“And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to Conquer” ~ Han’s Gruber, Die Hard (1988)
That’s the way I feel when I look at my makeup collection. I went to Ulta today. I was there for easily an hour. I bought nothing. I picked up a few things and walked around the store with them for a while. There were some great sales, as always, but even I had to admit that I didn’t need any of it. In the end, I bought nothing. I already have everything a woman’s could possibly need from an Ulta. Now what do I do?
I realize that I don’t want to wear makeup. I just want to have it. I want to buy it, like a collector and organize it and then just sit back and look at it and never ever use it. Im so stupid. It gave me such a high to look online or in the sales ad and see something I wanted on sale. It was a comfort almost to have something in my mind that i was going to go and buy. It made me so exited and better still, it distracted me.
I just couldn’t stop thinking about what I was going to get instead of thinking of my problems. Then I would go to the store and actually get that thing. Ahh, satiated.
For the briefest of moments, I was happy.
Then once I have the things and I don’t want to use them. I don’t want to ruin them.The fun was is finding the great deal, retrieving the bright, shiny precious and making it mine.
It’s a wonder I didn’t get into makeup before. It’s so fun. It’s so me. It checks all the same boxes as getting fancy school supplies which used to be so fun for me when I was in elementary and middle school before life got hard and superfluous things were not in the budget or even on my radar. I’m an adult now. I can be my own parent, show myself love. The dark days are over.
The early, cushy part of my childhood taught me to associate presents with love. My grandma showed me that she loved me buy getting things for me. It may not be healthy or accurate but being able to get myself frivolous things make me feel loved. Even if it’s just me loving myself. (Please no one tell my husband how much he loves me.) Only now the school supplies are makeup.
Sometimes I think my friends think I’m having a midlife crisis. I guess I could be. I think they think that I am trying to cover my face cause I hate myself and that I want to be blonde because I’m trying to be a different person. I’m not saying they are wrong. I’m sure at least part of my interest in makeup comes from wishing that parts of me were better than they are but ultimately I think it’s just me, finally being happy.
I think the person I am now more closely reflects the person I was as a child. It’s more who I am. I feel like myself again. I honestly haven’t for years and years. I didn’t even realize how much I wasn’t myself until I started to feel like myself again. I feel like someone turned the light on inside of me.
In fact, even though I didn’t really care about makeup in high school, I’m remembering now that I was obsessed with it as a child. My aunt, who is only 16 years older than me, still lived at home when I was growing up at my grandmas house and she had a vanity with a light-up mirror. It was just stacked with all sorts of makeup (and half empty water glasses, or were they half full?). I wanted in there so badly. She actually put locks on the door to keep me out.
Once I got into her makeup. I remember dark blue eyeshadow was used. The rest is a blur. She was so mad when she found out what I had done. She yelled at me and I cried and my grandma took me out and bought me a little makeup kit of my own. This made my aunt even more furious and rightly so. I was being rewarded for ruining her things. If anything grandma should have bought her new makeup to replace what I messed up and disciplined me or something. It didn’t work that way though, which is a big reason why I don’t understand consequence. So it goes.
And that’s another story about why I’m a little bitch and everyone hates me. I’ve got a million of them, trust me.
Back to present day: Nothing is more satisfying than the first time you use a new makeup or skincare product. It’s so pristine looking. So untouched and perfect. You don’t want to ruin it but you just can’t help yourself.
I have some makeup still I the box that I bought months ago. I will take it out, open it, look at how pretty it is, have a double orgasum and then put it back in the box. I love it so much, it would break my heart to use it. I know that defeats the purpose but what can I say? I’m a crazy person.
Even once I take things out of the box, I will be reluctant to throw the box away. It’s usually pretty too. Plus, you never know, I might want to put the product back in the box again, just out of weirdness. The products I do finally get up the nerve to use, I am so delicate with. You would think I was doing brain surgery or playing Jenga or something.
Also. I was putting eye moisturizer on and looking in the mirror when I thought about how when I die none of this will have mattered.