Beauty Standard (of living)
I went roughly five days without showering last week. I'm not particularly stinky and I don't do much in the way of intense physical activity so the lack of bathing really only showed up in my grease-slicked bun (that I promised myself I would stop wearing since the tension of the twist fucks up my curl pattern.)
During this time, however, I still cleansed and moisturized my face twice daily and also wore makeup. My daily regimen consists of skin mattifying primer, concealer to cover red acne bumps, a separate brightening concealer for under my eyes, mineral foundation, mineral finishing power, brow wax, powder, and thickening gel, shimmering highlighting powder, bronzer, blush, eyelash curler on my eyes, and roughly four coats of two different mascaras followed by a dry brushing to remove clumps. Then maybe lipstick.
My hygiene didn't matter. My personal well-being didn't matter either. My face mattered.
Today I just used the primer, brow stuff, and one coat of mascara.
I feel disgusting.
I remember when I started wearing makeup. I think I was around 13. At first I stayed within the limits of glittered lip gloss and subtle eye shadow but quickly as my tribe became apparent I morphed into full on goth realness. I remember spending hours in front of the mirror blasting EBM or J-rock and feeling transformed after my face was complete. Bare faced I was plain, almost invisible. But with makeup I was the star of my own Anne Rice inspired teenage drama.
Now I feel like I am the undead. Most days in the light of my makeup mirror at 6AM I feel like I'm painting up a corpse. What is the fucking point of it, really? Is it really "for me?" Could I spend those thirty minutes meditating or taking my dog on a longer walk in the morning or maybe writing something other than sad blog posts?
Most analysis of the negative affects of beauty standards on women is deemed as archaic nowadays. Honestly, for most of my life I have been vocal about how fun it is to experiment with makeup, and maybe it is — until its not. Now it's just a fact of life. An obligation to remain a functioning member of the female sex.
("But if I just had better skin...")
Makeup has become less of a queenly adornment and more of a begrudging band aid for my self worth. I can't help but feel like it's that way for most women.