Making Up With Makeup
Words by Aimée Ortiz
I remember when in high school, I didn’t do makeup. My mother always tried to get me to fill my brows and wear lip gloss, but I had “perfect friends” whose bare faces had all the boys drooling. Never in a million years did I think that their personalities had anything to do with the way boys looked at them. They were always “pretty,” whereas I was just “nerdy,” but we all had faces, and I thought I could somehow level the playing field by not wearing makeup. It wasn’t until years later that I realized how much I wanted to be like them and how imperfect -as we all are- they were.
During those years, I rejected everything that had to do with beauty products. I believed that if my face was altered in any way, it wasn’t beautiful. I was right in thinking that natural beauty was worthy. Still, as a creative, I closed myself off from what eventually became one of my favorite fields to play in.
When I started college, all my friend's influence was gone along with our friendships. I was at a crossroads between things I thought I liked and who I was. As cliché as it sounds, it was a time to redefine myself according to my tastes. I got a job selling credit cards at the mall in my junior year and found MAC. I never looked back.
I wondered why I had deprived myself of the artistry of putting makeup on all those years! I needed to absorb everything. I indulged in collections and made a routine that I more or less follow to this day.
My rituals are simple. I wash my face and put on eye cream, serum, and SPF. Then, the favorite part of my day starts.
First, I fill my eyebrows in the scarce spots of my naturally thin shape. I curse my genetics for giving me so much hair in other body parts that could have been more useful on my eyebrows and lashes. If my brows are not done, I can’t see the look.
Then I move down to my eyes, a little hooded almond-shaped, deep Puerto Rican brown eyes. I choose colorful looks; I wear purples, blues, yellows, and oranges. Neutrals only if I’m meeting a client. Even then, there’s still a possibility I’ll pop some aqua eyeliner in my lower lash line. My eyes are canvases I get to paint and erase every day. I contour them, make them glow, and add a little depth and some inner corner highlight. Suddenly, my eyes are dimensional, expressive, and fun.
I continue with the rest of my face. I blend my foundation and dab on a bit of concealer with a peach undertone. Then, I apply bronzer to shorten my forehead and bring warmth to my face. I dab some cream blush on my cheeks and highlight the high points of my face. I make a classic pouty lip to put on lipstick, and I’m ready.
When the pandemic hit, putting on makeup was one of the few things I could keep doing to retain some sense of normalcy. I looked up makeup tutorials on how to do your makeup for zoom meetings (eyeliner and mascara are your best friends!) and put on colorful lipstick every day. My coworkers wondered why I still did that if societal rules were crumbling around us. Still, they asked me to turn on the camera. I became the official lipstick girl for the “bravery” of wearing colorful hues during a global pandemic. But makeup, for me, has never been about other people.
It is the face I joyfully create and choose to put forward to the world daily. Not to cover my under eyes or hide any blemish I might have, but to express myself differently. I like how it has evolved from frosty pink eyeshadow in college to a better-suited halo eye for a night out with friends.
But the most important thing is that as long as I like it, who gives a shit? I have no control over many things in life, but I can just rub off makeup and start again.
I always have an excuse to stop at pharmacies or beauty retailers. There’s always something new to swatch, to be mesmerized by. Even when I travel, I buy lipstick as a souvenir from where I’ve been. Just as some people plan outfits, I prepare makeup looks for vacations.
I’ve felt self-conscious sometimes about what other people may think about this. How do they perceive my spending, choices, and vanity? But when that judgy voice visits, I just remember that we all have our own things we like to invest in, and frankly, people don’t think about you as much as you think they do. Unless you’re wearing red lips. Then you’re the red lips girl, and you’re unforgettable.
Some days makeup is war paint. Other times it is the activity I lose myself to. But it is always a creative expression of the seasons of my life.