The disastrous make-up Picasso Part#1
I grew up as the lone ranger of my household , the one and only girl child. And boy! was I intrigued by the way my mom dolled up! My mom always dresses up by adding just a pinch of makeup magic to her routine. Kajal under her eyes, a dab of lipstick ,nothing too extravagant. And then, there it was, a fancy bottle of foundation standing guard like a VIP bouncer, reserved only for the most dazzling occasions. And oh, it's scent! It was like bottled dreams and elegance.
I was living in a time long before digital fashion gurus graced our screens. In my world, foundation and makeup were basically interchangeable words. I mean, come on, who could blame me for thinking that, right? If only life were as simple as my innocent assumptions.
In the midst of being a quiet introvert, I had my moments of pure mischief. And oh boy, did I have a thing for lipsticks! I couldn’t tell you why ,it’s just one of those unsolved mysteries of my childhood. Now, my mom had a no-lipstick policy for her baby girl .According to her, innocent skin didn’t deserve such color extravagance until it matured. Naturally, I found myself calculating the exact number of years, days, and seconds left until I could finally grace my lips with those vibrant shades.
But let me tell you, my mischievous side was not about to play by the rules. Those weekends were my battlegrounds, my secret missions. You know how it goes?! my mom, weary from the week, would drift off into afternoon slumber land. And that was my cue. Sneakily, I’d tiptoe over to her lipstick stash, like a pint-sized secret agent on a top-secret mission. One by one, I’d try on those shades, striking poses in front of the mirror like a mini supermodel. But here’s the kicker , I’d erase all evidence before her sleepy eyes could catch me. Oh, the ninja skills I possessed! Can you believe it? I was the James Bond of lipstick capers, and my mom’s blissful ignorance was my greatest weapon.
Now coming back to the present , my lipstick obsession? It’s still alive and kicking! I’ve got a squad of liquid lipsticks that I adore. But there’s something new in town,the art of makeup. Now, bear with me, because for ages, my face had only known a dot of BB cream and endless attempts at perfecting kajal. Oh, the struggle was real man! those sneaky oil mines on my face made sure my kajal had its own smudged masterpiece , ready to get me ready for a Halloween party.
Now, between my innocent days and the great kajal smudge saga, I also ventured into the realm of colored makeup. There was a distant relative who’d make trips back to India from the USA ,bearing eyeshadow palettes. Was it really him? Or perhaps his undercover mother, my 'aunt,' doing the deed? That would always remain a mystery! Now, I’m not here to judge the brand or the price tags , but let’s just say that these palettes had a "Made in China" stamp that was probably bigger than my artistic ambitions. Still, I’d receive these treasures with open arms, and my inner makeup Picasso would emerge. My face? It was the blank canvas, no primer needed. Suddenly, I was Picasso with pink, orange, blue, and black paint.
Even the blush was in the action, turning my cheeks into twin tomatoes. And hold on, the masterpiece wasn’t confined to just my face. No sir, I even played makeup artist on my mom’s face.
Looking back, I can’t help but chuckle at my untrained artistic skills.Let’s be honest, I was a cute -little makeup mastermind with more enthusiasm than skill. But each of those memories are priceless nuggets of laughter and adventure, reminding me of those sometimes, it’s the journey that leaves us giggling every time we remember!
Well, that was only one of the many stories of the artistic endeavours of my girlhood. Gradually, I will come up with more stories on the same topic - as a mini series of blogs.
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