On Friday this week, I hastily applied makeup in my car while parked in a driveway. It was an odd location for doing so, but my busy day, which started with a 6:00 morning run, followed by volunteer work at the livestock sanctuary, followed by a dash to my brother’s house to meet a plumber, left no time for enhancing my appearance. Well, I did take a quick shower after scooping poop at the livestock farm, but that was more of an accommodation to the plumber; I did not want to greet him at the door with the odor of horse manure wafting around me.
But after the plumbing mission, I had a dentist appointment. The odds that the plumber would arrive at the start of a two-hour service window and complete his work in time for me to drive home and spruce up were infinitesimal. I am aware that clean teeth are more important for a dental appointment than cosmetic embellishment, and I intended to brush and floss beforehand. But I have known my dentist for over a decade, and I did not wish to alarm him with an unkempt image.
It had been some time since I had applied makeup in a car. Well, unless you count Tuesday this week when I brought some beauty essentials to Bailey’s vet appointment so I could spruce up in the parking lot. But technically this did not count; the vet techs assured me the appointment would be so quick, I could just wait for Bailey in the waiting room, so there was no time to run back to the car.
I am no stranger to applying cosmetics in random places. On the occasional day when I work out at our office gym, the office bathroom and shower is convenient. When my mother was in an assisted living facility, I would bring a small bag of cosmetics when visiting her. While she was munching on cereal or chatting with my brother, I would dip into her bathroom to tidy up before going to work. Airport restrooms are a natural spot for facial rejuvenation. I mean, who doesn’t want to refresh at the end of a red-eye flight?
I have applied makeup in parking lots numerous times. One event was embarrassing when the mother of one of my son’s friends knocked on the window to tease me. More peculiar is the random traffic signal application. It’s been years since I put on mascara and lipstick during a red light, but it is a task that is easily completed in one minute and thirty seconds. Putting on makeup on the fly can be an efficient use of time.
When I was young, I would carry a few beauty essentials in my purse so that I could do touchups in the high school ladies’ room. In those days, powdering my nose was intended to enhance my appearance. These days, it is because I do not want to horrify my children or worry my co-workers. I have heard far too many comments from others that someone looks awful and must not be feeling well when they appeared au naturel. I frankly thought that they had just neglected to apply undereye concealer and powder blush. But you get my point.
I am all about body positivity and self-acceptance, and there are times when I consider throwing in the towel on facial embellishment. But unlike letting my gray hair grow out, for which people kindly tell me is lovely, I am not willing to give up enhancing my face artificially even if I am getting diminishing returns as time goes on. It is less about the opinion of others than it is about having to avoid mirrors.
No one criticizes someone who gets a sharp new haircut or orthodontic braces to improve their smile but women who wear cosmetics can be criticized for not embracing their true self and not accepting their flaws. I do not care whether my friends wear makeup or not; I see them for who they are. I know they feel the same way about me. But if a five-minute makeover makes me feel better about myself, I am going to spend the time to do it. At least until something more compelling calls to me.
But I am good at setting beauty boundaries. You will not see me on a run, without or without friends, with a trace of makeup. And my farm animal buddies could care less about whether my eyebrows are penciled in or not. The horses just want to be escorted from their stalls out to pasture, the goats want the small of their backs scratched, and the ducks honk at me indignantly until I feed them. They understand that beauty is on the inside – well, as long as I am at their bidding.