Why Makeup Is Warpaint

“You look better without makeup on.”

Ugh. If I had a quarter for every time I heard that… Listen. I know it’s meant as a compliment, and I know that the person who says it (most often, male) means no harm by it. But it’s super obnoxious, and I’ll tell you why at the risk of sounding ungrateful, rude, or at worst, like a “bitch”.

The truth is that we don’t wear makeup for men. At least I don’t, and I’m almost totally sure that most women you ask can testify to the same thing. We wear makeup for a multitude of reasons which vary for each woman (and hey, a lot of men wear makeup too!), but primarily we wear it for ourselves. Take one look at the booming industry that is YouTube makeup tutorials and beauty DIYs and it’s pretty easy to see that people of all backgrounds, ethnicities, and orientations are finding empowerment and confidence through self-decoration— confidence that is completely independent from male approval.

• someone: girls wear makeup to impress boys
• me: you think I own 78 MAC lipsticks to impress a boy who can’t tell the difference between a Ruby Woo and Russian Red? NO.

–goalsmami.tumblr.com

By pointing out in a completely unsolicited “compliment” that I “look better without makeup,” you are implicitly assuming that the way I present myself physically is based on your opinion of my appearance. And that’s a pretty weighty thing to assume considering that modern society’s beauty standards on women are so unfair and usually cater to the preferences and desires of men. Case in point:

Source: Victoria’s Secret

Not to mention that I’m probably really liking the way my makeup is looking that day, and your comment on how you’d rather see me not wearing it is pretty rude in itself.

Now that I’ve got that little rant out of the way, I want to talk about the power of makeup and the real reason why I wear it. For me, painting my face and decorating my body can be powerful and soul-lifting, a precious outlet for my creative energy. I grew up with a turbulent medical history and a complicated relationship with my body after spending the majority of my childhood in and out of hospitals and treatment. Makeup is one of the ways I’ve been able to reconnect with my physical self, an incredibly precious aspect of who I am. Taking the time every morning to carefully swipe on a cat eye and form a beauty routine is a special thing that prepares me for the trials I might encounter that day. Not to mention the fact that red lipstick makes you feel pretty much invincible.

In the tradition of pretty much everything I do, I have got to quote Catherynne M. Valente on this. And if you have the chance, I completely recommend you get your hands on the darkly delicious fantasy novel “Deathless” if you want to devour more empowering passages like these…:

Lebedeva’s eyes shone. “Masha, listen to me. Cosmetics are an extension of the will. Why do you think all men paint themselves when they go to fight? When I paint my eyes to match my soup, it is not because I have nothing better to do than worry over trifles. It says, I belong here, and you will not deny me. When I streak my lips red as foxgloves, I say, Come here, male. I am your mate, and you will not deny me. When I pinch my cheeks and dust them with mother-of-pearl, I say, Death, keep off, I am your enemy, and you will not deny me. I say these things, and the world listens, Masha. Because my magic is as strong as an arm. I am never denied.”

–Catherynne M. Valente

Makeup can be magic. And notice I said can be— I have no doubt that the makeup industry plays a role in imposing unfair beauty standards on women and I also don’t doubt that a lot of people use it or view it in unhealthy ways. This I’ve seen for myself. I also think, though, that it’s all a matter of perception and discernment.

I’m going to say it again for the people in the back: makeup can be magic, and here’s proof: In World War Two, during the liberation of the Bergen Belsen concentration camps, men, women and children were found in horrible conditions– starving, unable to stand on their feet, all skin and bones, groaning in pain and surrounded by corpses. The Allied liberators had encountered a grim and horrifying sight. Interestingly, one of the first things they sent in as aid was a huge supply of… red lipstick? Yep. And here’s Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO’s account of what happened:

I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tattooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.

Source: Imperial War museum

Source: x

Humanity. Individuality. Self-expression. All in a single tube of lipstick.

Ancient Egyptian women recognized the power of self-decoration when they traced deep emerald shades under their eyes and blackened their lashes with kohl. Ancient Persian women painted their hair and faces with henna dyes. Mehndi, an ancient Indian and Pakistani tradition customarily performed on women, entails the painting of flowers and intricate patterns on the body to awaken the “inner sun”. 18th century Frenchwomen dabbed rosy rouge on their cheeks and lips and 20s flappers brought on a revolution in women’s rights and, probably not coincidentally, makeup use.

So go on. Swipe on a creamy red or pink, dust on a starry violet– feel as empowered and glittering as the glamazons before us did, centuries past. Just remember:

Blue is for cruel bargains; green is for daring what you oughtn’t; violet is for brute force. I will say to you: Coral coaxes; pink insists; red compels…

-Catherynne M. Valente