thank you mOm

You know, my mOm raised me to not really give a shit about cosmetics.  She quit wearing her one concession to patriarchal culture, lipstick, the instant she retired.  Over the course of my life I’ve probably saved fifty grand not buying them. I have powder, probably time-expired, and one jar of nail polish, in my bathroom.  I think Katie cleaned out anything else I had lying around.  I do concede that my face looks better if I prevent my eyebrows from meeting in the middle, and I do pluck the darker hairs off my chin and chest because even though I’ll never get mistaken for a man I would prefer to present as a woman.

I don’t care who consumes cosmetics, but I am upset and disgusted by people smearing fishscales and metal oxides on their faces without understanding the long term health consequences.  Makeup, unless it’s part of what you do for a living (rock star, sex trade worker, actor, television personality, model, emo kid) is a waste of money.  It doesn’t get wonderful just because a group of men decide to spend money on it.