Like most adolescents of the 1980s, there was a time when I wore copious amounts of blue eye shadow. In my middle school years I was pretty typical in that regard. I also had a very bad perm, one that matched my two best friends at the time but was never quite as perfect.
Like most adolescents I tried hard to fit in. I'm not sure when that changed but it did. Maybe it was when the fashions changed from spandex and body suits to oversized sweatshirts from Coconut Joe's or Neon Vuarnet fashion atrocities. I'm not sure.
Maybe it was the day in high school when I spent 45 minutes on my makeup to get it just right and my then best friend said to me, "You look like you aren't wearing any makeup." Something in me changed. Why on earth was I spending so much time on my appearance just to look the same as I did before? So somewhere in high school I stopped wearing makeup and opted for the comfy look of jeans and T-shirts.
I wish I could tell you that this was purposeful, a rebellion against the norm or some feminist stance on societal norms of beauty. Really, I think I was just too lazy or perhaps suffering from a bout of depression. I enjoyed sleeping in more than the ritual of getting ready. Also, I got cheap. After working part-time while in school I found I'd rather spend my money on other things. That hasn't changed. Beauty products are expensive and I’d much rather go out for East Indian food than dish out the cash for a manicure that I’ll just have to have redone in a few weeks.
So I have gone through life more or less makeup-less. I would put some on for the occasional special event, a wedding, a graduation or some other celebration. Over the years I have had several girlfriends try to encourage me to "just wear a bit of mascara" or "a little lip gloss," saying "It will make a big difference." They are well-meaning friends and lovely people but it just isn't me.
I was a bridesmaid in my mother-in-law's wedding this past week. I enjoyed the camaraderie of the girlish routines – the pedicures, the makeup and the hair. I love my in-laws so hanging out with them is never a chore. I even find it fun to put on another persona for a day but it still isn't me.
I have struggled to explain this to women. I always hear the adages of it being "important to look your best" and "people judge you on your looks." I'm not such an idealist that I don't know that this is at least partially true. But it is only true because we all agree that this is the way it should be. We are the problem. Or maybe this is my subconscious way of trying to justify the wrinkles in my clothes (I also don't iron).
Many of my clients tell me that after they have lost a loved one or when they are struggling through a rough time they loath one question. That is, "Hey, how are you?" Mostly because people don't actually want to know. They are just making small talk. No one wants to hear... "Pretty crappy, my brother just killed himself and I'm thinking that there is no point to life anymore." All they want to hear is "Fine, how are you?", if they even wait long enough to hear a response. When people need compassion we often don't have time to give it to them.
We as a society have found many ways to not mean what we say and to cover up who we really are. This is why I have decided that I value authenticity above all other attributes in myself and the people with whom I choose to surround myself.
Many of the women I love dearly are much girlier than me. They are beautiful women who take time and pride in their appearance and I love them for it. They are authentic in their own ways. It is good to be challenged by them. I, however, choose to do it differently.
No one will ever convince me that I look better with makeup on. I love how I look. I love that when I'm tired, people know it. I love that when I have cried tears of joy or sadness, you can see it on my face for hours. To me that feels authentic. It is who I am. As I age, I expect that people will be able to tell I'm getting older. I am also OK with that ... well, most days.
Being authentic is the example I want to set for my daughter. I strive to be authentic in my words, my actions and my appearance. Some days I am better at this than others. It is like all things in life: a work-in-progress.
So yes, you will see me dress up occasionally and I will enjoy it. But mostly you will see me in clothes that I like and that I am comfortable in, without makeup, just being me.
