There is a nice lady
in our mobile home park that will not be seen outside her door
without her makeup on. She is lovely without it, but then …
A multibillion dollar
beauty industry has successfully promoted the idea that if you
don't wear their products you look like death warmed over. Of
course, there are those whose use of cosmetics make them look
like death took a holiday.
It starts when a girl,
hardly out of diapers, runs amuck with her mother's makeup kit.
She has seen her mother painstakingly doing her eyes, face all
scrunched up as she puts on mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow to
be followed by facial contortions congruent with blush and lipstick.
Finally, the look of satisfaction appears as she looks once more
in the mirror, shoving the stuff toward the back of the bathroom
sink where, later, little Kimberly has to stand on tiptoe to reach
it. And reach it she does.
The next scene is that
of horrified parents seeing the results of Kimberly's attempts
at gilding the lily. The mascara is a black smear across her forehead
and tears are running through the blush covering her cheeks because
she has stuck the brush in her eye. Her lips are as red and exaggerated
as a clown's. One draws a veil …
Since I didn't wear
much makeup when my daughter was a toddler, I missed this unique
horrific happening. But my daughter did use my lipstick
to make pretty smears on the tile in the bathroom. The use of
makeup did not raise its controversial head until she reached
junior high school.
"Mu-ther!" she
protested. "I'm the only one in Junior High with a naked
face. I want a lipstick like everyone else!" This went
on for a while until I gave in, up to a point. I bought her one
of those orangey things that turned pink on the lips. Tangee,
I think it was called. She wore it proudly for a year and then
protested that she wanted a red one "like the other
girls wear, Mu-ther!" For Christmas that year, just before
she entered ninth grade, I presented her with a red lipstick.
She squealed with delight. "Oh, Mommy, you're so special," came
with a lot of grateful hugs and kisses.
Did she take off from
there for the full treatment? No, she wore the lipstick every
day for about a month then stopped. "Aren't you putting on your
lipstick today?" I asked one morning as she was rushing to get
ready for school. "No. It's too much trouble," she replied airily
and dashed off.
Not until her later
years in high school did she wear makeup to school and on dates.
Powder on the nose and lipstick. After poking herself in the eye
with the mascara brush a couple of times, she gave up on that
and decided her lashes were long enough. To this day, now in her
fifties, she has beautiful skin that is touched by nothing more
than mild soap and water. She admitted to me a few days ago that
she would like to wear eye liner but she can't see to put it on
without her glasses and it's impossible to manage wearing bifocals.
Oh, well.
It used to be that
purveyors of lipstick and nail polish offered a selection of varied
shades of pink and red to complement the pinks and reds of healthy
skins. The idea was to enhance one's appearance without it being
obvious. That day is long gone. You still have your choice of
pinks and reds, but now they are coded as to warm colors and cold
colors. In addition there is every color and shade of the spectrum
ranging from white to black, including silver and gold and those
that are speckled with glitter. Can you imagine a normal male
wanting to kiss a girl with glittery green lips with nails to
match?
Nowadays pancake concoctions
to hide blemishes and to fill in wrinkles, astringents to tighten
the skin (we used to use ice water), products to dry oily skin
and to oil dry skin and all sorts of other creams emulate the
Fountain of Youth. (You would have to live alone to use these
as directed. Husbands and Significant Others have a tendency to
quail at the sight or feel of a woman so engaged in 'beautifying'
herself.)
I succumbed once to
the lure of an apricot defoliant sample. After applying it I wandered
into the living room where Himself was watching a football game.
As I passed across his line of vision he looked up, stared for
a moment and shuddered. "It's just a mudpack," I volunteered.
He closed his eyes, raised an arm with a finger pointing toward
the bathroom. I laughed, and went.
Women have been indulging
in enhancement since time began. I think Salome was described
as wearing kohl around her eyes as she flirted with her seven
veils. Painted women were equated with harlots. In previous centuries,
before the pure food and drug laws intervened, women of fashion
died from putting whitening and beauty spots on their faces. Such
compounds were infused with poisonous metallic powders. Actresses
saw their skin age prematurely from the heavy makeup required
on stage before modern lighting made it unnecessary. Theatrical
makeup now has become an art form with precautions taken to protect
the skin from harmful chemicals and hypoallergenic products exist
for the sensitive. And when subtlety applied with good taste and
judgment, makeup can enhance a woman's best features and minimize
flaws.
Some young women, apparently
desperate to make an impression, are prey to the maximum color
wheel of the beauty consultants without the opinion of an impartial
judge. Purple lips and matching nails do not look good on a girl
with dark hair and an olive complexion.
Do I wear makeup? Sometimes.
Discretely. Like the nice lady in our mobile home park does.
