Did you know sharing your mascara with other people can spread bacteria that can potentially make you go blind? Neither did I as a privileged, straight, CIS, white guy until I decided to see what actually goes into buying and using makeup, especially with those who are changing shades and products to match the transitional fall season.
I began my journey in the makeup department at Sears, shamefully looking through the different products as I cursed my editors at The Aquinian for giving me this story in the first place. Fortunately, I was approached by Miranda Hatfield, an aesthetician in the makeup department who filled me in on what actually goes into purchasing makeup for the fall.
Hatfield said, “Every season has a different colour, so in the summertime you’ll see brighter shades that match with the scenery as opposed to the darker colours of fall.”
Hatfield gave me some insight on the different brands and colours, but it just wasn’t enough. I needed to get a real inside perspective on makeup, so I called my friend Brynn Haley, a fourth-year student at St. Thomas University and avid consumer of makeup products.
I asked Haley if she would do my makeup, to which I received an unsurprisingly enthusiastic yes. While she does not tend to change her makeup style seasonally, she still ran me through her process of applying makeup and which products she uses regularly.
Before we started, Haley said, “The first thing I do is take a look in the mirror and say ‘Whoa, I look pretty ugly right now. Better fix that.’”
She ran me through all the products we would be using and pointy objects that she would be jabbing into my face, while I tried to remember it all in order without giving myself an aneurysm.
Haley pulled out a blue bottle and said, “This is Urban Decay Pore Perfecting Complexion Primer Potion. I don’t think it really does anything, but I bought it anyway because of capitalism I guess.”
Great, not only would I have a bunch of gunk on my face that may or may not do anything, but I am also supporting a sexist regime that prays upon the insecurities of women.
She started scraping at my eyeballs with a sort of black, pointy spear-like object and asked me if it hurt. I said it didn’t, to which she replied, “Oh. Well it hurts whenever I have to use it.”
After she was done, I looked into the mirror to see what appeared to be the lovechild of comedian Eddie Izzard, and Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong.
My journey with makeup was certainly an enlightening one. My only experience with makeup beforehand was waiting for my friends to get ready for a night out while I searched for dank memes on Facebook. I now have a newfound respect for anyone who puts the time and effort into their makeup, and hope that it brings them more enjoyment than I had.
