Makeup or Not?
I never understood the obsession girls had with adding several coloured chemical substances of unknown sources to their faces and deriving a sick sense of beauty and elegance from it. Call me a hater and I would gladly accept. I never understood what all the fuss was for. Yeah, they looked good in pictures but when you had the unfortunate displeasure of beholding the sight in real light, you discover patches and patches of strange substances dripping down the poor girl’s face.
Now, hold on. All this antagony does not come from a place of hate or malice. I just hate the fact that a girl would depend on such things to define her beauty for her. Hold on, before I get philosophical here, I want to tell you that I have used makeup before. Maybe the whole experience added to my hate for the whole concept but I can’t tell. So, I’ll tell you the whole story.
So, there I was living my life as an undergraduate peacefully. Reveling in my loaf of bread and butter which I hoped to digest with a bottle of soft drink later on. I had just completed my assignments and my combined project with another class. I had no responsibilities at that moment and I was on top of the world. Living a happy life of peace with no care in the world except how chilled I wanted my soft drink.
A call comes in. I look at my screen and for a minute, I choke. The bread decides to clutch to my throat and refuse to let go. I could not believe that I would ever see that name displayed on my screen. Ever. David was calling. I had no idea he had my number but I had his. I got it through means too undignified to mention. Before I could get over my choking experience, clear my throat and get my vocal throat ready to serenade the young man over the phone, the call had disconnected. Before I could start wailing my stupidity, my screen came alive again. David. I wasted no time in picking it up this time.
“Hello” David said.
“Hello… Hi” Somehow, all of a sudden, by love’s special intervention, I was sounding normal.
“Ada. Good evening. It’s David.” He said. Or more like, he sang. He had the sweetest voice I had ever heard. Deep but also light. He carried it with an ease that comes from constant public speaking.
“I know it’s David.” I’ve had your number tattooed on my brain since the day I got it, months ago, I almost said but for the fear of sounding desperate and like a complete psychotic stalker, I opted for silence.
“Alright. Good. So…”
When David called me, I just felt he had some very important information to pass to me. Maybe the world was coming to an end or something equally dramatic because we never talked in school. We never had any conversations except the usual casual greetings. So, when he called that day and started his small talk, to say I was surprised would be a great understatement. I mean, we had small talk. It was the most unusual thing I had ever heard or had the pleasure to listen to.
Like I had imagined, he was an amazing conversationalist. We moved from one topic to another seamlessly and in a matter of minutes, I had discovered some of his hobbies and what his favorite dog is called. I was on top of cloud nine. Here I was, in the comfort of my bedroom, eating the best combination ever invented by man- the bread and butter and also anticipating another chilling experience with a bottle of Coca-Cola. As if that was not enough, I received a heart warming call from the most eligible bachelor in the whole world. I must have done something right, I figured.
Our calls went on like this several more times. Surprisingly, while we could go on and on on the phone for hours on end, we never spoke a word to each other face to face. It was a mystery to me. I was a pretty girl. Pretty enough. So, I did not think he was maybe ashamed of being seen with me. Giving it a second thought, I decided that that should be the reason why he is staying away. During class, he always made sure he avoided me and would purposely avoid direct communication with me but he never failed to call me and we will talk non-stop about anything and everything, cleverly avoiding the elephant in the room.
Now, I told you I was pretty enough. I know that personally but I didn’t think anyone else did. I started to feel an itching need to be seen. To be attractive, to turn heads. I knew I would be able to do it if I tried. I knew I would be able to make David talk to me face to face even if he didn’t know how to or didn’t want to.
Operation Get David To Talk To Me In Real Life was on!
First day, I decided to put on skinny jeans to class as opposed to the baggy shorts I usually opted for in my laziness and negligence. I combined it with a pink lacy crop top that my roommate bought for me on my birthday to try to get me to dress like a girl. The top settled nicely on the rim of my jeans, thereby making my curves pronounced. I didn’t own one feminine footwear. All I had were big sneakers and crocs. So, I opted for my black crocs. Instead of wearing a snapback, I decided to actually do something to my hair. I combed it! A very painful decision, I tell you. I styled it and I guess I was looking decent enough because as I walked out, heads turned. I was moving in the right direction.
By the time I got to class, everybody was already seated and so I had to walk in front of the whole class to my seat. I pleaded with the ground to open up and swallow me but it refused. Walking awkwardly in my crocs and skinny jeans, I wobbled to a seat behind. I could have sworn the hall became quieter as soon as I walked in. I hoped David was watching.
The class couldn’t end soon enough and I found myself fidgeting, turning back and forth, trying to use my surveillance skills to figure out if David had seen my less than elegant walk to my seat. After looking back and forth and finally coming to the sad conclusion that the young man who I had gotten all pretty for was absent, I relaxed into my seat, sad and feeling angry because I had wasted an afternoon of comfortable and ugly clothes.
“I’ll see you in the next class.” The lecturer announced as he moved out of the class.
So much for dressing up, I thought to myself, almost feeling my eyes well up with tears. I had already gathered my books and was about to move out when David stepped in front of me. I caught my breath and looked at him, holding my breath and waiting for him to say something but he just smiled. I’ve never seen him smile like that. In fact, I had never seen his face up close before. It was a good experience and all I had to do was change how I dressed.
“Ada. Hi” That voice. Sounded even better in the flesh than over the phone.
“Hi.” I croaked. For some reason, I had lost my voice. I had been so sure that everything was under control. We would talk and talk and talk till the saliva dried up in our mouths. I had such great plans but I had lost my voice. I didn’t have the words to speak. So we kept smiling at each other until he finally broke the silence.
“You look beautiful, by the way. Nice top.”
“Thank you” I said.
“Alright. See ya.” And with that, he walked out.
Not exactly the conversation I had imagined but it was better than nothing.
And that was how I began the deep dive into my drastic change into what later became a caricature of the person I used to be.
Although we didn’t have the long conversations face to face like we had over the phone, he said more than two sentences. This, to me was an enormous improvement and it was all because of the skinny jeans and crop tops. I thought maybe if I went further, I could attract other guys and if I’m lucky, some of them would make advances, David would get jealous and then have no other choice but to be seen with me so he would establish some kind of territorial dominance over me. I wanted to be possessed, don’t blame me. It was a grand plan. My grand plan. So I thought of how much further I could actually go.
The skinny jeans had already caused rashes and burns in my inner thighs but I didn’t care. I thought of the smile I saw on David’s face that day. The show, sweet smile and I decided that I wanted him to always smile at me that way. So, I got more skinny jeans and more crop tops. I had no idea how vast the variations were. I was lost in an ocean of clothes and my roommate was only too glad to help since she had always been looking for an opportunity to dress me up. But even with all these drastic changes, I knew I had to do more. Get prettier. And I knew how I would achieve that feat. Makeup.
Using makeup had never appealed to me. I had never been one to stand in front of the mirror and obsess over my beauty. So, the whole concept of makeup was lost to me. But, I needed her at that moment.
.
I decided to try it out. Join the in-thing. Do something that is in vogue for the first time in my life. So, I went forward. Visited Mama Nosa’s shop, the bleached woman that sold makeup products outside my hostel. Her bleached skin looked bloated, her veins looking for ways of escape. It was a hideous and repulsive sight and I was disturbed. Should I receive beauty tips or directions from this kind of person? I was mortified.
I summoned enough courage to say what I wanted as advised by the countless videos I had saved and downloaded on YouTube. I bought the basics first- a compact powder, a pencil, eyeshadow palette, a foundation and a nude lipstick. I’ve never understood how those girls did it. How they managed to paint their faces in different colours and still managed to look decent and I decided to try.
I went back home all giddy and ready for a new experience. I turned on my first YouTube video that promised a 30-second tutorial for beginners. Worst thirty seconds of my life. How she (the beautiful Nubian goddess on my screen) expected me to look like her at the end, I had no idea. After several unsuccessful trials, I opted for just the powder, pencil and nude lipstick and applied it the way I saw my roommate do every day. After looking at the mirror, I decided that I looked decent enough and would wear a replica of that same look to class the next day.
Makeup changed my life. It became the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. David could not avoid being seen with me. He never left my side. He was with me all the time, telling me how beautiful I was and how he’s so happy he met me. I was on top of the world. Makeup became the god I secretly worshipped. I would bow at her feet, unfailingly every morning with religious fervency. I was growing in the religion too. I could now use more materials than I could at first and with every new addition to the list, David came closer. But then the day that would reveal everything came.
That day, I tried putting on makeup but it didn’t exactly go the way I planned. You feel like you’re doing something right and you’re onto something. All your brushes in place, your compact powder, your different shades of eyeshadow on your palette, with every colour under the sun that even the rainbow was jealous of your combination, your black eyeliner and mascara. Everything was perfect but I couldn’t summon the will or energy for the process again. It’s been six months since I had been converted into this religion. It had been the most uncomfortable months of my life.
Uncomfortable, yet pleasing since I eventually got what I wanted. That morning though, I did not want to do anything. It was the first day of my menstrual cycle and I was really tired. I couldn’t summon the energy needed but I was not too bothered as l believed David wouldn’t mind. I liked to tell myself that I was certain that he had begun to love me for me. Well, that morning, I reverted to the Ada of ancient times and as I walked to class, I realised that I had not felt the cool breeze on my face in that way for a long time. I felt free and happy. I couldn’t wait to share my happiness with David but he didn’t look at me.
It came as a shock. I mean, we had just had the most amazing conversation that morning before I left for school. Now, I could see the disappointment and distaste boldly written on his face. A cloud of sadness immediately came over me and I tried to get over the fact that David was ashamed of being seen with a girl like me in public. He did not like the fact that I was not like the other girls. Sweetly dressed, all made up and sophisticated. Slowly, my sadness began to metamorphose into unbridled anger. How dare he?!
I stood up and went over to where he was. If I was not staring intently at his face, I would not have seen the slow way he averted his gaze from my direction.
“David.” I called as I stood in front of him.
“Yeah?” He answered flippantly.
“What’s the problem? Are you ashamed of me?”
Now, he was quiet. I was secretly grateful that he did not try to be stupid and act like he did not know what I was talking about. Instead of continuing in the awkward silence, he decided to take his bag and walk out of the class. Great.
That was the last time I talked to David. Either on the phone or in real life. If he thought he could not associate with my kind of beauty when I was bare and myself, then he had no reason to pretend to like me.
Since then, I’ve declared a never ending war against makeup. Never again would I let it define my beauty. Now, make up is not bad but what has it become to you? A necessity or a choice? Have you let it define your beauty?
Image source: pixabay license provides for free commercial use and no attribution is required.
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