This is my make up bag, such as it is. It's on the smallish side. And it occurs to me now that I could probably throw out some of that stuff because I almost never use it. The bag itself originally was one of those cheap-o travel bags prefilled with teeny tiny shampoos and toothpastes. Once we returned from whatever trip I bought it for, I repurposed it into my make up bag. I don't remember what I was using before this. But that's beside the point.
I wasn't born into a family where the women wore make up so trying out mom's eyeshadow as a little girl never happened. My mom wore chapstick, not lipstick. So I grew up not really thinking about it. By the time I hit my highschool years we lived in Texas and it was the latter part of the 60's and early 70's. The hippy dippy days. Where even in Texas the natural look was a thing. Of course those native texas beauty queens achieved their natural look via make-up back then, but hey.
The only time I had make up on my face, someone else applied it. It was transformative to suddenly look in the mirror and see a different fact looking back at me. Kind of strange but kind of cool too. Still it wasn't until college that I began buying make up for myself. And being a poverty stricken college kid it was really cheap crappy stuff. Put that together with the knowledge that I didn't have a clue what I was doing and well, I'll just say that the results were definitely mixed.
And then I got married, moved to a working farm and immediately produced three children. I didn't have the time, the inclination or the funds to put on make up. Also the cows and chickens had no opinion about make up one way or the other. So for a long time, I was make up free.
Then one day I had to get a full time job which meant investing in a real hair cut, as opposed to the really long hair whipped into a ponytail or braids and real clothes, instead of jeans and sneakers AND wearing make up. Since I was at least smart enough to know what I didn't know, I went to the professionals. I went to the make up counter of one of those really big department stores, perhaps a Macy's?
I wandered around rather confused looking at all those mysterious potions and lotions until one kindly lady behind the counter asked if she could help me. When I shyly explained my situation, she was both delighted and excited, "You sit here honey," she said, "I'll fix you right up". She explained what she was doing and why throughout the process. And while the results looked very nice it was also a bit much for me. Still I bought the whole kit'n'caboodle, went home and experimented until I came up with a down-sized version.
And that is what I automatically applied, every single morning, for the next twenty or so years. I didn't give it any more thought than brushing my teeth. Shower, do my hair, put on my make up, get dressed. Like an automaton. Until this past March when we went on lockdown.
I'm not sure what it was about the advent of the quarantine/virus but everything kind of came to a screeching halt. Even thing that didn't necessarily have to be affected by the shutdowns. I suppose it just seemed like nothing mattered.
And at first it felt strange NOT putting it on, but eventually it became the new normal. And I kind of liked it. It was liberating. One less thing on my gotta-do list. Except that whenever I ventured out into the world, masked, I realized that nobody can read facial expressions anymore. All anyone can see is my eyes. So in the spirit of once again putting my best foot, or perhaps face, forward I would bother to at least wear eye make up. Mascara in lieu of a smile.
I know that everyone says that looks don't matter and that we shouldn't judge others. But we do. Everyone judges. They may not mean to but they do. I do, you do, everyone does. And therefore, whenever I must be out and about in public with a mask, I take a few minutes and make the minimal effort necessary to look the best I can under the circumstances.
It's the least I can do. And never let it be said that I didn't do the least I could do.
Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.