One of my earliest memories is watching my mother apply her makeup. If I was lucky, she let me try some. She called it "putting on my face." What a perfect description of what so many of us feel compelled to do every morning.
We start wearing makeup before we even have a chance to know who we are without it, let alone love who we are without it.
Instead of the typical smoke-filled room, (second-hand smoke is detrimental to the skin) the air is thick with a strong mix of Jo Malone, Bond No. 9, and Marc Jacobs perfumes.
My feelings about makeup shifted when I was at my worst. I went from approaching makeup as something almost businesslike to something desperate.