Fleeting moments of colour near a mine site far far away - Gwalia Gold Mine, Western Australia
“Are you okay?” I asked as we passed each other in the hallway, “I’m fine,” she responded laughingly, “I just haven’t put my face on yet!” It was morning, we were still in our pj’s.
‘Jeez she looks pretty bloody pasty, especially for a black American woman,’ I was thinking. It was 1985. I was in boarding school. We had strict rules about makeup here, only the older girls were allowed to wear it. And that’s usually how I saw her, all ‘made up,’ so, naturally I was shocked to discover that without makeup she looked rather lacklustre, sickly even.
A few decades on, now in my 50th, makeup-free year I sometimes wonder how on earth I managed to evade jumping on that ubiquitous makeup bandwagon? Could it have been that morning encounter way back in boarding school? Did it have such a profound effect on me? Somewhere deep in my subconscious, did I decide that I never want to look pasty and weird every time I remove my ‘face?’
Back in the hideous late 80’s I did experiment occasionally with blue eye shadow, black eyeliner and pink lipstick, I applied this trusty trio before school discos and later to get into nightclubs. But these makeup wearing sessions were rare and short-lived. I didn’t like that strange barrier and subtle behavioural change it created, I also hated that tedious retouching process. By my mid-twenties I didn’t even bother with these basics. Besides, I’d already met my future husband Mr Fritz, he liked my face unadorned and quite frankly, we preferred makeup-free smooching. Also, by then I didn’t need to cake-it-on anymore to get into nightclubs.
Young women have been using this trusty old makeup trick for decades because, it actually works. It makes us look older and it convincingly confuses male bouncers. This phenomenon then begs the question, if makeup ages young women, does it age older women too?
I believe it does. In fact, as we age and develop life lines we simply provide more nooks and crannies for the makeup to sink into highlighting the very thing we’re trying to conceal. There’s nothing less appealing than lipstick seeping into fine lip creases.
I also remember witnessing an awkward and rather painful encounter between my parents. Mr Fritz and I were visiting them in South Africa, we were getting ready to attend a wedding. Mum, out of the blue decided to wear makeup, she wanted to get dolled up, after all they rarely went out. When she emerged from the bedroom my dad noticed the makeup immediately.
“What’s that on your face?” He blurted out in mocking laughter. “You look like a clown!”
I’ll never forget the look on Mum’s face. She tried to brush aside the pain and humiliation by flicking him the middle finger. We drove to the wedding in silence. Mum and I sat in the back where I squeezed her hand and mouthed, “don’t worry Mum.”
At the time I didn’t realise the weight of that moment, but I now know that it impacted me a profoundly. My dad didn’t like makeup. He thought it was ridiculous, a waste of time and money and he preferred the natural look.
I completely agree.
There are however times when I wonder if I’m just inherently lazy because I can’t be bothered putting on a face each morning and taking it off at night. I can’t be bothered shopping for it and I can’t be bothered experimenting with it. Or could it be I’m just a tight arse?
Perhaps you might be wondering if my face is flawless and so striking that I don’t need enhancements? If only. Far from it. I have my fair share of blemishes – a sizeable chicken pox scar on my forehead, pigmentation spots dotted around, a line so deep across the bridge of my nose it would make any plastic surgeon wince. The tips of my eyelashes are blonde, so they look shorter than they actually are. I have a decent collection of fine lines too, (okay, some not so fine) congregating around my eyes and mouth. But, really, at the end of the day who gives a crap? No one. Presenting my unedited and unsaturated face to the world hasn’t lessened the quality of my life in any way.
But what about the desire for a more polished appearance? A sultrier look with come-hither luscious lips? I could enhance my blue eyes and bat sexy, dark lashes? But, honestly, what for? How on earth would this change my life in any meaningful way?
In fact, particularly now, during this uncertain and turbulent political landscape we find ourselves in I propose that makeup has become even more redundant.
Emerging data shows that lipstick and makeup palette sales are dropping and even makeup queen, Bobbi Brown, the woman behind the ‘nude’ makeup movement has ditched lipstick and foundation - she no longer considers these essentials. She prefers to recreate authenticity – albeit with a shit load of ‘natural-looking’ makeup.
Authenticity, in my mind is actually enhanced without makeup.
After all, what could be more authentic than a makeup-free face? And although it can be tremendously confronting to really own and love your natural face, I also know it’s fantastically freeing once you do.
A makeup-free clown. On the last day of our pole dancing term, our instructor Lou always invented a fun theme for dress ups. If you like, you can read about my pole dancing experiences see links below.
Pole Dancing Archer Magazine
