makeup

vignettes

(I’m trying out a new thing where I type in proper English. Let me know how you feel about it, please…)

I picked up makeup when I was 18, when I first entered college. I’m not sure what pushed me to start, but I do know that I started by doing nothing but black, winged eyeliner (quite horribly done, at that). I didn’t quite understand the concept of eyeliner, and how it was supposed to start at the outer corner of your eyes, and I walked around looking like some sort of deranged chink (I can say this, I’m Chinese) for a couple of weeks before I figured it out. I’m quite sure now, thinking back, that I started doing eyeliner because I thought the egirl look was Really Good. However my sense of fashion had not caught up to nearly anything yet, so reader, I implore you to imagine: me with ugly grey rectangular glasses, denim shorts, a white shirt, no makeup on my face except for some godawful eyeliner, and running shoes. Honestly? I’m surprised I had friends while I looked like that, and a small part of me says that: at least I know that my friends definitely like me for my personality, and not my looks.

Eventually I learned to do my makeup beyond eyeliner: blush, eyeshadow, lips, lashes… Four years on and I still haven’t quite figured out a good base routine for my dry skin, and usually forego it entirely. I’ve since moved on from thick, winged black eyeliner to a more delicate, wispy brown one; I stopped using eyeshadow quite quickly, thank god, though I do indulge in glitter sometimes; I’ve switched from a matte to glossy lip tint; my blush is much more subtle now. I’m still not very good at makeup — I feel like the girls who are experts at makeup are able to look drastically different with makeup, but I haven’t quite been able to reach that level yet. When I wear makeup, I just look like me-but-with-makeup.

All this to say: I picked up makeup at a time in my life when I was discovering I had severe anxiety. Doing my makeup before I left for school became part of my routine — I started getting ready an extra 15 minutes before I had to leave, then gradually 20, then 30 minutes as my makeup routine got more elaborate. Before I discovered makeup, I would sit, paralyzed by anxiety and nauseous, waiting till I had to leave the house. But now I had something to do with myself, something to fill the time — something I could throw myself wholly into, that didn’t just distract me from my anxiety but take me out of it entirely. (It’s hard to have the spare mental capacity for anxiety when 100% of my mental effort was going into drawing not just one, but two symmetrical perfect wings for my eyeliner.) Doing my makeup was and continues to be an incredibly grounding routine, almost meditative in the concentration needed, and as my anxiety has (somewhat) lessened over the years I’ve relied less and less on my makeup routine to cope with anxiety. But on particularly bad days, you’ll still find me sat in front of the mirror for 45 minutes, indulging in an extremely elaborate eyeshadow look, and inevitably showing up for whatever it is I’m going for looking ridiculous.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go spend 20 minutes trying to nail the perfect smoky eyeliner…