I found myself at my all time favorite make up store- MAC- this morning, looking for a nice black but not really black eye liner that I could pop into my little makeup palette.  MAC is good about catering to environmental (read: annoying) minimalists like me who don't like our eye make-up to have any extra packaging.  You buy just the little round thing of color and it's packaged in a tiny cardboard slip.  No compacts or brushes or mirrors or extra stuff that drug store and some other high-end brands give you to make you think you are getting some sort of deal.
Let's back up.  See, my hair is falling out.  At an alarming rate.  Faster than it ever has.  I'm balding.  Have been for a couple years.  I have bald spots.  Ones that people are starting to notice.  My eyelashes are shedding too.  Gross, right?  As low-maints as I try to be, a girl has a little bit of vanity when all her mother loving hairs are falling out of her mother loving head and face.  Except around my upper lip.  Those hairs are doing just fine. 
Mascara makes my eye lashes prettier and more normal looking, but does a number on drying and tugging them out.  Yes, even the good mascaras.  Even ones made so they don't cause lashloss.  So I'm turning to my best friend Eye Makeup to make myself look and feel like a girl these days.

So, anyway, I walk into the store and the perky salesgirl with the overly made up face bounces over and asks me what I need.  She suggests pencils and creams and baked mineral cakes and and and a bunch of crap that is packaged with plastics and glues and glass and other stuff I don't want.  I try to explain to her that I was looking for something that will fit into my pallet because I don't like to buy that other stuff because of the way it's packaged.  She didn't really get it. 

You  know how when dogs sort of look at you and cock an ear and lick their lips and wiggle their butts to look cute so you don't notice they are sorta dense?  Right. 

She asked me about my other make up, and asked how and where I keep it if I have such a "problem" with packaging. 
"I don't have other make up", I said. 
Her jaw dropped. 
Dropped. 
"You mean... all you use is eyeshadow?  What about your concealer and foundation and blush and lip liners and lip sticks and highlighters and lowlighters and bases and and and? How do you get your skin to look like that?  Ohmigod!  It's like, glowing and translucent!  That's not a powder over a base with some foundation?  What sort of moisturizer do you use?  I bet it's expensive!".  She touched me.  She wiggled my cheek with her finger and checked for tension and residue.  She asked me how old I was, and I told her.  She thought I was like, way, like, younger and stuff.

Score.

"That's it.  I have a few eyeshadows and a bronzer and of course I own a lipstick but none of that other stuff.  Also, I don't use moisturizer, just a bit of olive oil if I'm dry."

I don't claim to be no beauty queen by any means, but I do try to take care of myself and my face so I don't look haggish before my time.  Being my age gives me a ten year advantage over someone her age.  I see what people my age look like now who didn't take care of themselves when we were people her age.  I see what people ten years older than me look like when they forget to take care of themselves in their thirties.  I don't want to look all weird and walmarty and gross.  I just don't.  Is that so wrong?

But it's not really about the way we look.  Or what we put on or not before we step out the door each day.  It's more than that.

It's about hiding our faces.  And the person behind those faces.  It's about hiding behind clothes and hair and make up and sunglasses and even words and careers and diplomas and kids and spouses and pets and houses and, well, you can pretty much hide behind anything.  It's easy to do.  So I try not to do it.  It's hard not to do it.  Sometimes I do it.

It's sad, really, that this poor girl feels that she needs so much to make her look presentable.  You could see her huge pores and acne bumps and dry flaky skin underneath the layers of crap all over her face.  She couldn't have been more than 23 or so, and it wasn't even noon and already she was fading fast.  Lipstick feathering and powder shedding and oil busting through the caps.  She works in a make up store so of course she knows how to apply carefully, but she didn't look much different than many other girls I see that are about her age.  Lots and lots of stuff piled on.  Trying to look older/prettier/cooler/sexier/whatever it is they are going for

Girls her age.  Wasn't it yesterday when I was her age?  Three or four thousand yesterdays ago.  Holy crap.

I guess had the benefit of coming of age when grunge was cool.  No make up (heavy black or blue eyeliner doesn't count) and loose clothes and comfortable shoes and ratty hair were the rage.  We never thought much of taking lots of time to look pretty or thin or sexy.  Then came college where everyone was a little dirty and hippychic.  Not too much grooming happened between classes, for sure.

Times are different now.
I'm different now.
Thankfully.

I wanted to tell that girl that half the problem with her skin was the "solutions" she was using.  Looking like a magazine queen every waking minute of the day takes a lot of work and a lot of potions and a lot of time and a lot of ack.  Just ack.  God knows what she washes her face with.  Or what she needs to deshellac at the end of the day.  I wonder if she is comfortable leaving the house without make up.  I wonder if she knows how young and gorgeous she is under that blush and liner and shadow and paste.  Probably not.  No one knows how young and gorgeous they are when they are young and gorgeous. 

I feel for people who wear a mask each day.  I have friends and family and loved ones that do that.
Call them up and ask them to meet you for a cup of coffee and they say "sure, just give me a couple hours so I can pull myself together".
It's coffee.  On Saturday morning.  No one you know is going to be there.
Sad.
Sad, sad, sad.

I feel for people who build their masks out of words like "everything's just great" and "these are the best days of my life" and "(insert sunshine here)" when things aren't great and these aren't the best days and the sun isn't shining so much.

Now, I'm sure that the sales girl was a perfectly normal and well adjusted young lady who just happens to have a heavy hand and a slight acne problem.  I'm sure of it.  She just got me thinking about some people I know who aren't, is all.