When I told Yann that I was a fan of Shrinkle’s (who I was following on Instagram before my hyped departure) makeup, he interpreted it as sarcasm. Makeup is supposed to conceal blemishes and enhance natural features. If you instead choose to use your face as a canvas for prismatic powders, you are supposedly inviting aggressively rude comments from people online. But, I wasn’t sarcastic, I do think Shrinkle is the epitome of painted beauty.
I may not have adopted this aesthetic, but I see makeup as a type of artistic expression. It makes people more interesting to look at, what’s not appealing about this?
It’s also expensive and time-consuming. Tattoos, while expensive, saves me the trouble of getting up every morning to draw on–and then colour–my body. Then, taking slightly more effort is killing my natural hair colour with a packet of bleach powder and cream developer every six or so weeks. I’ve been keeping my natural hair colour a secret for 24 years (hint: it’s not blue). I’m not sure why it’s at all surprising that I’d be in favour of theatrical makeup as an everyday look.
Natural beauty is for the genetically lucky, while artificial beauty is for everyone.
I have just enough energy in the mornings to apply a minimum of five coats of the thickest, blackest mascara. Sometimes I’ll be extra and do the bottom lashes too. I like the halved ping pong ball eyes look.
The photo below was taken during the Vancouver 2010 Olympics: people were happy to see me imitate one of the beloved mascots. That headwear went into the garbage shortly afterwards as I knew people wouldn’t find it cute post-Olympics. (Anyway, it was made of carved spray foam insulation. Wearing it nearly cooked my brain.)
My opinion on out-there fashion is the same: I won’t partake, but I’d gladly be an appreciator. I do not have the dedication to shop around nor style myself every morning. It does not help that what I like aesthetically is not compatible with what I like recreationally. In a perfect world, it would be socially acceptable to dress as if it were Halloween year-round. Society barely tolerates kitty ears outside of Halloween. (And during Halloween, they get upset if you wear only that!)
I’d like to be kicking ass in platform heels. I liked Spice Girl shoes so much as a preteen that I got a pair of 3″ high tri-coloured foam sandals that I’d wear with my oversized horse t-shirts and those ubiquitous checkered Umbro soccer shorts of the 90s. Even though my outfit clashed horribly, it was reflective of my personality. I am a potpourri of individual interests that don’t work together well.
Without outlandish clothing to back up my taste in footwear, I’ve been keeping it low-key. Over the years, I’ve rounded up a few fun choices to keep in my closet, ready for all those special events to which I’ll never get invited:
You know what comment people make when they don’t want to be rude?
It makes me a little sad that my feet don’t get to be interesting very often. I’ve since then substituted eye-catching shoes for statement eyewear. Unlike with heeled shoes, people are used to seeing me in showy eyeglasses. As a plus, because they’re a necessity, that small part of me can be stylish, even when I’m roughing it. Luckily, white cat-eye frames go well with performance fleece and quick-dry pants.
If it took minimal effort, I’d style myself as if I were a (non-busty) video game character.
Now for some less superficial surprises:
I enjoy movies and books (putting aside the thought that I’m not currently in my reading phase) about war–but not true crime, even though war is true crime on a grander scale. The stories are horrible yet intensely interesting, and I feel like there’s value in knowing history. I’ve watched the miniseries, Band of Brothers three times, and read the book it was based on.
I genuinely liked the show, The Good Wife. I don’t remember how I came about watching it, because it does not sound like a show I’d enjoy. It’s a legal drama about a lawyer who won’t leave her husband even though he cheated on her, and she doesn’t like him anymore. It’s jammed with wacky characters (Kurt McVeigh and Josh Perotti were my faves), bizarre court cases, and hot, steamy romance. I’d like to say I’ve watched all seven seasons, but I don’t remember when Kalinda was replaced by Jason, and it’s not on Netflix anymore.
The only time you’d find coffee in my mug is if it’s whole beans encased in dark chocolate, preferably frozen. I’ve never been a coffee drinker, and won’t even allow it to mix with my hot chocolate. Bean juice is gross hot or cold: I’ll ingest coffee only by chewing.
I can name more than three professional ballet dancers and what some of the moves are called. I’ve never taken ballet lessons, but as a child, I tried emulating the dance by doing jetés around the living room only to be criticized for my lack of grace. “Ballet dancers are graceful! You’re just thumping around!” Mom would angrily tell me.
So, rather than be an embarrassment to the art form, I’ve decided to appreciate it as a spectator.
While I’m discussing the fine arts, I’ll mention that I like both Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock‘s works. I think they get so much hate because their paintings posthumously sold for a ridiculous amount. No painting is worth $100 million.
I think that’s about it. I’m predictable in every other way.
What are some things people are surprised to learn that you like?