own after watching her big sister Margot do it (Karla was unaware that Margot did not actually use toothpaste)--usually when I gave myself toothpaste facials I got in wicked trouble for wasting shit, and then I had to wash the woodwork and pull weeds.
The first junior high sleepover I went to all these girls brought their Caboodles full of make up and gave each other makeovers, and I made myself a breathtaking black eye and dropped a line about fighting in a phalanx a la Civilization to tinkling ridicule because I was unaware that there were people in the world who did not think Civ was the most awesomest computer game ever, let alone people who did not think computer games were awesome to begin with. Fucking weirdos, right?
They made fun of me for awhile, called me a loser, reminded me that boys didn't like girls who liked computer games and never wore make up (they were basically right), and they tried to fix me. Then we watched Pretty Woman, a movie that made me nervous and uncomfortable because it was just about kissing and I didn't understand why she wanted to be with the asshole guy I didn't know why she didn't just get a real job and take care of herself, and they laughed since I obviously didn't understand love and the importance of beauty, so I hid in the bathroom and cried because I knew they were right, and I would never be as beautiful and sophisticated as the rest girls that had life figured out in sixth grade.
They never invited me over again. Told everyone at school that I was weird like a boy and that something was wrong with me because I didn't even like Pretty Woman. And so began the battle of Rassles v. The Pretty Girls, a battle that rages on to this day but only in my brain.
So I have another wedding to go to in a few weeks, and I the other day I decided that this time, for this wedding? I'm going to wear actual make up, not just mascara. Fo' reals. But I needed to practice my brushstroke. I'm initially goonish at anything that requires delicacy, but I've got pretty good muscle memory. I figured I could get this shit down after a few tries, easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Feeling revolutionary, I opened up my make up case. I decided that if this worked it would change my life. Perhaps, just maybe, I should wear actual make up like, all the time. I could look like a grown up instead of a child playing make-believe. I could wear make up to work, you know? Or to bars? Of course, my friends would point it out constantly; I must be prepared to hear, "Are you wearing make up?" at least once a day for six months or so. Still. The possibilities were endless, and kind of exciting. Not super endless because, well, I only have gray, brown, and three shades of green eyeshadow (St. Patrick's Day, 2004). But still. I have to substantiate my place as a feminine consumer before I hit thirty in January. After thirty you have to call yourself a woman and women wear fucking make up, so do it, even if you think it's stupid.
Half an hour later I'd completely forgotten trying to be pretty and painted on a very convincing Frankenstein Monster Face. With scars. I am so awesome at making myself look like the Frankenstein Monster. I should go Frankenstein Monster pro.
So now you know why I haven't finished the casino story.
...
* You know, I like Pretty Woman a lot, when I'm not going all propaganda-brain. (She is valued by everyone in power for her naive, radiant beauty and her ability to subserviently follow orders! She knows about cars which adds surprising depth to her gentle, yet radiant character! Controlling man purchases her love and affection with fancy things! Fancy things make women complacent and enthusiastic love slaves!) But I do think it's fun and ridiculous.
18 comments:
Weird. The girls in my town weren't big on makeup, even when we were in high school.
I do remember getting made fun of because I was 12 and wasn't shaving my legs.
So, I stole a razor and shaving cream from my parents' bathroom and ended up giving myself wicked razor burn. I hid the razor and shaving cream in my old baby cradle I had stuffed animals in.
My mom started cleaning my room, and I didn't want her to find the razor and shaving cream, so I started freaking out. She was convinced I had a crack pipe or condoms hidden in there, so she was happy I was just trying to shave my legs.
That's a lesson I've yet to learn though, since I've been avoiding talking to my parents for the past two weeks. I eventually told my mom, and she said she was glad I was just fired, and not murdered.
Pretty Woman is the worst fucking movie ever. You were right about that one.
i didn't wear makeup until after college - and when i would put on something, i'd get that bullshit "oooooooh, daisyfae's wearing MAKE-up!" that made me want to hit someone.
the best makeup is being comfortable with yourself. and if black eyes and frankenstein face makes you comfortable? you should also branch out into the realm of zombie makeup.
I think you should wear the frank makeup to work and bars.
I started wearing makeup at age 12 because everyone else did, and stopped when I was 15 because I hated it. For my wedding I got a henna artist to henna my arms ans legs and paint my face with a viney thing, plus glitter. It was way awesomer than makeup.
I have never seen pretty woman.
I have a sneaking suspicion that you were invited to the wedding specifically for the frankenstein face.
Also, makeup ends up in similar pictures on my face. I'm a professional at zombiefying myself.
See i didn't understand Pretty Woman cuz like from a male perspective it's like "why you dating a hooker dude".
As for make-up i used to eat some acid and let my female friends doll me up, don a bright red Ziggy Stardust wig and then go to Subway and sit in the window fucked out of my gourd, this was in small town Pennsyltucky, got entertain yourself somehow... and fuck was i beautiful.
"I'm a unicorn?" Did you just watch The Glass Menagerie or something?
Oh jeez. I STILL have the caboodle I got from my best friend when I was 12. She wore make-up. I didn't. Took me a good 10 years for me to have make-up in it.
Chamuca: You know Mean Girls? That was my school. Seriously. Some of the research done for the book that inspired Mean Girls was done at my old high school. While I was there.
Daisyfae: But zombies look dead, and dead things are icky. Hee hee. I said icky. I never say icky.
Meagan: That IS awesome. I thought about getting henna for the last wedding I went to, but in the end I just forgot that I thought about it.
Miss Ash: There is a good chance of that. Once a friend took me to a wedding specifically so I would ruin it.
Kono: If I was thinner, I would totally do Ziggy Stardust for Halloween, but I have these damn tits that just completely fuck up the whole thing.
RF: Nah, it's from The Last Unicorn. I know. I'm an idiot.
Grumpy: I kept art supplies in mine.
daisyfae may be right. I think you are our spirit child. My sister had to buy a skirt for my father's funeral because she didn't own one. Oh, and next time you want to put on makeup, roll to Walgreens and get some new shit. That crap grows bacteria after a few years.
Would be killer if you wore zombie makeup
Starting to sense a pattern here. :)
Have you ever gone to a department store and let them do your makeup? Case the different counters and if you see someone who has on makeup that you like, ask her to do yours. You don't have to buy anything and you can see what it looks like when it's put on well.
(And I know you're probably rolling your eyes at me now but fuck it. I'm Southern. We wear makeup.)
I have some mascara in my medicine cabinet. I bought it because there was supposed to be a mustache party, and I wanted a thick, lustrous mustache. There never was a mustache party, which is good because imagine if I sneezed and my mustache started to run.
I washed my hair with toothpaste when I was a kid. Now I can't stand the smell of it, shit, try to find a tube of toothpaste without mint in it.
I love the part about the fight still going on, but only in your head.
Holy crap, I just read through like 10 posts and have decided we need to be friends.
I want to get married again just so you can come to my wedding with a Frankenstein Monster Face
Ha! This is awesome as ever. For the record, I know a lot of women who don't do the make up thing. I do, but I consider it a service to mankind.
Chris: I love that you know more about it than I do.
Thanny: Would be killer if I wore or IS KILLER CUZ I AM
HIF: Obviously, I was going through an emotionally distraught bullshit fucking bollocks gloomy period.
JMH: Hypothetical mustache parties are disappointing beyond belief.
Kitty: It really is, too. They judge me, I know it.
Jaag: I agree, and it's not just because those initials spell JAAG. But how can we be friends if I have no way to talk to you? I'm not good with one-sided relationships.
Nurse: I'll do it, too.
Mia: When I want to service mankind, I nap.
I really like make up. My mother fucking hates make up. She also refuses to carry a purse. While I don't understand this, I think she's gorgeous and creative with pockets to hold stuff. It doesn't matter what you wear. You're pretty damn cool.
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