Have You Ever Accidentally Spent A Month Naked?

Don't Leave Home Without It!

I have another confession. Perhaps not as horrid as the pimple popping, but still garish enough, I spent an entire month naked. Yes, I retired myself from wearing makeup for a month. An entire month. As in, I didn’t wear a single product except for moisturizer. You might be thinking that this is slightly contradictory, as someone who, you know, loves the whole beauty/glam thing, especially makeup. I agree. This wasn’t a conscious decision. It wasn’t an experiment or anything like that. Merely a thing of circumstance. I was vaguely aware as each day went by that I hadn’t slapped the old face on, but I had gotten so caught up in a bunch of other things that time went flying by. It wasn’t until I was meant to be going out one night for a function that I broke out all the gear, did the math and was stunned to realize that a month had gone by. It’s kind of scary when you lose all that time. What’s more scary is realizing that you had survived not putting on your face. That being said, I wasn’t happy about it. It was an eye-opening experience for I had engaged in the behaviour that I myself rally against.

As an aside, I hadn’t given up completely. My hair remained being fussed over, pampered and copious hours devoted to it. Some things will never change. Psychologically speaking, with regards to the makeup debacle, I felt worn down, sluggish and fairly depressed about the whole thing. However, that night as I applied my fabulous Estee Lauder foundation and pulled out the stops with my eyes, making them pop like fireworks with silver and gold, my spirit lifted. I am now, more than ever, confident that we must definitely force ourselves, no matter what’s going on, to take the time to engage in these rituals. Since this revelation, I have been diligent in my makeup practices. It’s a slippery slope I realize. Similar to the year that I spent in yoga pants—an emotional disaster of epic proportions, but I won’t get into that just yet!