(Accidentally) going without make-up….

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At the weekend, a friend and I got a cheap night in a spa. Lovely! Twas only about twenty minutes into the journey, that I realised my make-up bag was sitting, oblivious, on the window ledge which is its normal home….

Disaster! Too late to turn back, without adding another forty minutes onto the journey, and anyway, I wasn’t driving. Friend and I have a very civilised arrangement. She drives, and I bring the booze…. Anyhoo, I digress. I have to say, that this is not the first time this had happened. I have nearly done it many times, as I do not keep said make-up bag in my handbag. This is less to do with my organisational skills than the not small make-up bag, and the amount of ‘essential’ stuff I carry around in my bag.

The last time it actually happened, I was seventeen, and going to a wedding, and unable to readily access a shop to get make-up, so I went without. Me, with my low self-esteem, with a boyfriend, who didn’t think I was pretty. I know this, because he told me (a whole other blog post). At the wedding, the bride, who was the sister of Tactless Boyfriend, insisted I sat on the Other Side of the church, not on the Family Side. A slight that I vaguely recognised, but would have been much more sneeped had I been on Mumsnet in those years! Anyhoo, it was a bit traumatic, but mainly because I needed all the confidence I could get, and my Mask was not available to me.

Roll on over thirty years…. I was a bit irritated. Mainly because I have a List of things I need to do at the last minute, and this includes putting my make-up bag into my case, and I had Failed. I know I shouldn’t need a list, but I am slightly dyslexic and find it easier to work in this way.

So. It was fine. Maybe not for people who live on the other side of my face, and have to look at me, but for me, it was fine. And curiously liberating. And yes, I KNOW that’s not an original thought, but I discovered it, for me personally, accidentally, rather than making a deliberate choice to do it as an experiment.

I don’t wear that much make-up normally, partly through time, and cba issues. On a night out, I will make more effort. I don’t intend to do it regularly, out in public, but it was freeing to know I could.

I wish I could go back and tell my seventeen year old self that it was ok. That the bride was a Bridezilla and I should have stood up to her earlier (this was the latest in a long line of unecessary slights). Oh, and that I was going out with a bit of an Idiot, and I deserved better.

The last point would take until my fifties to get into my head, but better late than never.

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