Bare Faced

Hi Cookies!

A Dear Pigeon sent me this NY Times article a couple days ago, the latest in the “Make-Up Free Movement” conversation.

I have a few comments. Of COURSE I do! I’m PeaceBang and commenting is what I DO! It’s what I LIVE FOR!*

My first comment is to echo Miss Dolly Parton as the character Truvy in “Steel Magnolias” who said, “There’s no such thing as natural beauty.”

My second comment is to quote RuPaul, who said, “We’re born naked. The rest is drag.”

My third comment is to observe that the women featured in the article just happen to be really young. Cough, cough.

Look, you know who you’re talking to here. You know what I’m going to say. I am a devotee of the performing arts and the fine arts. I consider make-up and hair style an expression of personal aesthetics. On a practical level, make-up helps public speakers to be better seen from the back rows.

I think the idea that it’s somehow morally superior to go around with a bare face (as Sutton Foster insinuates in her snide remark that she would rather go out into her day without spending a lot of time looking in the mirror” — sure, Sutton, speak for all the young, gorgeous Broadway stars who spend every night getting standing ovations from an adoring public) is patently ridiculous. In fact, it’s offensive. When I sit at my dressing table and mess around with my face, it’s no different than Sutton Foster making up her face backstage and preparing to play Reno Sweeney or Milie: it’s a preparation to be seen, a transitional act that helps me to transition from contemplative introvert to participant in community.
It’s also a lot of fun and interesting and connects me to my mother and father and the hours I spent sitting on the bathroom hamper listening to WNEW and watching my Dad shave his face and style and comb his hair, and my mom apply lipstick, mascara, and eyeshadow. Make-up and grooming is a cherished ritual for me. I’m not “staring at myself in the mirror” when I get ready for my day. I’m remembering, and reflecting, and mentally preparing.

Some days I don’t wear make-up, or hardly any, but on those days, I am not expected to represent any institution, to have my photo (potentially) taken, or to communicate to a community that I consider it an honor to work with them.

Bare faces and hair that hasn’t been styled look casual, undone and in many instances, inappropriately and naively so (“I’m clean and ironed, shouldn’t that be enough?”).

There is a time and a place for a fresh scrubbed look. For most women in public leadership, PeaceBang remains consistently on message by asserting that some proficiency with some blush, concealer, lipstick and eyebrow pencil is a good thing.

*Bonus pigeon points for you if you get the Disney villainess reference.

7 Replies to “Bare Faced”

  1. For me, the article is quite offensive. The women portrayed in it are very young. They are light skinned, dark haired, and have quite lovely faces. I am hurtling towards 50, have light skin and multitoned hair (that’s between me and my hairdresser) and rarely leave the house without something on my face.

    I am of the opinion that on those days when I dash to the local drug store without brushing my hair or doing “something” with my face, that’s when I run into a parishioner or a stranger who wants to talk. And I feel embarrassed.

    Sunday morning, putting makeup on is part of my routine. In a way, it’s like wearing the armour of God. Not in a defensive way, but putting my best face forward.

    When I teach I make sure to wear makeup so I can be seen everywhere in the room. When I don’t wear makeup I get asked “are you ill, are you okay”? ALL THE TIME.

    If I get called out in the middle of the night, I wash my face and apply mascara and lipstick. Because I don’t want to appear ill.

    For me, it’s about showing my best side to those I care about, and about caring for myself.

    My entire routine, including shower, face, hair, makeup and dressed is 20 minutes. A few minutes longer if I have to shave my legs. It doesn’t have to take hours to get dressed. But if it does for you, and that is part of your routine, then go with it.

    What offends me is the insinuation that if you care about your appearance, you’re being shallow or don’t care enough about God. Horse pucky I say.

    Thanks for the opportunity to vent. Now I have to go reapply my lippy. [Pigeon Salute!! – PB]

  2. I am a nurse, and I remember one of my instructors in nursing school telling us women that we should put on makeup for work. I still abide by, and agree with, her sentiment. There is something professional about making yourself presentable. I don’t want my patients to think I rolled out of bed and came to work. That I would really rather be anywhere else. That they aren’t important enough to put on lippy for. It’s really not about the make-up, it’s about the attitude. I value myself and my interaction with you.

  3. I’ve got this “thing” going on with my face and I’m not allowed to put anything on it, but I told the dermatologist I WOULD put on some concealer on Sunday mornings because (a) I’m self-conscious about it and (b) I don’t want people thinking “what’s going on with her skin?” instead of worship. (It really is red and angry looking). I’ve also been extra careful about using eye make up and lipstick so that those two features don’t disappear.

    And I think of a dear friend of mine. When I remarked on how conscientious she is about wearing make up EVERY DAY (and has been for the past 40+ years), she replied, “Oh, yes, my dear, the court order was quite clear on that point”!

    (And didn’t EVERYONE grow up listening to WNEW? 1130 in New Yooooooooork!)

  4. Its rare to have a quote that illustrates two of your posts: Bare Faced and Speaking Clearly.

    “Ms. Weiss agreed. ‘We’re conditioned to think that ……The more you do, the more sort of frivolous you are, maybe.'” [BAM! There you go! – PB]

  5. I found I was ‘hiding’ behind makeup so one year for lent I didn’t wear makeup. I found it helpful as a way to symbolise me being more open, honest, more ‘myself’ and also a focus on looking after myself i.e. getting more sleep instead of just putting on concealer. [I have done this myself and found it helpful and illuminating. – PB]

    Still, I happily went back to daily make up. I do feel much happier with some care taken with my face and hair, even on days when I’m unlikely to see anyone much.

  6. I’m confused. If make up is about transitioning to a public face, and making public speakers more visible to the audience, why should only women wear it? [Women shouldn’t only wear it. Men have worn it at different points in history and I wish they would do so now, but you know – socialization and all that. – PB]

  7. It helped me to realize a few years ago that “makeup” didn’t mean I had to conceal all of my real and imagined flaws. I don’t wear a lot any more – just lipstick, tinted moisturizer, and a little eyebrow pencil. (I overdid the eyebrow shaping during my misspent youth, and now that they’ve lightened a little help goes a long way.) When I freshen up just before giving a talk, the massage I give my face while applying moisturizer is really the main beauty treatment.

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