For a while there, it seemed I'd really found my calling. I love makeup, I love writing, and most of all I love people telling me how funny and talented and clever I am all the time. I don't know how many people noticed, although by my count it's at least two, but I hit the makeup-writing wall recently and began to hate everything about what I was doing. So I stopped.
There were a few brain-things that happened which seemed to suggest an ultimate conclusion: that being funny about makeup actually maybe wasn't my life's work. I had things written up, ready to post and the more I read them, the more they just seemed totally facile. If I wanted to punch my own self in the face for being such a dumb-dumb, how could I possibly expect a good reception on the internet, the unfriendliest place on earth?
Because I knew, in my heart of hearts, that makeup isn't really important, that lipstick choices are a waste of brain-space, and that spending time thinking about this instead of "valuable" life pursuits is probably going to gradually turn me into even more of a shithead than I already am.
Another problem I faced was my unjustifiably high opinion of myself. As someone who had by no means earned their stripes, I was (and, let's face it, still am) quick to distinguish my "craft" from normal beauty writing. After you hear what you do described as "social commentary and psychological insight cunningly disguised as fashion and beauty journalism" you can't help but think "yes! that is exactly what I do!" and never want to settle for doing anything less.
Another problem: apparently to get paid to write about makeup, you have to make people want to spend their money on makeup. Which in a way, I don't mind doing, because makeup brings me some of the simplest joys in life, when life is often a pile of balls and it rains all the time and I still live with my parents and I can't see a clear future for myself and I seem to just hear bad news all the time. Sometimes, amongst all that, finding something that makes your face look more how you want your face to look, or which helps you dress up as a cool girl for the day genuinely can make life a bit better. But true happiness can't be purchased in a compact or a squeezy tube, no matter how expensive that compact or squeezy tube is. All it contains is makeup, not a magic potion which objectively improves anything.
And I truly object to an idea that one could buy happiness in any capacity. Makeup is just stuff. Sometimes it's really good stuff that really can ameliorate your mood, and even your day, but it's all just stuff. Having a lot of makeup doesn't and can't make one happy. But for me, it probably does help even a bit.
So for me to say, as a "beauty writer" (yikes), you don't need any of this stuff I tell you is good, I'm pretty much shooting myself in the foot. Money-making potential from beauty writing is based almost solely on the capacity to constantly invent new things which people need, and keep them in a constant cycle of buying things FOREVER. Instead, what I want to say to any girl (or any boy or anyone might be tempted into trying to purchase joy) is that you don't need anything to be fine. You are fine right now and anything you want to put on your face needs to come from you wanting to do it and nothing else. If you are trying to solve face-problems which somebody or something else has told you exist, that isn't what makeup should be about. I'm telling you now, tricking yourself into thinking your naked face is just as good and fine as your made-up one is the only way to enjoy makeup, and probably the only way to enjoy life.
And another thing - I think there is some sort of pernicious mythology that girls who like makeup cannot possibly like anything else. I do like makeup, and probably more than the average person. But I like loads of other things - wandering about in nature, knitting, dogs, dancing like a fool, drinking, jokes, documentaries, reading books, hugging, tasty snacks. And when I'm thinking about any of those things, you can be absolutely sure I'm not thinking about makeup at all. You would never ever assume, for example, that someone who plays the guitar is incapable of going out for dinner without thinking about barre-chords the whole time, or that somebody who enjoys painting can't not-paint for the majority of hours of their day. Makeup isn't some mad addiction. It's a regular hobby, like whatever hobbies you may have; it isn't all consuming and it doesn't leak out and infect the rest of your life. You can like more than one thing at the same time, did you know? Even if one of the things you like is makeup!
Makeup is basically stupid, and I know it, and you know it, so let's stop discussing that, shall we? What I do want to discuss is the amount of hours a day the average person wastes on other stuff which is also basically stupid. Half-watching crappy films you've already seen before, or aimlessly running around fake worlds in games, or flicking through the newspaper without actually reading anything. It's just things that people do. I don't see why such value judgements need to be placed on stuff you do with your day, especially if that stuff is essentially harmless. You can spend a few minutes rambling about the internet looking at stupid things, I'll spend a few minutes putting shiny eyeliner on and brushing my eyebrows upwards. Deal?
So, maybe this is a waste of everyone's time - but it is probably no more a waste of my time than spending a whole day watching every episode of that weird Lindsay Lohan docu-series. And at least this way, at the very least I'll have some sort of record of what stuff I liked the smear on my face over the years. I like this stuff, and while I may be discovering that it isn't the thing I like best in the world, I can't deny the pleasure I get from rubbing sweet smelling, brightly colored, iridescent goop into my face.
Yes, this is an industry powered by all the stuff I hate - making people buy shit they don't need, imagining problems to which the only solution is to consume, and, most importantly, reminding women to feel bad about themselves. But I know all this. And I'm not going to do it that way. If it does transpire that for me to continue doing this whole "writing about makeup" (or, as I'm loathe to call it, "beauty writing") thing, that I'm going to have to be on board with that, then I'll stop this nonsense. But for now, if I can encourage people to take their personal aesthetics into their own hands and be happy about how they do look and can look, then that's something I can properly be on board with.