mascara and lipstick

I am not good with makeup. This makes no sense, since my mother was a stone cold fox back in the day, leaving a trail of  marriage proposals,  broken hearts and white gloves wherever she went. I am also blessed with THREE sisters, who, in between psychologically torturing me, dissing my love life and always getting shotgun, could have at least taught me how to curl my eye lashes. 

Somehow, despite the overwhelming femaleness of my household, no one was very girly, and as a result, none of my sisters really know what to do with makeup. If I needed advice on how to swim the butterfly or sing off key, I would have been set, but what do with foundation or how to apply eye shadow, and they were useless.

This lack of knowledge has been fine for most of my life. I look okay, a bit thin lipped, squinty eyed and freckly, but mostly okay. It's not like I never wear makeup, on the day of my wedding I made an effort with the unguents and potions and creams - though I was careful not to go overboard - there's nothing weirder than not actually looking like yourself in your wedding pictures.

Lately, though, I've started to realise I need to up my game.  I'm on the wrong side of 35, and I can't get away with thinking that my youthful cuteness will mask my awkward wardrobe, sproingy hair or increasingly wrinkly face.

I need makeup, is what I'm saying.

So I made a vow to myself not to go to work without mascara. This isn't the first time I've resolved to care more about my appearance. When we moved overseas I decided that it was a new me, on a new continent, and that from now on I'd wear mascara and lipstick every day. I trotted out of the house on that first day, feeling like a glamorous and mysterious femme fatale with my "full" face of makeup on. I had a bunch of errands, including sorting out my new identity card. The photo on my carte d'identité is totally smoking... I've got sultry eyes, full lips and non-crazy hair. I was thrilled. The new me was going to totally rock. I'd start wearing scarves and heels everywhere! I was going Full Euro!

The next day, and I am not exaggerating, I woke up with an eye infection, a sty, and a giant ulcerating cold sore on my lip. By the time all of my various makeup-induced ailments had cleared up, I'd lost my enthusiasm for the project.

This time it's different, though. I'm no longer a girlish 30, but deep, deep into the decade... My eyes need to "pop" and  my lips need to be embiggened, I've been wearing mascara for a few months now, without eye-infections of Biblical magnitude raining down on me, so maybe it's safe to try lipstick... Who knows, maybe I'll even dig out those scarves I bought all those years ago and have never felt I could carry off...