Make-up and Aging

OK, I am one of those people that no matter how upset, traumatised, broke, depressed, despondent, sick or otherwise I could get, I will always be wearing makeup.

I seriously am not joking. I went through a very serious trauma in fact (a 10 on the Richter scale) a while back. When my daughter knocked on the door she expected to see me in my pjs, hair a mess, a bright red blotchy tear stained face and possibly carrying a large knife in my hand. I opened the door clutching the knife as expected (I am exaggerating, do not be alarmed) but I was also wearing a face full of war paint. She was shocked and not because of the menacing instrument I was wielding.

Yes, I could be living in a trailer park but still wearing Chanel. And yes, I expect to leave this earth with the spac filler firmly in place. I mean the only downside of wearing makeup in a crisis is that its almost impossible to have a good cry while wearing ten coats of mascara.....but I manage.

Don't get me wrong I am not as obsessed as some. Once I did a girl's wedding makeup and she told me her future husband had never seen her without makeup. This girl was extremely beautiful as well. I draw the line at going to bed all tarted up unless its a late night and you happen to roll into bed fully clothed because you literally cannot stand up. Sometimes the calibre of your date also requires you to look your absolute best 24/7 (and I have only ever made that exception for George,.....you know Clooney) but its exceptionally hard work to keep it up. See, I am just delusional but not obesessed.

I just love makeup, thats all. I was addicted to it from the very moment my parents gave me a purple Rimmel eyeshadow set for my 13th birthday. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

There have been some diasasters over the years (the purple lipstick and orange eyeshadow are two such moments in time) but I usually keep it simple. I prefer to be more creative on others. I have also reached that age where I worry that I could be overdoing it and just not realise. So, I have told my daughter that she MUST NOT spare my feelings and, once the time comes, she must tell me when to cut my hair and when to downplay the rouge and mascara.

I am haunted by this image you see. I saw an elderly woman (truth was she was only probably in her late 50s) in Sorrento, Italy who obviously didn't know where to draw the line.....literally. She had bleached blonde hair teased high on her head with a large black velvet bow perched precariously on top. She was wearing a long leapord printed coat, black suede boots, long painted red nails, thick false eyelashes, masses of black eyeliner, bright balls of blush on her cheeks and cherry red lipstick. The fact she was carrying a miniature dog in her arms, wearing a matching bow, just added to the eccentric picture. It was all shades of wrong. I smiled to myself thinking, how sad - she obviously doesn't really see what she looks like in the mirror, poor thing.

However, my self rightgeous mirth was cut short a few seconds later when my friend touched me on the arm all excitedly and said, look at her, you have to take a look, that is so going to be you in a few years time. I laughed, sort of....what a scary thought and what a thing to say.

I mean do you think we lose judgement about what we really look like? Just today I was looking at a picture of some cousins of mine who are all the same age as me. But they all looked so old. Surely, I haven't aged that badly....or have I?

Aging sucks and I am not afraid to come out and say it. If only we knew in our twenties what we know when we hit 40. Wouldn't life be something!

I just hope I have the common sense to know when enough is enough...... or someone who loves me has the guts to firmly tell me to step away from the eyeliner ...... naturally, for my own good.