After reading one too many of those clickbait articles “I gave up sugar for a month and here’s what happened” I decided to go ahead and take the plunge. I can do something drastic for a limited amount of time. And then write about my experience, under the pretense of helping and informing others but really just to see my thoughts typed out on a computer screen.
I was sick of feeling sluggish and tired all the time. I wanted to look and feel better about myself. I wanted to take control of my life for once instead of just being a passenger in my own life. So I went for it. I’m not talking about something silly and superficial, like sugar or dairy or alcohol or whatever the latest food group is to shun.
I’m talking about something profound and transformative. I’m talking about makeup.
I wore makeup for a whole week, guys. A whole entire week. That’s six days more than I normally wear it, seven if Brent and I aren’t headed into the city Saturday night.
I have nothing against makeup and would probably wear it more often if I wasn’t so lazy. Also, it’s kind of expensive. Even drugstore makeup is like twenty bucks for foundation and mascara, the only products I even wear. With time and money conspiring against me, I wear makeup like five times a year.
I knew we’d be taking a ton of pictures in London and I wanted to look nice for a change, so I brought along my makeup bag w/ my mascara tube from college and the lipsticks I bought for my wedding and thought about how European chic I would be. Turns out European chic Brigid still forgets about lipstick, so those were just adding to the weight of my suitcase (and it’s totally the lipsticks fault we were charged for overweight luggage).
I gave myself an extra ten to fifteen minutes in the morning to get ready w/ my new makeup routine. I know most girls who wear makeup on the reg have their routine down to a science, and I really wish I could be one of them b/c if it took me two minutes to apply it I might wear it more often, but w/ my clumsy hands and hotel lighting, ten to fifteen minutes was the sweet spot.
When we got back from London, I was talking about the trip and showing some of the pictures to someone at work. Most of the pictures were attractions like Big Ben, the London Eye, Tower Bridge, etc, but there were a few selfies of Brent and me on there. The first time I scrolled past a picture of me he actually stopped, scrolled back and squinted down at it. This is you? He asked in his Brazillian accent. You look so different! So nice! You usually just look like..., and he trailed off and gestured at me, in my current state of unkempt hair, floured apron and ruddy rosacea cheeks.
It’s a kitchen, not a catwalk, okay?
I thought I would experience headaches and mood crashes throughout the week. I was sure I would slip up somehow. It was a real nail biter up to the last day, but I made it. Seven days, that’s all you need to
change your life get some cute new profile pics.