Confessions of a Cosmoholic

Okay...so I'm not a Cosmopolitan magazine-aholic as you might assume by the title, but Cosmeholic looked just downright stupid. Yes, that's right. I am a cosmetics junkie. I have issues.

It started oh so innocently when I was a young, makeup-challenged, princess wannabe growing up in Frogtown. (That's a story for another time.) I remember watching my mother get all glammed up to go out for a night out the town with my Dad. Mom was always beautiful, with her porcelain skin, soft eyes and delicate features. Of course, the makeup look in the 70's was hippie chic, but I remember her wearing simple eyeliner, a sweep of mascara, a little blush and lipstick. I can't even recall what shade of lipstick it was, but that didn't matter. It was MAKEUP. Magic in a tube with the power to transform the everyday housewife into the fabulous "going out lady". I wanted that lipstick with all my 5 year old heart so I could be a pretty lady too.

Fast forward to one afternoon with a little too much boredom going on. Mom was in the garden, or cleaning, or doing something that Mom's do that keep them busy and unable to watch their sneaky little kidlings. Mini-princess Stacie tippy toed into Mom's room, spied the magical lipstick on the vanity, applied a huge swatch of color across her lips, and tucked the tube securely in the front of her pants to secret away to the magical palace. (Stacie's plaid 70's pants didn't have pockets) Half way across the moat (living room), and in front of the evil dragon (Dad), the unthinkable happened. The lipstick slipped through the waistband of the plaid 70's pants, slithered down my leg, and rolled out across the living room floor. Oddly, I don't remember much about being 5, but I remember what followed with perfect clarity. There were dust motes dancing in the light coming through the front door. Those evil dust motes drew the sunbeam down to beautifully light up the pilfered lipstick tube. I stopped dead. The dragon looked at me and growled, "Did you take your Mother's lipstick?" Hmmmmm......how to best get out of THIS one? "Nuh uh!....it must have been someone else. I didn't take Mom's lipstick." I was a horrible liar at the age of 5 and I remember getting quite the spanking that afternoon for not only swiping Mom's lipstick, but also for lying to the dragon...er...Dad. I was hooked though. I should clarify. Hooked on the LIPSTICK, not on a life of crime.

It's tough to grow up with a plain face in a world of natural beauties. Late elementary school to junior high was a horrible time to be surrounded with natural beauties. Some people look plain FABULOUS without makeup. My younger sister is one of those lucky people. As a child, she had sun-kissed, blonde hair. Mine was mousy brown. She had full lips that I used to make fun of, and now totally envy. My lips were thinner than a saltine cracker. She had lush eyelashes that fluttered like little wisps of dandelion fluff. Mine were practically invisible pieces of stubble. Oh, how I envied people like my sister. They could go places without makeup and still look gorgeous. When I went without makeup, people asked if I was sick. As soon as Mom gave me permission in 6th grade to start wearing some makeup, I was all over it. Lip gloss was my first addiction. Bonne Bell lipsmackers in the industrial sized tube. That thing was fatter than a roll of quarters, and it was packed full of succulent, strawberry-flavored lip lusciousness. Not only did it give my lips a hint of rosy color, it also worked great as an afternoon snack. (Yeah, like YOU never tried a little nibble of YOUR Bonne Bell lip smacker to see if it tasted as great as it smelled....)

Junior high school gave way to more makeup privileges. I didn't have any money, but that didn't stop me. I begged and pleaded with any grown-up that would listen about how I neeeeeeded makeup for my birthday/Christmas/Halloween/grocery shopping excursion on my 10-speed bike.... My aunt Angie took pity on me on more than one occasion. Soon I had amassed a small stack of eye shadows, lip glosses, blush...and even a eye liner and tube of mascara! All hell broke loose by 8th grade. I was no longer content to have a natural look. COME ON! This was the 80'S!!! Excess was the best! I developed, horror of horrors, raging acne. (I battle it to this day at 38...er....28) Enter Cover Girl Clean Foundation. Oh, that stuff smelled horrible, but it covered up the herd of zits that had parked themselves on my face. There was no such thing as being "color matched" at Pamida, so I got whatever I wanted my skin tone to be. Never mind that my too dark foundation made my face look like old Michael Jackson (the Thriller stage) and my neck look as pale as new Michael Jackson (the 2000's Michael).

Senior high was my full-out, shock the masses makeup. Oh, I had it goin' ON! Frosted cupcake pink lipstick with more shimmer than Liberace's outfits, bright pink Cover Girl Cheekers blush streaked straight up to my Sun-Inned hairline, babydoll pink powder eyeshadow.....and ELECTRIC BLUE eyeliner AND mascara. I was hot. Problem was, no one else knew it. They didn't see my artistic expression as being beautiful, but I didn't know THAT. (Why does no one tell you that you looked like a clown until your 10 year class reunion?) I remember the ONE year I was in Track (as a miserable failure that probably made my Dad want to cry) I was strutting my stuff in my full-out electric blue and princess pink glory. I remember some guys from another track team watching me as I went by. They were pretty cute. :D Then I heard them yell: "Holy $%@&! Did you see how BLUE her EYELASHES were? They were, like, NEON! Holy smurfoley!" (Yes, even teenage boys in the 80's spoke Valley Girl) Raucous laughter ensued, my heart was broken, and I vowed to learn how to use makeup and become beautiful instead of a weird Dee Snyder knockoff. While my classmates went on dates, or were involved in athletics or had fabulous fun times in huge groups, I pored through Glamour and Seventeen magazines learning how to blend, contour and sculpt. I didn't have much of a life, but I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being laughed at. Remember, it doesn't feel good to never have been a "natural" beauty and to have to work at looking good all the time. So, work and learn, I did. It didn't do much for my social life, but I became pretty darn good at looking better.

A lot has changed since high school. I don't wear ANYTHING electric blue or icy pink. I have banned Cover Girl foundations from my spackle arsenal and I most certainly try to avoid dollar store makeup. A lot also hasn't changed. I still battle hyper oily skin that only responds to prescription retinoids. I still have small eyes with sparse lashes and even more invisible eyebrows. (Mom "affectionately" referred to my eyes as pissholes in a snowbank when we'd joke around about my "natural" beauty.) My lips are still thin as a saltine and my skin isn't as perky as it used to be. However, my tastes have matured. No longer satisfied with the Cover Girl and Maybelline types of makeup lines, I've discovered Clinique, Urban Decay, L'oreal/Lancome, Avon's mark line and my latest obsession....MAC! Oh, the things I can do with quality makeup! I've never been one for the "natural" look. I figure if I'm going to have fun with makeup, I'm going to HAVE FUN with makeup! I trend toward the smokey eye look....smoldering browns that make the blue of my eyes pop and give them depth. Lengthening mascaras that add length and definition to the short bristles I call lashes. Shimmering glosses that add the appearance of fullness to my scant lips. Micro-finish powers that temporarily mask the oil slick that repeatedly appears on my face throughout the day.

Ahhhhhhhh, yes. It's been a love/hate relationship for nearly 30 years. (Have I been wearing makeup THAT LONG?!!) I may not have a natural look, but I do have a fairly decent look. I know I must be doing something right when I have high school girls ask me how to recreate my eye makeup look or what products I use and where they can buy them. It feels good. It's a far cry from the cruel reactions I got from people in high school. Yes, makeup can transform your life when you're a very plain, mousy girl looking for a bit of confidence. Anyone can be a princess. It's up to the girl to make the princess emerge through the power of makeup.

Bring on the spackle!