Friday, November 20, 2009

Beauty School Drop Out

So I'm standing in my bathroom affixing certain cosmetics to my face which, if you knew me at all, isn't really all that much (I'm talking a little concealer, eyeliner and swipe of lipgloss and you're done kind of make-up application), and my daughter, who loves to sit on the toilet and watch my every, most fascinating I'm sure of it move, says to me, "Mama what is that stuff you're putting on your face?"

I ponder.

I contemplate.

I do a quick inventory of what is left of my brain on this early Friday morning, weighing the pros and cons of using certain language regarding cosmetics in front of my daughter because yes, I really don't want her to ever think her skin needs "covering up." And I, completely and utterly relenting to what is a monumental cop out, say, "It's Cover Girl." Because taking the marketing, brand-name road is always better than taking the I'm not good enough and my skin sucks road in front of impressionable 6 year old girls, no?

I thought so.

"What's Cover Girl for?"

Oh she is a crafty one, that girl.

"Oh, you know," I say, rubbing the Noxema scented, full of chemicals, and I mean really, I can't believe I still use this stuff concealer on my face, "It evens out my skin tone." (Especially following a night of imbibing in cocktails, but I leave that part out)

"What's skin tone?"

You sly fox!

"Oh, you know," here I go again, I think, "It just makes my skin look normal."

Oh perfect! That is a wonderful thing to say to her. What the heck is wrong with me - I'm going to forever screw up her idea of self worth, her self esteem, her body image and view of beauty. Forever. I've failed. I'm done. It's over. Gloria Steinam will hang me. Dr. Ruth will burn me at the stake...

Oh wait, that's another topic entirely. Nevermind.

I conclude my make up application session, dry my hair the rest of the way, and urge her to "shake a leg" because if we dilly dally anymore into this great morning, we're going to miss the final bell at her school. And crime doesn't pay - you should never be late for kindergarten.

She hops off the toilet, takes one more look at me and bounds out the door. But not before saying the following:

"That's so weird."

Gosh...I just love her.


Liz said...

What a great response!

Half Assed Kitchen said...

It IS weird. I use a lot more makeup than you and I struggle to explain this to my four year old daughter. She's a girly girl, though, so I think she's destined to follow in my cosmetically-inclined footsteps.

SugarBritches said...

I think you're safe for now!

Anonymous said...

That's so wierd....I have been make-upless in public no less than three times this week and it felt damn good! Commented on the Mother of Style's blog that perhaps REAL should be the next black...maybe that should include make-up...

Kyla said...


Anonymous said...

dilly dally? lol

I have always envied your beautiful skin, eyelashes that are naturally dark, eyebrows that don't need coloring...must be why I married that dark-haired brown-eyd man.. so we could have

you beautiful you.


Heather said...

hopefully no one gives your daughter play make up-because then not only do you have to talk about make up-you have to fight off those clown days when they try to put it on and you have to tell them that they need to take some (cough a lot cough) off-all while making them feel good about themselves and make up

Alexis AKA MOM said...

LOL see now I have the boys that open up the makeup put it on and say look we're trying to be like mommy when she leaves the house. Because even then why the heck would I use it ... what it's not halloween every morning I get up? It's my scary mommy face and I'm sticking with it ... ;)

It was so nice to meet you at the bloggy event!

Kendra said...

My kids tell me I look funny when I put make-up on. The same thing the say when I wear panyhose or heels. Mine is a laid-back life, I guess. But someday I'm going to have to have a real talk with my daughter about cosmetics--when and how and why to wear them--and I don't relish that at all. Is nothing simple?