OK, so when I was three I stole my older sister’s only tube of lipstick. I smeared it over myself and many of her belongings. Someone thought it was cute and took a picture. My sister didn’t, and I can guarantee she was fuming behind said picture-taker.

The long(er) story: Looking back, this behavior probably shouldn’t have been reinforced… for a number of reasons, including the least important of all: Not much has changed. I can say this because some twenty years later, I am still this irresponsible and careless with makeup. It’s not that I don’t want to be, but I can’t really bring myself to work hard at something as trivial as form when function cannot (in my world) supersede it.

I do try. I try to put on makeup in the mornings …sometimes… when the desire comes over me and in the rare instances where I’ve had a sufficient amount of sleep. Because my eyelashes are fair, every couple of months, I’ll get them tinted (see definition here). When I found out about eyelash tinting, I thought it was the best thing ever. Mainly because I was (at the time) swimming daily and mostly because I couldn’t be bothered to reapply mascara. I also rub my eyes on an hourly basis -which I know is not the best habit, but one I cannot stop doing. Rubbing eyes + mascara or eyeliner = black raccoon eyes.

If possible, this is worse than it sounds.

It’s a lot worse.

The frustrating thing is that I encounter people who have mastered the “well-put together” skill perfectly. It’s one of the many downsides of living in a big city. I don’t get it. Do these people not have to go to work? Do they not have dishes and laundry? Most of my day is taken up by these things, and I have maybe 1.558 percent of free time left.

Maybe I’ll improve in another 20 years time.

HOPE for ME.