I wear makeup.
There I've said it.
I wear it everyday, and have since I was sixteen.
It isn't something that I have talked openly about until recently, and that makes it seem as though I am ashamed. And I'm just not. Not by the MAC clowns. Not by the sorority girls in Sephora. And certainly not by you. So here it is.
I begin my morning ritual with my four step bare mineral foundation, to achieve the effortless look of flawless bare skin. I then contour and shadow, and begin my five color eye-shadow application, with my MAC brush set (thanks to may may). I finish it all off with some eyebrow gel, clear mascara on curled lashes, and the omnipresent soft-lips (vanilla). All in all, it takes five to seven minutes. And while I can't say that there are not the occasional days where I inadvertently emerge from the bathroom looking like Liza Minnelli, for the most part I try only to enhance my god given features. I mean my whole body just hangs off of these cheek bones, don't cha know! I'm only joking of course. I'm really not that vain. No, really.
Is it ridiculous? Perhaps. A little over the top. Of course. But a little too much is just enough for me. Why shouldn't I want to try to look my best?And why not put my artistic skills to good use on my own face?
And, really, anyone who doesn't like it can lick it, put a stamp on it, and send it to someone who gives a shit! Okaaaaaay.