I’ve never been the type to get up really early, get ready, put a full face of make up on and refuse to leave the house until every. single. hair is in place. I just don’t have the motivation. Also: life’s too short, no?
For years, I’ve marvelled at women I’ve known who won’t even nip outside to put their washing out without perfectly shaped eyebrows. Me? I put my washing out with hair that hasn’t been washed for days, dressed in jammas and some welllies, with not a shred of makeup. This is mainly because I’M PUTTING WASHING OUT and no one gives a toss. I also have a huge back garden and live in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not like anyone can see me, anyway.
Still, I had neighbours when I lived in Scotland, but that didn’t stop me walking the dog in my onesie. And if you’re the type who is content to take your puppy out when you can’t even be bothered getting properly dressed, mascara and blush are clearly not on your radar. There are days when showering isn’t on my radar.
|OMG…I’m tired just looking at this.
Don’t get me wrong: I own makeup. I own lots of it in various expensive brands that claim to do all manner of wonderful things that never actually seem to transpire. I’ve largely stopped paying any kind of decent money for it. Cheap brand from Wilko in Porthmadog? Yes – I’d like the mousse foundation in ‘ghostly white’, please.
I get up roughly 15 minutes before I head off to work in the morning. I don’t have time for any additional chores. I take foundation to work with me and, should I look completely hellish in the mirror in the ladies, I will put some on so as not to frighten the Hell out of my customers. That takes all of about 30 seconds of my day and is my idea of making an effort. I wouldn’t dream of putting makeup on before I went to say, the gym. I mean, FFS, people: you’re working out. You’re *supposed* to look like a tramp, and if you don’t – you’re not doing it right.
Half of me watches perfectly made up women walking by and wishing I had that sort of dedication, while the other half of me secretly judges them for caring so much. That, and I like the thought of the vicious circle they might be in. If they get up at dawn to fix their faces, they’re probably knackered and therefore NEED all the makeup, which means they NEED to get up that early to hide all bags under their eyes and stuff.
This whole contouring trend makes me laugh in various ways. It’s a pretty impressive skill as it can transform your entire face. But what’s the point in having a face that isn’t actually your face? And what’s the point in having that face if it means you have to get up an hour earlier to create a totally new one? My fear is that it would rain one day and all slide off, leaving startled friends to wonder WTF just happened to me.
OK, so that’s a little over dramatic, but I just don’t get it. When did we end up being quite so worried about what we look like (don’t answer that…) that it renders us completely unable to be ourselves?
|Is this blush; foundation; highlighter? I honestly have no clue.
I sometimes check out the photos on my step son’s intstagram page and think his female friends look like they’re in their twenties. They’re not: they’re 15-16, but they’re caked in eyeliner and heavy foundation and look dreadful. To make it worse, they’re all such pretty girls who absolutely don’t need to be plastered in the latest 72 hour miracle foundation and liquid liner that would make Amy Winehouse proud.
I’m not against lots of makeup – it totally worked for Barbara Cartland, after all. I jest, of course – and you see my point. One of my main issues with makeup is that I have no idea what I’m doing. This is despite being a fully qualified beauty therapist in a previous life. The underlying problem is, undoubtedly, that I just don’t care enough to spend time learning anything.
I recently bought a brow liner and used it once. I don’t even know where it is now. Plus, I just made my blonde eyebrows slightly darker and I wasn’t quite sure what the point of it all was when I realised that my brown brows no longer matched my blonde hair.
A couple of weeks ago, Leslie and I went out for dinner with some friends and I spent about 20 minutes looking for my straighteners. I’ve lived in Wales for 12 months and they were still in the box I brought them from Scotland in. I haven’t used them once, because it takes ages and, yep, I CBA. I’d much rather have an extra 30 minutes on the sofa or blogging than sitting with a hairdryer pointed at my head because OMG the effort.
|I haven’t brushed my hair since 2003.
I have very long, naturally curly blonde hair which, luckily, can be styled with some conditioner and left to dry of its own accord (I love you, hair). This means by the time I get anywhere, my hair usually looks fine. And if it rains later, it doesn’t matter. It’s a win, win, really. I can honestly say I have never slept in rollers and never will. I mean, I don’t need to because I have curly hair, but you see what I mean.
I’m not sure if I find it all a bit fake; whether I’m genuinely too lazy to get up earlier, or whether I just don’t give enough fucks. Jury’s out on that one. What I DO know is that, at 38, it’s highly unlikely that this will ever change. And I’m OK with that. After all, I’ve probably had about two extra years sleep than someone of a similar age who is a hair and make up slave, so I probably look younger, anyway*
If I was a celebrity, I’d def be Britney Spears. That girl used to wander around without her bra, any hair shampoo, and no make up all the time. That’s my kind of woman. I CBA with the Kim Kardashians of the world who actually touch up photos of their touched up faces before they post them anywhere. Who seriously goes for coffee with that much make up on??
Which side of the debate do you fall on? Are you a contouring addict, or a lazy girl who puts her foundation on in the toilets at work and can’t do cat eyes to save her life?
*I really don’t, but I’m still not getting out of bed earlier.