I indulged in the guilty pleasure of a free make over from one of the Revlon ladies while aimlessly wandering around Myer the other week. To excuse myself from any embarrassment and shame that my bare face would bring to me, I explained myself to the make up artist as the novice I am when it comes to blush, lip liner and all things cosmetic. It was like a natural reflex, shedding light upon the insecurities I didn’t even know I possessed. She assured me that she would go through everything she did to me, step by step. I felt like such a teenage girl but it was an oddly warm and endearing experience from which I emerged a beautiful butterfly, ready to spread my wings and conquer the world… Not quite, but I did discover the difference liquid eye liner, primer and foundation actually does make and the confidence it inspires in my knowing that I could now pass as a one of the “every other girls”. Until then, I felt make up was the standard for a world I wasn’t yet a part of  (the same world where every 20-something year old female already knows how to walk comfortably in heels for hours at a time).

Sadly, I could only justify purchasing the eye liner and a set of eye shadows (that I later returned for a refund..!) – partly because I need to be frugal (*cough* atightarse) with what little money I have and partly because I am terrified of becoming one of those girls who cannot leave the house without putting their faces on.  As enticing as knowing I could bring myself up a few notches with a few lotions and powders is, it’s not a mask I am prepared to commit myself to putting on every time I leave the house. I’ve taken to wearing the eye liner out more often than I would usually be bothered to but am realising that it is slowly becoming part of “what I look like”. I would rather be one of the “wow, she looks absolutely banging, tonight” girls on special occasions than one of the girls who lose three points when they don’t put make up on. Going from an 8 to a 5 is quite the fall from grace…

I have also finally realised how women can be so enthused about fashion. I have to admit that until recently, I considered fashion with less regard than it garners from most other women. Like fine wine and cheeses, I know now that it has its connoisseurs. I have not been one of those, but rather one of the teenagers opting for the cask wine over a glass of vintage. Cheap and nasty, as long as it got me there. I would love to buy the best but alas, my wallet is not large enough to settle the raging war between my car, mountain biking, stomach and fashion. The battles, unfortunately, continue.