If there is one aspect of the beauty world that I don’t give two hoots about, it’s going barefaced. Whether I’m popping out for a pint of milk or spending the whole day venturing outside the house I’m really not bothered if all that is veiling my complexion is moisturiser and a layer of SPF. It hasn’t always been this way. In my late teenage years I was a big believer in the miracles that a coat of mascara and a quick dab of concealer can do; two products which I still do believe in the power of. But it wasn’t until I reached my twenties that I realised that those quick swipes and strokes really aren’t necessary. Sometimes - ain’t nobody got time for that. It’s a threefold reason and a tale that I thought I’d cover for today’s instalment of me, myself and my laptop…
Firstly, no one cares. I highly doubt any fellow commuters standing in my carriage have ever pondered that my face was in need of a little extra coverage. “And that spot? What an eyesore”. Yep, not gonna happen. They’re more interested in Candy Crush.
Then there’s the aspect of moderation. I quite like the moment after a barefaced day or two when it comes to sitting myself back down on my dressing table chair. A little break is always good for the creative juices and it gets me excited for that day’s makeup menu. Lame but true. It makes me fall back in love with the pretty stuff all over again.
But most importantly – I like myself. Sure there are sometimes when I’m blowdrying my hair upside now, naked, and catch a flash of a few unflattering folds and ripples in the mirror but I forget about that episode as soon as someone offers me a biscuit. There are things that are wonky, small or big, but there are redeeming features that balance it all out and luckily although I inherited some questionable (read: hairy) traits from my father, I’ve got all the best bits of my Mum. Me and the mirror we’re friends. Not to a ‘every time I pass a car I check myself out in the mirror’ degree (anyone ever done that when there’s a passenger in the car?), but we get along.
A tale odeing to a love of barefaced being may seem a bit bizarre from a person who writes ditties about products every single day and has boxes of the stuff crammed into every single crevice of her flat, but the reason I love makeup so much is not because it’s necessary, but more it’s an accessory. It’s fun, creative, a way to experiment with colour (I know, I know – but I do sport the odd red lip from time to time).
So I guess my conclusion is that just because we’re a bunch makeup mavens, it doesn’t mean we have to paint the stuff on everyday. Beauty comes from within, barefaced or not, and the fact that it’s what inside that counts is a good thing for me because all that is concealed in my persons is a tray full of brownies and a Ben’s Cookie or two. And boy are they beautiful.