In defence of your makeup routine

In defence of your makeup routine

Painting women as blind narcissists instead of self-aware pragmatists is just plain dumb. From the simple desire to look their best to playing the lifelong game all women are signed up to from birth, makeup is a tool. Women wear makeup for themselves.

Cultures around the world define beauty differently—what is physically appealing in one local is rooted in social history, not evolution. Consider thinness, hardly a universal feature of attractiveness. Biologically, curvier women are deemed most attractive, purely for the animal-driven desire for a mate with the ability to carry a child to term. Yet it’s thin we are told to be; indicating clearly we are driven by social convention, rather than evolutionary biology.

Despite cultural variations, a few physical features can be considered universal markers of beauty, all linked to reproductive fitness—is it any wonder youthfulness is the ultimate beauty standard? Human preferences have certainly evolved to favour bright eyes, clear skin, full lips and shiny hair, tenets of youth and thus peak fertility. Facial symmetry is also generally preferred, with foundation used to even skin tone and promote a stronger impression of health and symmetry. In one study, foundation was concluded to be the product making the most difference in female attractiveness, according to the men surveyed. On the other hand, women noted eye makeup as the ultimate product enhancing other women’s attractiveness, lending credence to the theory exaggerated youthfulness has greater appeal. Blush is a staple thanks to its effects in mimicking vascularisation, providing a subtle sign of arousal; when women are most sexually viable (during ovulation) they blush more easily.

But it’s not all about sex appeal.

Frustratingly, societies tend to treat attractive people more favourably in every area of life from dating, to jobs, and even to criminal trials, according to the Association for Psychological Science. Research shows women who wear makeup to work have higher earnings and promotion potential; men tend to determine a woman’s attractiveness by her use of makeup; and women tend to judge other women’s personalities by their makeup—they bond faster with women who wear makeup similar to them and perceive heavy looks as a sign of promiscuity. This is echoed by straight men: the more makeup a woman wears, the easier she is perceived to be.

Photo by Jhoe Alecrim on Unsplash

Makeup is a powerful tool in any arsenal and women (and men) have experimented with cosmetics for at least 7,000 years. Ancient Egyptians rimmed their eyes with soot, Elizabethans covered their faces with lead-based paint, and the earliest Homo sapiens used red ochre in cosmetic body art. There’s nothing wrong with wearing makeup; the argument it stems from caving to patriarchy is outmoded. Defying makeup shaming is certainly an admirable pursuit but women are far more likely to experience systematic persecution for not wearing any than a girl with heavy contouring.

Wear makeup if you want to, but own it. The problem arises from the multibillion dollar industry relying on insecurity. The proliferation of makeup throughout society hammers in the notion that we are not enough as we are. Years of exposure to images of perfection in the media—all in the name of selling products—have shaped our idea of beauty and any natural deviation is something to conceal. The case that the beauty industry exists to control a generation of women in the process of emancipation is a powerful and persuasive one. The fact there’s a bare minimum a woman should be doing—'you only need these five products to achieve this lazy day makeup look’—is normalised by the culture surrounding makeup. Consider why a woman would feel disempowered by her appearance in the first place. Consider why the thought of leaving the house without even those five products is so uncomfortable. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel pretty; but let’s remember to examine why women are socialised to believe they aren’t pretty unless they do wear makeup.

The other problem is the homogenisation of the beauty standard: no wonder we feel the need to make ourselves up to fit in. But makeup in the West caters to a demand to meet generally Eurocentric beauty standards; remember the impact Rihanna’s Fenty Beauty range made with its promise of inclusion and colours for all skin tones?

And yet makeup can also be the answer here. Makeup artists destroy beauty conventions all the time; when hasn’t a look on the catwalk caught your attention with bold lines, daring colours and impossible geometry? Their looks start conversations about race and gender fluidity; their looks inspire and encourage the audience to find their own look. Makeup can be incredibly personal and how can boosting your confidence be a bad thing?

Women don’t buy makeup because they are blind narcissists, flocking to the cosmetics counters in a desperate attempt to appeal to a man—be that on a date, at work, or during a criminal trial. Women buy makeup to play the game: they want to feel good, look good, do good. Women are self-aware pragmatists—they know the value and the power in a flick of eyeliner, a hint of blush and a coat of lipstick.

Wearing makeup is not a feminist statement; but neither is not wearing makeup. It is your right to wear it; it is your right to not wear it. There is power in wearing makeup; there is power in not wearing makeup. As with all things: do what you want.