The Cinderella Myth
I've been doing some thinking about where and why the whole cosmetics/ clothing industry thrives on women. And I think I've got it figured out. The whole thing starts in childhood, when some well-meaning person reads out the Cinderella fairy tale to a little girl. And she starts planning on two things for her future – Prince Charming who's coming to take her away from the drudgery, and the transformation scene with the fairy godmother. So when you grow up, naturally you spend all your time and money looking for that fairy godmother. Each time you go to a gay hairstylist, you're praying for the before-and-after scene.
Same thing happens each time you visit a make-up counter. And especially when they promise you a make-over, you're like "Omigod, my childhood fantasy is coming true at last. Next thing you know the PC will be coming on his white charger/ personal Learjet!" And with my supreme bad luck, you get a make-up artist who doesn't know how to deal with a face that doesn't have flaws to skillfully conceal/ minimize under a few litres of concealer. Hey I'm not saying I'm a beauty but my features are fine. So the one time I went in for a professional make-over, the MUA was all, "Your eyes are too big, we have to make them look smaller. Your lips are too full and even. Your skin doesn't have any zits…" you get the drift. By the time I emerged from the scented lair, I looked like the bride of Frankenstein . I even got my sister to take a picture of my 'make-under' to remind me never to get this done again.
But clearly I don't learn from experience, because a couple years later, when I was getting married, I again lined up a MUA to do my face for the reception. At my own wedding I did my own make-up and even today when I look at those pictures, I feel I look like myself, and I look good. But on my reception? First of all, the MUA was really late in arriving. Our reception was on 25th Dec, and she had forgotten to tell me that she was half Christian and needed to be at Church that morning, so she came barely half hour before the reception. She was supposed to do up both my sister's and my face, and my sister was developing a stye in one eye. So that naturally became the emergency that took precedence and by the time she was done, my sister looked stunning. But then she always does. So the MUA had about 10 minutes to get my face over with. She started with Foundation, a product I cordially detest, went on to pin my hair sideways and then used a dull shade of lipstick – a king of muddy brown. By then A and I were late for our own reception and some of our friends had already arrived, so we hotfooted it to the venue. Let's just say that when I look at those pictures, apart from one taken in the lobby of the hotel where we were staying, which was very well lit, I would be happy if I weren't in so many of the pictures. But when it's your own wedding reception, what are you gonna do?
Same thing befell my sister at her wedding. At her reception, she looked washed out while I actually looked glowy. Not fair. So lesson well-learnt, from now on we're eschewing all hopes of transformation by a fairy godmother. And as far as Prince Charming goes, nix to that too. And think of the saving in horse-feed!