Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the biggest consumer of all?
It all started innocently enough: a tube of Lip Smackers in elementary school. A few years later, it was replaced with cheap lip gloss. A black eyeliner pencil joined the lineup soon after—and so I spent a couple of years looking like a wounded raccoon.
Before I knew it, I was hooked. It seemed there was always something new to be had, something that would make me look, and therefore feel, like I was enough. Various (read: nefarious) beauty blogs, zines, adverts, and media reinforced this insecurity.
Of course they do! Insecurity breeds consumption—and so “big makeup” makes its billions of dollars, wiping happy tears with our hard-earned cash.
I also felt compelled to subject myself to all sorts of questionable cleansers, scents, treatments—the list goes on—but I never really ended up feeling better about my features, and my sensitive skin remained in a state of mildly-messed-up.
“For the average woman, that’s $15,000 in a lifetime and two weeks per year.”
Then, there’s my partner and legions of his fellow males, whose faces only regularly come into contact with water and maybe a multitasking wash or a shaving cream. They look fine, and are judged as competent and put together as they are.
Bernie Sanders, bless him, can look as frumpy and grandfatherly as he pleases, yet Hillary Clinton has to look made-up and ageless at all times. A new haircut or a bad day gets a disproportionate amount of media attention.
That’s the “makeup tax.” It’s the unwritten rule that women must invest their limited time, energy and money into their appearance in order to be deemed worthy of recognition. For the average woman, that’s $15,000 in a lifetime and two weeks per year.
It’s no secret that society is biased towards attractive people. This preference is ingrained in our nature, and enhanced by our society. Parents unconsciously treat good-looking children better. Women who are attractively made-up are more likely to be awarded prestigious jobs.
Makeup itself is not the culprit. It can be functional and necessary, a form of expression, a confidence boost, a tribute to one’s beliefs and traditions. But never before in history have we consumed so many non-essential goods, hoarded so many luxuries, submitted to so many impossible standards.
“It’s no secret that society is biased towards attractive people.”
Five lipsticks could be a camping trip with friends. That bottle of foundation? Two or three hours of work in a bottle. There’s precious time spent on application, removal, and wondering what to try next.
And so, I quit. I refuse to buy makeup anymore. My compulsive, perfectionistic self does not play well with big makeup companies’ grand claims of self-improvement.
Since breaking off my long-term affair with makeup, my skin has rapidly improved and I feel comfortable with myself. On a daily basis, I only really need two homemade makeup products, and three for skincare. No one stares or points at my dark circles and blemishes.
If beauty is your trade or passion, then power to you. If you have specific needs that store-bought cosmetics meet, there’s no need to feel bad. Ditto if you found a handful of products that make you feel like your best self. But makeup shouldn’t have to be obligatory or taxing, with an accompanying minefield of restrictive rules. All people should have the right to look imperfect and tired and human—or however else we wish to look.
Sadly, I’ll probably have to continue wearing concealer to job interviews.
Photo by Mariah Bridgeman/The Ontarion.