Mascara

In this picture, I have mascara and eyeliner marks around my eyes. I don't really mind, it was taken late at night after a busy Christmas day gathering with family and a lot of food. I had reason to be weary.

Amy and I had an interesting conversation this afternoon while we took part in the daily routine most women share: putting on our makeup. I told her that there are times when I feel completely disguting when I don't have eyeshadow and eyeliner on. I look in the mirror, and the thought crosses my mind: I am incomplete and I didn't take care today to make myself look nice. I am convinced people will notice that I don't look my best.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went on. I think that I look "my best" when I paint it with dried up colors with a brush and various instruments for application I keep in a small black bag that I never lose possession of. But I am truly me when I don't have makeup on. Makeup is truly just that--being made up.

You might be saying to yourself, "wow, Anne sure is a smart one," and you roll your eyes. "She's just now getting this?"

Stay with me, stay with me.

The summer after my freshman year in high school, a friend from church introduced me to a band called S.O.K and their song "Made Perfect." A brief clip of lyrics for you:

The girl you see in the mirror isn't who I see. When I look at you, I see reflections of me. You don't like your face, so you paint over my masterpiece. You hide your face, so you hide my face, and fail to believe that I made you the way you would be most beautiful. I planned you way before universe was born. When you try to change yourself, it only makes me cry. I dont' know why you try to make better what I've made perfect.

Now, this may seem a little "poppy" and "bubblegum" but remember, I was 15. And I didn't ever NOT like my face, that wasn't the case. It was just a milemarker, a rite of passage for me as a young American girl to learn how to wear makeup and sport it daily. I was excited, of course. But this song does still strike a chord with me, years later when I no longer have a taste for boybands and the like.

The fact that Amy and I wake up every morning and apply our makeup in a routine we have fashioned to fit our particular style is just an example of how we have become warped by our culture. We both confided that we think we look better when we wear makeup, that we feel gross when we don't. I know I worry about the image I am wearing when I don't take time to present myself nicely. And don't get me wrong, I don't think makeup is bad and this is not a call for us women to throw away our Bobbi Brown's and CoverGirl's and burn our bras. I will wake up tomorrow and put mascara on my eyelashes, and I'll most likely remind myself that I am almost out and to buy more.

Isn't it strange, though, that we are almost subconsciously ashamed of our clean faces, the ones we were born with?

I look in the mirror at my thick eyebrows and lengthy eyelashes, at the zit on my cheek (thanks to a dirty cell phone keypad) and my chapped lips and hopefully, I can be more aware that I am looking at the natural me that God created. It isn't just a canvas to paint over to improve. I am healthy, and lucky. Blessed, to be honest.

My roommate and I are geniuses.