Well, yesterday morning I woke up, looked in the mirror and thought 'Urgh... I look repulsive'. Most of the time when I despair over a spot, it's likely that nobody else even notices it, but trust me, this one wasn't about to go unnoticed by anyone. My mother asked me whether or not it was a cold sore and my brother laughed and said 'Have you got herpes?' No, it was not a cold sore or herpes, just a spot in a particularly annoying place on my face.
What did I do? Did I resolve to drink more water and eat more healthily to make my skin better? Did I remember my vow to accept my face in its natural state? Did I remind myself that spots are normal and nothing to be ashamed of?
Ha, of course I didn't. I went out earlier today and bought some more foundation.
In fact, I didn't even stop there. Whilst in Superdrug, I found myself being unexplicably drawn towards the little sticks of concealer. And I remembered that my mascara was really old and manky, so I got another one of those too. I left the shop £13.97 poorer (eek!) but in possession of some shiny new makeup to cover up my face and conform to the unrealistic ideals of beauty that society prescribes. So much for saving money.
Why do women feel the need to wear makeup? Did I walk out of Superdrug feeling happier? Inevitably not. Besides the fact that I'd just spent a ridiculous amount of money on beauty products, I was also faced with the depressing reality that I need manufactured chemical gunk on my face to make it look vaguely okay.
People always say things like, "Makeup just enhances your natural beauty", but to put it bluntly, it's bullshit. That perfect and even skin tone that somebody might admire isn't my perfect and even skin tone (supposing it was perfect and even, which it never is). It has come out of a container. And if my lashes look long, luxurious and full of volume like the adverts say they will, that's nothing to do with me. It's to be attributed to the costly mixture of water, wax thickeners, film-formers, and preservatives (thanks, Wikipedia) that came in the little black tube. Enhance? I don't think so. There's a product for hiding every inch of your so-called 'natural beauty', because that is makeup's purpose: to hide.
I'd like to know who decided that a flawless complexion and dark, sooty eyelashes made for the ideal woman. We could just as easily have decided that the variations in a natural skin tone made for a more interesting aesthetic viewing experience. We could have embraced the variety of hues that occur naturally in eyelashes, like we welcome different hair colours (except, for some reason, ginger, which I have never understood as I love red hair). Instead we are all brainwashed into thinking that the aforementioned traits are what we should strive for. Adverts assume without question that we want to look like that - why wouldn't they, as it earns the companies selling them billions of pounds - and it seems, after my spending spree, that I'm about as far from immunue to their persuasive effects as possible.
In my defence, I don't wear makeup to impress guys. I wear it because I think it makes me look better and because looking better makes me feel better. But it's so shallow. I certainly don't feel better when I think about how easily led I am, or how my self-image hinges on putting artificial crap on my face. But until society's idea of beauty changes, I will continue to spend stupid amounts of money on said artificial crap. And on chocolate, whose artificial happiness is probably what gave me the spots in the first place, but which I won't hear a word said against.
No comments:
Post a Comment