I love roman numerals. Thanks to Final Fantasy & being bored in church when I was young, I learned how to read them fairly easily. I love the way they look, not sure why. ANYWAYS…I apologize for the last blog entry. I started it with enthusiasm then just wanted to post it without actually getting to the point I was trying to make. Derp.
The point I was trying to make the other day, is how interesting it is that a week of not wearing makeup is a huge internal struggle for a lot of people. It’s surprising when you hear it, but if you think about it, it makes complete sense. I don’t really know how to explain it properly, maybe it’s a woman thing? I don’t know. I rarely wear makeup most of the time now, I never really feel the need unless i’m bored at 4am, or we’re going somewhere that requires a little more time on my face, but even then sometimes I don’t bother. There’s something that’s empowering wearing makeup, and something equally empowering about not wearing any at all. To use the word ’empowering’ on something as small as little squares of colored powder & mineral cover-up seems a bit much to lots of people, but to some…it makes sense on a different level. I can’t explain it, so i’ll show you some gut-wrenching photos of myself, yes?
The main point of spamming my blog with old photos of me, which you can clearly see my hair changes a lot, i’ll add a bonus uber hair photo at the end. The point is, in school…I wore makeup either a lot or not at all. It scared people, which looking through a lot of these photos…it scares me too. When I wore makeup, I felt even more confident in school. My hair spoke louder than anything else I wore though, so to me…makeup wasn’t the deciding factor. I will however include hair dye into this abomination of a paragraph because I relate to it better in the way that a lot of women relate to their makeup.
I dyed my hair. A lot. Every few weeks, different color, more backcombing, even more conditioner to get tangles out. It was my sweet little moment of clarity & sanity. Bleaching, coloring, watching the bathtub become a murder scene of dye flowing and staining everything it touched. My hands, even with gloves, were stained with evidence. Not being able to dye my hair however…was hard. Sure, I COULD go without doing it…but I didn’t feel right. I would feel trapped, weird, thrown off my routine and ability to change what I need. It was a need. I was addicted to it, I felt off and wrong if I didn’t change my hair every few weeks. That sounds drastic i’m sure, but I know more than enough women who know what I mean, simply by not wearing makeup for a day. Or even a few hours. It’s ingrained into you at this point and it feels like you’re betraying something if you don’t do it.
It’s amazing how much the little things make you feel so off if you don’t do them. You don’t realize how much it has, well…become a part of you. My hair is my little slice of happy, usually anyways. I went a little mad when we shaved it off (most of it) a few years ago. There was nothing to backcomb, nothing to dye really. I felt it was a good choice, my hair was coming out in little handfuls because I abused it so much, so…started fresh to start the cycle all over again.
Anyways, i’m pretty done with this. Any intelligence I had is now gone. We have lost intelligence, I repeat, we have lost INTELLIGENCE. I think I might have to watch Team America after. Hahaha.
What’s YOUR take on the whole ‘No Makeup Week’? Thoughts?