What I learnt growing up as a makeup fanatic to the daughter of a woman who has never worn makeup* 

 

For as long as I’ve known my mother (aka my entire life), I can’t quite remember a time where she has worn makeup. Which makes it quite ironic that I crawled out of her with a foundation in one hand and a Too Faced Chocolate Bar Palette in the other almost 20 years ago – must’ve been in an effort to cover up those milk spots. My father unfortunately did not support the makeup on babies trend. Sigh**.

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The first time I wore makeup I was 12 years old and in the Easter liturgy at school with my crush – the first and thankfully only time I found piercings on guys attractive. I gather I wanted to look nice enough for him to ask me out. I guess that cover girl compact my friend stole from her mother wasn’t quite my colour and didn’t quite give off the aura I was after, as I remained dateless (classic Lauren) with a promise to myself that I would kiss him on the last day of school (can confirm I did not kiss earring boy on the last day of primary school, 12yo me had no balls, I regretted it and wrote four pages in my “boy book” about it***).

Four years later, after thankfully realising thick black under eyeliner wasn’t for me, I like to think I came into my own with makeup and finally learnt how to cover up those horrid acne scars- special shout out to Marc Jacobs for that miraculous feat.

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On the other side of the house however, sits a woman (wine in hand, dog in lap), that’s taught me more about makeup than any YouTube videos or lessons at a Mac counter**** ever could.

 

She taught me – probably unknowingly – that makeup doesn’t necessarily give you confidence; it’s your perception of yourself that gives you confidence. That one person who walks into a room and all eyes are on them? That’s my mum. She has so much confidence, you could probably put a tap in her and serve it at the pub- which she would probably enjoy because pub = wine (but also not, because pub wine is expensive wine).

 

She taught me to be creative, and to love what I do. Even if that means she has to ignore all of my receipts in an effort to avoid knowing how much I spend on products.

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She taught me to love myself without makeup, but also how to embrace the passion for its artistry.

 

My mum taught me that I don’t have to wear makeup on a date, and that it’s okay to go bare-face to a ball – even if I don’t quite follow her lead on the later.

 

She taught me that glitter is always the right way to go, you can always use more bronzer and that Isis have the emotional maturity of two year olds fighting over whose imaginary best friend is better.

 

Thank you for embracing my passion, for teaching me to love myself, and for checking if my eyeshadow was even.

 

Bare face or full glam, let’s learn to love and embrace who we are, with and without makeup.

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*i lie. Apparently in her misguided youth she once wore mascara and lipstick #glam

** let’s not lie, I was a hideous baby, but alas unfortunately no makeup was used on this ugly mug.

***Coming to you in my autobiography.

****I assume this was a conspiracy between my parents to get me to leave the eyeliner alone.

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