Today I had my makeup done by not one but two people. It took an hour. I don’t know if I feel special or depressed that it required two people to try to make me look decent for the photoshoot.
There were eyelashes applied, some serious foundation and concealer, then a hairstyle. And you know what? I look like me, just without the dark circles and stubby eyelashes. Oh yes and prettier, fuller hair.
You know that Prince song, ‘You got the look.’ The lyrics state that the girl must have taken a whole hour just to make up her face. For me, it took and hour and two people. Three counting the hairdresser. (Clearly I am struggling to get over this fact.)
The fact is, my normal makeup routine, which is worn maybe once a week now, requires nothing more than a tinted moisteriser and a lip butter by Revlon, my new fave lipstick (thanks for the tip Zoe Foster).
A spray of perfume and I am out the door. Lazy I know but who really cares. Who’s looking at me anyway? Not the Mum’s at school drop-off/pickup, who I love for admitting they don’t care. We boast about our mutual apathy and our lack of foundation garments as we catch each other wearing our pajamas to drop the bairns off.
My friends don’t care, they’ve who’ve seen me doing the ugly cry and certainly not my husband and kids.
Who can be bothered? I have realised that ageing is fighting a serious of battles against weight, grey hair, chin hair, eyesight, wrinkles and senility. Working out which one you want to conquer means you have to let a few others go. Managing them all is a fulltime job. I don’t need that job, I have one.
But gee I like these eyelashes….