the artifice of beauty

"God has given you one face, and you make for yourselves another." ~William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Now, the quote is not at all in the spirit of what is to follow, but I couldn't resist Hamlet's judgment on the use of makeup, vicious as it may be.

The thing is, I'm sometimes so tired of wearing makeup. I was thinking today how much simpler a morning routine must look to a guy (with the exception of facial shaving. I don't envy you gentlemen that -- although confessedly a razor is a handy way of getting rid of that dreaded upper lip hair, I don't have to plane a blade all over my cheeks and chin, which I do appreciate). You shower, gel your hair, dry it if necessary, get dressed, apply cologne, and go.

Here is mine in a very, very small nutshell. Lightly moisturize face. Apply green correcting fluid to all blemishes to cancel out redness and hide them. Apply ivory concealor to undereye shadows and creases in nose to cancel out the purpleness and keep me looking young. Apply the four different shades of eyeshadow -- base, main colors, dark shade for deepening outer corners of eyes and lower lash line. Apply eyeliner to upper lash line and blend. Apply double-coated mascara (white for volume, black-brown for definition and length). Apply blusher along cheekbones, forehead, nose, chin, and jaw for overall healthy, glowing appearance. Throw hair into some kind of order and run out the door. Oh crap. Forgot to change out of pajamas.

This usually takes fifteen to twenty-five minutes, depending on the number of zits (depending on the stage in the menstrual cycle) or the severity of tiredness which leads to deeper purple shadows.

There are many days when I delight in my sparkling appearance, created by subtle touches to what's already there. There are other days when I want to flout the social laws of beauty and run to work au naturale.

But generally I can only leave my face in its naked, bezitted glory on Saturdays when I don't plan on donning real clothes or leaving the house at all. I may sneak to the grocery store in my baggiest clothes and avoid everyone's eyes hoping no one is looking at me, but mostly when I'm out in public I have to "put my face on." It drastically affects my confidence and the manner in which I look at people, walk around, even smile.

Makeup is nothing new. Ancient Egyptians and Greeks used it; women in Shakespeare's time used it; women in the forties used it. And why? Why does beauty require a hiddenness of all minor imperfections?

I suppose that's obvious. But interestingly, I find that people seem more comfortable approaching me when I'm not wearing makeup. Not when I'm avoidy and furtive, but when I just don't frigging feel like putting it on and saunter outside defiant of all cultural mores and breeze around smiling, people like to talk to me. Maybe it makes me look friendlier, more natural, less put-together and therefore not intimidating. Maybe the confidence I get from having an artfully done-up face also makes me a little more aloof -- like there's a mask on. A mask a hundreth or a thousandth of a millimeter thick.

Dunno. But particularly when going to a club or restaurant, or heading to work, if I'm not wearing makeup I feel slovenly, freakish, and downright ugly. And that tends to put me down on myself.

So I continue to apply the liquids, powders and kohl. Besides, even if it's inconvenient, it really is very well done (I learned so much about makeup application from my mom, my Mary Kay consultant, MP, Madeleine L'Engle's Camilla, and participating in makeup crew in GCC theater), and if my insides aren't always put together, my outsides can be. Furthermore, I believe there is a great deal of dignity in maintaining one's appearance, and wearing makeup and classy clothes is part of the joy of being a well-put-together woman.

What do you think? Girls, does makeup suck sometimes? But doesn't it give you a rush of wellbeing and self-confidence when it's done right? Does it lend to a self-materialism where we try to hide our metaphysical blemishes? Does it enforce the good aspects of beauty and responsibility and self-care? Why do girls have such internal and external pressure to give such focused attention to their skin and appearance and guys don't?

And guys, how does shaving and masculine skin care compare? Do you think the world judges you, and that you should therefore judge yourselves, for having a beard, or blemishes? Do you ever wish you could conceal little imperfections? Do you conceal little imperfections?

Go on. True confessions.