Given my chosen career I think about beauty a lot. Most likely more than most. I find myself drawn to things that are aesthetically pleasing. As such, I struggle to find a time when that was not the case. Like most little girls, I was fascinated watching my mother engage in her beauty rituals. A spritz of perfume, a coat of lipstick, a well chosen accessory, I was enthralled and completely mesmerized. These seemingly innocuous experiences helped shape me into the woman, and makeup artist, I am today.
I can remember watching my mother apply her makeup in her amber hued vanity mirror. She had a powder brush with red fluffy bristles. Once she had completed her makeup, I would then go in and pick off the red bristles that had shed on her cheeks. I probably resembled a little makeup loving, preening baboon! To this day my mother attests to my early love of makeup, and my propensity for critiquing her application and color selection. If that wasn’t a sign of things to come, I don’t know what it is!
I can also recall the one time my father got me ready for preschool. My mother, who was usually in charge of taming my thick hair and unruly (read: precocious) personality in the morning, had to go into work earlier than usual so my father was left to the arduous task. I can still remember arriving at preschool with my barrette tangled in my hair and a less than sunny disposition, simply horrified at looking less than stellar for “school.” One of the teaching aides took pity on me and quickly fixed my hair. My father was relieved of hair styling duties thereafter.
Do you remember the old tubes of upright Crest toothpaste? It came in a tube that you pumped? To my hair product savvy toddler self, Crest toothpaste looked an awful lot like my mother’s cans of hair mousse. It didn’t matter that the toothpaste was blue and sparkly; I was craving some serious volume and sought to achieve it with my toothpaste/mousse. I can vaguely remember the glittery, slick results and the subsequent shampooing it took to finally rid myself of my minty fresh do.
These are just some of my earliest beauty memories. In the instance of watching my mother get ready for the day, they were special bonding moments, just her and I. Whereas having my father do my hair was an experience not to be repeated! The same can be said for my sporting Crest as hair product. Looking back, these experiences make me laugh and they remind me of a time when someone else helped shape my appearance. I have certainly come a long way, but I cherish these sweet, nostalgic memories.
What are some of your first beauty memories? Do you look back on them fondly with a smile or do you cringe?