At seventeen she made up to impress, half of her face at a time; one side flat porcelain, the eye enlarged with kohl and mascara, the cheek blushed, half the lip glossily plump; the other side, uneven, natural and pale. For a few seconds her face displayed equally what she wanted to portray and what she hid.
Now nothing can smooth the shadows and lines but she doesn’t care, because they represent who she has become. She will leave the room with a little make-up, or maybe none. Her friends are waiting and they look only at her heart.
Copyright 2016 by Paula Harmon. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission
I like this very much. I found that the older I got, the less and less make up I wore when I went out. I’ve gotten so accustomed to not wearing any make up, that it feels odd when I do instead of the other way around.
I like the fact that it doesn’t matter any more and I can do it if I feel like it but not worry if I don’t. As you say, now, if I put on too much, it doesn’t feel like ME anymore.
Simple and nice…
thank you.
I love the simplistic beauty.
Thank you