I’ve wanted to write about not wearing makeup for years. For a long time, it felt like a defining feature of who I was. I didn’t cover my acne; experiment with garish eye shadow colors; experience the horrible realization that there is lipstick on your teeth; or deal with mascara in two crucial parts of adolescence: crying and sweating (mood swings and social anxiety: a truly dangerous combination for middle schoolers).
There were times when it made me self-conscious. I wondered if people saw me as inherently less attractive because my eyes didn’t pop the way other girls’ eyes did when they wore eyeliner and mascara. If the red dots on my face somehow implied that I didn’t take care of my skin. If that refusal to put the effort in made people think that I didn’t care about the way I looked.
As I’ve grown older, the alternating perspectives on how it can be feminist and empowering to both wear makeup or choose to go without it have inspired conflicting feelings. Should I be proud that I’m not putting effort into my appearance so that a man will find me more attractive? Should I be embarrassed that I’m not accentuating the features that make me beautiful? Am I more or less confident in my appearance for not wearing makeup? Do people think I’m judging them for choosing to add cosmetics to their morning routine? The questions reel around and around, and the articles on the subject are infinite. Everyone has reasons why they do or don’t wear makeup, and, for whatever reason, I’ve never really had a good answer for it.
I’m a proud feminist, and I’m relatively confident in the way I look. On special occasions, I’ll put on some red lipstick and feel like I could take on the world. On normal days, the only cosmetics I add are a grin at the mirror before heading out the door. And I don’t know why I’ve ever needed to explain those actions.
Because all I can say is that I don’t wear makeup. It’s not an explicit statement. I don’t think any less or better of myself, my femininity, or my place in society for choosing not to wear makeup. For so long, I wanted a reason why. I wanted to take a stand, to explain my intentions, to make my decision something to talk about. However, there is a world of things, people, ideas, and causes that I’d rather take a stand on than something as inconsequential as the particles and pigments I do or do not add to my face.
Perhaps I didn’t even need to write this article. But maybe I did. If this is your cause, if your decision (not) to wear makeup is based in a reason worth sharing with the world, then all the more power to you. Speak loudly and proudly. There is a cause worth standing on here. I just I don’t know if that soapbox is one that I can do justice.
When I first pitched this piece, I was excited to talk about my choice to remain bare-faced 363 days out of the year. It always felt like a statement, but for me, maybe it’s just a statement. “I don’t wear makeup.” Ultimately, the question is: do I really need to have a reason?
Image credits: Taylor Hazan