Okay, so I'm not a celeb. By anyone's standards. But it got your attention, right? I mean, I don't know about you, but whenever there's a magazine issue that features Celebs Without Makeup!! I eagerly peruse the pics. Because I want to see just how plain (and hopefully homely) they are without all the makeup. But the truth is, even without makeup, they still get those pics taken in flattering lighting and I'd venture a guess that there's still some photo editing going on.
Anyhoo.
So, here's how I woke up this past Saturday morning:
Michael,who had gotten up with the kids before me (I know!), came and sat on the edge of the bed next to me, and gazed at me as I slowly pulled myself from the grip of the Sandman. "Why do you wear makeup?" he asked me. Seriously, those were the first words I heard that morning. As if he had been pondering some deep mystery. What ensued was a discussion (or debate - call it what you will), which has continued through the next few days, about the merits/non-merits of makeup. Michael's not a fan, apparently. I, on the other hand, am a fan of makeup. Specifically, of wearing makeup. It's a security thing, admittedly. I've been conditioned to believe that I look better with makeup than without.
Here, you be the judge.
Here I am in all my un-made-up glory:
Puh-lain! Homely, even. (Color me insecure.) Washed out. Blech. Really, he prefers me this way? I'm sitting here telling myself, "It's The Man! The Man just wants to keep you down!" (You have to imagine me saying that in my throwback, anti-establishment voice; otherwise it's not funny.)
And here I am with my usual helping of makeup:
Completely unretouched, I might add! (As if you couldn't tell.) Really, I try not to use a heavy hand. I don't like the caked-on, mask look. So I go lightly on the foundation. But listen, I'm 42. I've got lines, and dark circles, and uneven skin tone. So I try to remedy those things a little. I do like to do my eyes up a little; otherwise they just blend right in with the rest of my washed-out look. I rarely wear lipstick anymore; instead I just swipe some Aveeno lip balm on about 153 times a day (have you ever heard of a lip balm addiction?).
So Michael tells me - adamantly - that he likes me better without makeup. I'm having a hard time believing him. I know I look better with makeup on - after all, as I informed him, when I was out in the front yard the other day watering the flowers and some guy in a truck drove by and howled at my ass (I'm not kidding! And you know what? I'm documenting it here because it's been a loooooooooooooong time since that's happened, and probably won't happen again too many times before I kick the bucket, and I'll take my ego boosts where I can get them, thank you very much), I happened to have a full face of makeup on. So what if he only saw the back of me!
Anyway, in all seriousness, what he says is that when I have makeup on, it's not like he looks at me and thinks, "Wow, what great skin she has!" but rather, "Oh, she's got makeup on her skin."
Huh.
I used to be the kind of girl who would not leave the house without makeup. Not even to run out for a pack of cigarettes (really good for the skin, by the way). Now? Yeah, I like to wear makeup. But the truth is, I wear it less and less these days. Who has time? I see these moms dropping their kids off at school in the morning and they're all done up (Curbside Beauty Queens, I've dubbed them, because, you know, it makes me feel better) - full makeup, hair perfectly coiffed (or artfully messy), stylish, matching ensemble. They must have jobs (as in jobs which require them to present themselves in a certain way, jobs for which they receive a paycheck), that's the only thing I can figure. My usual morning look is: no makeup, hair pulled back in a sloppy clip, sweats, flip-flops. And I often spend entire days like that. On end. But after a while it starts getting a little depressing. I start feeling really schleppy, and I might catch a passing glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, "Boy, lady, you've really let yourself go."
So sometimes I like to put makeup on. And do my hair. It makes me feel better. It makes me feel like I still take a little pride in the way I look, despite the fact that I'm a 42-year-old stay-home-mom of six kids. Who apparently has nobody to impress.
Here's me all air-brushed and photo-edited (thank you, Picnik!) -
Dude. If I could walk around all the time all air-brushed? That would be NICE.
Or maybe this is my best look:
Anyway, I'm curious, oh female readers. Does your significant other prefer you with or without makeup? If you don't know, go ask and then report back to me, okay? Really, inquiring minds want to know.
