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I’ve never been a big fan of makeup.
I didn’t play with it as a kid. I didn’t beg to wear it as a preteen. I resisted it as a teenager.
As an adult, I still don’t wear much: a touch of foundation, a bit of blush, a smear of almost-clear lipstick. Rarely, a tiny amount of eyeshadow. I just don’t often bother.
I wore a tiny bit more eye makeup and (clear) mascara on my wedding day, and while it looked fine, I loathed the time it took and the hands around my face. The results were simply, to my mind, not worth the effort.
I don’t care if others want to, understand. I’m just not so interested in fussing over it myself. (My mom and I have argued about this for years.) Maybe if I were a beauty queen I’d feel differently. I’m not.
So, I found it interesting recently when I saw a TV segment on how Kathie Lee Gifford and Hoda Kotb actually taped a “Today” show without makeup. (In response to comments by Rosie O’Donnell, who also appeared on the show sans makeup.) Others from the show also appeared au naturel.
Good for them, I thought. Enough with all this equating a woman’s worth with how her face looks. More people should do that.
Or so I thought.
One recent lazy Sunday, I finally emerged from a day of housework, blinking, into the sunlight, strapped my boys into their car seats and set out for the week’s grocery shopping.
Halfway there, it popped into my head: I’m not wearing any makeup.
We were stopped at a red light. I frantically rummaged through my purse as it sat on the passenger seat. Nothing. I’d taken my small makeup bag out earlier when searching for one of my sons’ toys.
The only options were to turn around and drive back to the house ... unload two restless boys ... herd everyone into the house ... spend less than five minutes in the bathroom ... and then repeat the whole get-everyone-out-the-door process.
Or ... just continue on.
At the next light, I pulled down the overhead shade flap and its associated mirror and scrutinized my face.
The acne I’ve fought with since I was a teenager was taking a holiday, but there were the 50 zillion freckles summer had bestowed upon me, and the odd scar left by the aforementioned acne.
The face looked older, I thought, and tired. At the far side of 30 and the working mom of two busy boys, I come by both things honestly.
Heck with the makeup, I thought. I forgot about it before, I can forget about it now.
And I did.
I made it through the grocery shopping, check-out and trip home.
No one looked at me cross-eyed. No one gasped at my audacity. I survived just fine.
There’s nothing wrong with makeup. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look nice.
But when grown women — intelligent, practical, strong women — feel like they can’t appear in public looking, well, the way they really look ... maybe we need to rethink our priorities ... and what we’re teaching our daughters.
And the double-standard we’re teaching our sons.
Jill Keppeler is a page designer and columnist for the Tonawanda News. She can be reached at jill.keppeler@tonawanda-news.com.
Columns
KEPPELER: Facing the world
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