27 February 2010

Old often means better (+PSA)

For instance, when oiling your hardwood floors, it is *much* better (and faster, actually) to just get down on your hands and knees and do it yourself by hand, rather than trying to use fancy "time and energy saving" products and machines. And mineral oil is still best. If you could change a woman's hair from grey to brilliant shining blonde with natural streaks just by rubbing some mineral oil in there, the cosmetics industry would go bust.

Speaking of which, I have another Public Service Announcement.

Women, most of you who wear cosmetics DO NOT NEED THEM. Don't waste your money. If there was ever  a bigger absolute swindle for non-essential products, I can't think of one. Well, maybe the sale of razors to the gentlemen. (NB - It is not only women who wear makeup, and too much makeup at that. Let's be fair.)

Let's face it; many of you learned how to wear makeup from television and magazines, where the only way you can tell a woman has a nose is because the nostrils themselves are visible. Barely. I know some of you watched daytime television programmes that focussed on how to match your...um...cheeks crap to your eye crap, and how to blend all of it with some ridiculously expensive brush or lotion or interpretive dance.

Eyes, my friends, should not look like the hat in Matisse's Woman With a Hat. If you *must* wear makeup (which, I reiterate, most of you do not need), it should look as though you are not wearing any. Check out Christy Turlington here, wearing NOTHING AT ALL. Her makeup (and I guarantee you, she's probably wearing more than you do) looks nekkit too. Now, you probably don't want to have to spend thousands of dollars to pay some flappy person to apply your makeup every day.  I know I have better things I'd like to spend thousands of dollars on (do you hear me, Johnny Depp!!??).

Want to know something else? Wearing makeup wrecks your skin. The more you wear it, the more you "need it" (which, again, is Bee Ess). I proved this to myself; I put some top-end, really-bloody-expensive cosmetics on one hand, and I put nothing on the other hand (technically, on the back of my hand). Yes, I moisturised both beforehand (heh). In less than an hour, my makeup hand was full of wrinkles and looked like the hand of someone twice my age. Bleah.

And, AND! Here's the most important bit: It's really sad that you're afraid to look your age. Eighteen-year-old girls look like eighteen-year-old girls because...wait for it... THEY ARE EIGHTEEN. Forty-year-old women look like forty-year-old women because they're FORTY! They're beautiful FORTY YEAR OLD WOMEN. Women who, at twenty, or thirty, or sixty (I'm looking at you, Cher. Oh! And you, Madonna!) try to look like they're 18 are lying to themselves, they're lying to you, and they're kind of making a mockery out of what it means to be a human. Not just a woman, but a human.

Look at the reason *why* you wear cosmetics. Are you trying to look older? Younger? Are you a performer? A circus freak? Think of all the money you could save if you just...stopped. You're already beautiful (that word, remember, means 'full of beauty'). Go ahead, when you're stepping out and you want to do that smoky thing with your eyeliner, that's cool. But a daily regimen? You're doing it wrong.

For two weeks in grade 9, and then again for three days in grade 10, I attempted to wear makeup. It did not end well. In fact, I think the pink frosted lip gloss from grade 9 was still in the dresser drawer last time I was at my mum's house (I threw it out). My mother always told me: "you're lucky; you don't NEED makeup."

And that confused me, because neither did she.
Neither does my aunt, who is one of the coolest, smartest, most beautiful women I know. But she will not...WILL NOT leave the house (not even to get the paper) without it. Never has.
Another woman I know won't even leave the bedroom without 'putting on her face'. Do you know how frightening that EXPRESSION is, never mind the practice? Think about it for a while. Putting on your face.


It gives me THE SHIVERS. The idea that somewhere, in some girls' dormitory somewhere, there is a special closet with row upon row of faces hanging on little hooks, and the girls all sleeping motionlessly, their beds lining a long, narrow room, the only light coming from tiny, dingy windows high up int he walls. And where there faces ought to be are pulsating, bloody landscapes, eyes darting this way and that, deep in REM sleep, but lidless, mouth muscles pulled back over teeth. The only sound a rhythmic breathing as the girls all exhale in unison, and a subtle drip, drip, dripping as blood drops on the floor beneath every girl's head.

That's why you shouldn't wear makeup.

Labels: , ,

2010 Canadian Weblog Awards Nominee
Bookmark and Share
posted by cenobyte at 2 Comments Links to this post

24 February 2010

Style Advice

Ladies, let's sit and have a little chat, shall we?

Some of you need an intervention. Some of you needed an intervention when you were still under the age of ten. I'm sure some of you won't pay attention to this intervention, but really, trust me: it's for your own good, and for the good of the whole world.

Bodies come in many shapes and sizes. As long as you are *healthy*, it doesn't really matter what shape and/or size your body is. Some of us are flat-chested, some of us are well-endowed; some of us have great, sensuous round hips, and some of us are far more streamlined. Some of us have bingo flaps on the backs of our arms which can be deployed in a strong headwind to increase lift. The point is, if you don't look like "that" or like "this", it's no big deal. But there is something that *is* a big deal.

This thing is shape-appropriate attire.

I have said before that spandex is a privilege and not a right. This could be amended to 'spandex in public is a privilege and not a right'. I do not wear spandex, unless it is as reinforcing material in my bathing suit or brassiere. I *did* wear spandex, when I was sixteen. I wore spandex bicycling shorts because I used to do an awful lot of bicycling. I don't believe that I could fit those shorts on my bingo flaps now, if I still had the shorts, which I do not. BECAUSE I HAVE NOT BEEN SIXTEEN FOR TWENTY YEARS.

Tube tops.

Baby, tube tops are awfully cute on little girls. Some older girls and young women can get away with tube tops as well. When we develop our luscious curves we enter in a time in which extreme caution must be exercised. Tube tops are dangerous, dangerous things. Here are some guidelines for you:

1) If you do not pass the pencil test*, you probably should not wear anything without straps. Unless all you're doing is lying down, or reclining on a chaise whilst your cabana boy feeds you peeled grapes.

2) If the tube you are preparing to don is too small for your thigh, it is too small for your torso.

3) Tube tops look bloody stupid when worn over a tee-shirt. This applies to women and girls of all ages.

4) Flocked tube tops do not make you look slimmer. They. Just. Don't.

5) A tube top is *not* the same as a strapless gown. DO YOU HEAR ME, TEENAGERS!?? THAT IS A **SHIRT**, NOT A DRESS.

6) Never, ever wear a tube top to church. ESPECIALLY if you're the priest.

7) Tube tops are meant to be handled gently, with grace and a delicate touch. It is a Bad Idea to wear a tube top to participate in football, soccer, baseball, basketball, rugby, marathons, jump-rope, hopskotch, or curling. They are appropriate for swimming, beach volleyball, darts, and ice dance.

8) If you are over the age of 35, you might want to ask yourself, before donning a tube sock top: what am I trying to accomplish, here? Am I wearing the tube top, or is the tube top wearing me?

9) If you are over the age of 70, wear whatever the hell you please.

The next lesson will be: Fake Nails, or What Were You Thinking?

--
*The pencil test: this is how the school nurse/guidance councilor/phys ed teacher decides it's time for a brassiere - slip a pencil beneath your breast. Let go of the pencil. If it drops out relatively quickly, you don't need a lot of support. For reference, the pencil I slipped under my breast in grade six is still there. I have named it Millicent.

Labels: , ,

2010 Canadian Weblog Awards Nominee
Bookmark and Share
posted by cenobyte at 2 Comments Links to this post