Ever since I can remember I’ve had a strong bond with makeup. It may stem from my older sister plastering me in electric blue eye shadow circa ‘83, my mum kissing me on the lips before she went out so it stained mine a soft pink, or my own eyeliner design on my little brother, who really knows. All I know right now is that I wear it every day, a huge percentage of my monthly income is spent on it and although I’m not on the same scale as TOWIE when it comes to shovelling it on, I can’t leave the house without it. Whether I choose to acknowledge it or not, my dependency on NARS, MAC and sometimes even Collection 2000 (don’t judge) has quietly positioned itself as my security blanket.
When I set myself the challenge, while slightly under the influence, to go a week without it I instantly regret saying it A. out loud and B. in front of witnesses.
As it stands, my daily makeup routine consists of a layer of Clarins moisturiser, followed by Clinique concealer (y’know the one. In pen form, the poor woman’s YSL Touché Éclat) then Benefits Eraser concealer, a very light slick of NARS foundation, sweep of Chanel In Pink blusher, three layers of MAC lush mascara and a touch of Jelly Pong Pong lip gloss. See, not that much really. Is it... is it?
Day 1
OK, so this is it. I’m actually going to leave the house like this. My skin is all patchy and different shades of ‘eugh’. With just a slick of moisturiser, a deep breath and a reassuring, “you can do it” from my flatmate I step out. Not daring to look up from the path I quick step it to the station. With the extra 30minutes usually spent on my makeup routine I catch a stupidly early train with plenty of seats, a first! I stick my head in a book and make no eye contact. At my stop, I see a girl valiantly trying to put eyeliner on while the train is stationary, I let out a little sigh of envy. *eyeliner*
While at work, I get lots of ‘are you OK?’ and ‘You look tired’ comments. Great, just want I want to hear.
Day 2
I have to meet our new Deputy Editor with no makeup on, wasn’t my most confident introduction. I was very aware of my bags.
“You look like a boiled egg,” was my boyfriend’s first insightful comment upon seeing my lack of mascara.
Day 3
Sick of my dull complexion I haul myself off for a facial and a face threading – without foundation to cover up, I am conscious of my face fuzz. It was a good idea and leaves me feeling erm, glowier.
Day 4
“You can’t wear that it’s makeup!” shrieks my colleague when I innocently pull out some lip-gloss… “But it’s clear. It doesn’t count.” I plead desperately. Nope apparently it does. And now I have dry lips.
I purchase some decent under eye highlighter/anti-wrinkle cream, a new moisturiser and vow to drink my body weight in water. If I can’t cover my face with nice creamy foundation then I’ll fake it with Clarins flash balm moisturiser.
Day 5
Oh no, my first social situation. I’m off to a friend’s BBQ where pictures will be taken, thus documenting my facial nakedness. Needless to say I will hunt down anyone who tags me on Facebook.
Day 6
DISASTER. The threading has brought me out in spots. Spots that I CAN’T cover as that would involve makeup. I want to scream. This sets me back 3 days and I revert back to staring at the floor not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.
Day 7
Spots aside, as there is nothing I can do about them, I've realised I am now a fan of a bare face and of not having to faff with makeup every day or have the constant worry of falling asleep without washing my face. It’s not the end of the world... or my pillow case.
Summary
After 7 days without makeup it would appear that I’m a little bit vain. As soon as the week was up I was reaching for my makeup bag, the one I’d hidden under my bed, out of sight n’ all that. But it was really just to cover the spots from my threading (mis)adventure. Blemishes aside, my bare necessities are now literally mascara, slick of concealer and cheek tint.
Makeup is a security blanket for most women, I’m not sure how or why, but it is. I’ve had bosses that can’t go into a meeting without a slick of power red lippie. But this little experiment has shown me that I don’t need it as much as I thought, which is great… for my bank balance if nothing else.
