I was reminded of something yesterday as I was training up my 12 new plastic-free challengers for 2012 (more on that later). I was talking about purging plastic from the bathroom, and told everyone that I had kept my mascara as the one “treat” item.
Well, I am happy to report that, two years later, I have finally kicked the habit…and in hindsight, the “treat” concept was a little misguided.
Swimming is wonderful without the burden of worrying that my eyes have drifted to down my cheeks. My eyes don’t get cruddy bits in them during the day and in the morning, I don’t have to do one of these:
…well, the funny thing is that sometimes I still do out of pure habit…bizarre muscle memory.
The best of all, I can cry generously and rub my eyes equally so. Oh the freedom! Once again, something I never knew I missed.
I feel all the more, me.
I searched for the origins of the word marcara, interested where the whole practice of masking ones self in such a fashion came from. I had to laugh when I came across the Arabic term maskharah or ‘buffoon’.
2. a foolish person
Let’s go back to the image shall we:
Ladies. Please don’t think I am making fun of anyone but myself. I totally still enjoy a good application once in a blue moon. I even once tried dyeing my lashes, but felt so claustrophobic having to keep my eyes closed for several minutes as the stinging, likely toxic, substance seeped into my balls. Not recommended. However, the good news is that you can “Macgyver Your Makeup”. As the fancy holiday parties roll on, perhaps this would be a good time to try it out!