They can be spotted from a mile away. Once a rare half-breed of women, known solely through urban legend, their exponentially budding presence on our streets is becoming a tangible dilemma. We undoubtedly each know a handful of them, causing us to routinely engaging in gossip about the Intervention-style confrontation needed to help them put their shambolic lives back on track. The makeup misdemeanour is threatening all that is beautiful in the world.
It is easy to get lost in our overwhelmingly aesthetic culture, which thrives off of verbs such as dyeing, plucking, straightening, shaving, lacquering, pencilling, brushing, waxing, glossing, and curling …to name a few. But since when has multi-hued layers of eye shadow resembling the fierce war paint in Avatar (matched perfectly to your outfit) been seductively endearing? And at what time did shimmering bronzer and blush overloads à la Edward Cullen prancing under the sun begin to catch the fancy of men?
Apparently, some of you didn’t get the memo. Cosmetics, from the Greek word kosmētikós, are understood to enhance your natural loveliness; the point is not to perform daily facial modification surgeries, mistaking your makeup appliances as medical apparatus, before even considering leaving the house. Those obsessively mascara-ed false eyelashes you glued on before you hit the town didn’t create that come-hither appeal; instead, you resembled the victim of a tarantula-mauling incident. However, the two equally ghastly cosmetic misdemeanours that battle for the Palme d’Or (or maybe that simply really grind my gears) are caked-on poorly blended concealer and over-plucked, pencilled-back-in eyebrows.
Firstly, pounding on infinite layers of concealer isn’t going to eradicate those zits. You’re ironically highlighting the uneven, agitated surface and drawing even more attention to it, thus drawing the eye towards the rutted landscape of your skin. A subcategory of this offence includes not understanding your skin tone. Whether you’re in denial about your heritage or simply blind, the majority of women are smearing on the wrong colour: this ranges from racoon-inspired, chalky under eye concealer, to dark orange streaks of foundation at your jaw line.
Secondly, pretty please step away from those tweezers. There is nothing attractive about appearing to be in a permanent state of shocked bewilderment. Being of Middle Eastern decent (where this specific misdemeanour couldn’t be more entrenched), I am used to conversing with female relatives who seem persistently surprised at anything said to them, thus leaving me hypersensitive to the over plucked eyebrow. Doodling and scrawling on anorexic tadpoles above your eyes with pencil is equally nauseating.
I have a dream, and that dream is to exist in a world where it is known far and wide throughout the lands how to apply cosmetics without looking like a clown preparing for a native war. I hope to see the day when that dream transpires into a reality.