On Make-Up

This morning, a Monday morning, I was putting on my make-up to go to work when I made the mistake of thinking about what I was doing. This lapse of judgement caused several questions to arise from the depths of my consciousness, where I was keeping them safe from active contemplation.

1. Why was I putting stuff on my face at all?

I realised that I actually enjoy the process (except when I accidentally stick the mascara wand thingy into my eye). It allows me to be an artist for 5 or 10 minutes first thing in the morning.

2. Okay, but why do women in general, and some men, do this as a matter of course?

That was a harder one. It is a weird thing to do, to paint your face to go to work or to go shopping or to go out to dinner or to a bar. More “primitive” cultures paint their faces to go to war. Wait, even modern soldiers paint their faces to go to war.

Do we really think it makes us look more beautiful? [Oops, I just broke a Monkey rule about not answering a question with a question.] Not in my case, no. I am equally stunning without make-up. It does, however, make me feel more ‘polished’, like a scarf or any other accessory.

3. Why is it that people used to use make-up to make their skin whiter, and in more modern times it has become popular to make one’s skin look darker?

The collective schizophrenia of the human race.

4. Why do I torture myself with an eyelash curler?

Because I am ridiculous.

5. Why does Jono torture himself with an eyelash curler?

Because he secretly enjoys the pain.