My daughter recently received her first makeup kit for her birthday, and like any child in today’s world, she eagerly suggested we watch some YouTube tutorials for “looks.” After a surprisingly lengthy search, we found a “beginner-friendly” tutorial. She was captivated, while I sat there utterly perplexed.
What were all these products? What were these techniques? Terms like bake, contour, cut crease, and waterline swirled around me like a foreign language. How did we go from simple application to this complex routine? And why was there a kitchen sponge in the mix? I suddenly felt as though I had been doing my own makeup wrong my entire life.
I recalled my awkward teenage years, watching the more glamorous girls effortlessly apply their makeup after gym class. No one had ever genuinely taught me the ropes, except for a scene from “My Girl.” I doubted the advice that “a girl can never have too much blue eyeshadow” still held any weight. In fact, my current makeup collection was barely an upgrade from her shiny new kit. I had never set foot in a real makeup store for myself, and I was clearly behind the curve.
As we stood at the bathroom mirror, she looked to me for guidance as a “makeup-wearing adult.” I started with my usual application of foundation directly onto her face, only to be met with her immediate correction: “That’s not how she did it, Mom.” I could feel my cheeks flush from the mounting pressure, and it didn’t help that I was reusing the same brush for both foundation and blush.
What was I supposed to say? The anxiety was palpable, and I couldn’t reveal my lack of expertise, especially since I had been doing this for years. I tried to recall my mother’s words from my childhood: “You have such natural beauty; you don’t even need makeup.” I had accepted that then, but now I was questioning its validity.
My daughter certainly didn’t need makeup; I hoped my mother’s wisdom would save me from my lack of skill, so I echoed her sentiment. “You don’t need it, honey.”
She tilted her head and gave me a sassy look, “I know I don’t need it, but I want it.”
Touché, little one. In that moment, I felt the weight of a pivotal mom-daughter experience slipping away due to my makeup cluelessness. Desperate, I pivoted to a more fun approach: “Let’s just have fun with it, okay?”
Her face lit up, and she quickly got on board. Mimicking the tutorial, she transformed me into her canvas, calling me “honey” and pretending to film a tutorial. She held up her tools, giggling as she repeated new terms she didn’t fully understand. I couldn’t help but laugh along, as we both navigated this colorful chaos together.
By the end of our makeup adventure, it felt less like a tutorial and more like the bonding moment I had envisioned. Maybe I could keep my makeup secrets a little longer. However, I knew I should brush up on some tutorials myself, just in case she brought the heat again. Perhaps I should also do my makeup in private or consult friends who knew what they were doing. I clearly had a lot to learn before she figured it out.
For more insights on parenting and makeup, be sure to check out one of our other blog posts. If you’re interested in pregnancy resources, this is an excellent read on pregnancy and home insemination. You can also explore more about self insemination and similar topics through these links: Home insemination kit, Home insemination syringe, Self insemination, Pregnancy tips, and Delivery options.
In summary, navigating the world of makeup with my daughter led to unexpected lessons about beauty and bonding. While I might not be the expert she expected, we found joy in the process, proving that makeup is as much about creativity and connection as it is about technique.