I have vivid memories of watching my mom put her makeup on in the bathroom mirror. Sometimes she’d ask me to brush her long, dark hair and add a polishing cream to the ends to make the stray hairs lay down flat. I remember being envious of how beautiful she looked and wondering if I’d ever grow up to be that pretty. “Maybe when I’m 27”, I’d think.
Before I was allowed to wear makeup out of the house, my mom insisted on teaching me how to properly apply my foundation, powder, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. When I’d wear too much eyeliner or dark eyeshadow, per my mother, she’d take my makeup away until I was ready to wear it correctly. If I was grounded from wearing makeup, I’d borrow my friend’s eyeliner and apply it in a car mirror on my way to school; totally gross, but middle-school-me didn’t care. Reflecting on those years, I am grateful that I had a mother who invested time into me; I know that not all children get to experience that.
This year, I’ll turn 27, and one of the best compliments I receive is how much I favor my mother. After a much needed, adults only, double date, my reluctant husband accompanied me to Ulta for an, “in and out, I know exactly what I’m getting” shopping trip. $80 later, I was a happy girl and my husband, will never step in that store again. I picked up two new hair products, an eyebrow pencil, two new makeup brushes, a lip moisturizer, a beauty blender, and new foundation. I couldn’t wait to use my new goodies!
My mother taught me to smile when applying blush to my cheek bones. I was to pull the blush across my cheek, at an upwards angle, to the side of my face. She was teaching me to contour, bless her! I still use my moms makeup methods today and Millie now watches me in the bathroom mirror. Somehow, my sweet angel must have gotten very confused because she used mommy’s new blush brush to scrub the toilet. My husband saw her first, took the brush from her, and he found it hysterical; “that’s one way to use it!” Blush brush = toilet scrubber.
The next day, while I was curling my hair, Millie decided to paint the bathroom cabinets. (She found a dry paint brush and it kept her occupied.) I was singing and she was babbling. I finished my hair, looked down to compliment Mills work, and to my surprise there were brown drawings on my white, vanity doors. At some point, Millie dropped the paint brush, found my new eyebrow pencil, and went to town! My husband found that funny, too.
Millie’s “innovative” ways of using makeup has surpassed anything that I could’ve thought of. The drawings have yet to be erased. Cheers to 27, makeup, and daughters.