Intrinsic Care (and Why the Makeup Stain on Your Mask Should Please You)
It was such a relief at first! Barely leaving the house under the requirements of the mandatory quarantine, I was left alone with my most innate self. Even if I did leave, the good-old glasses disguise of Superman had reincarnated into its new form - masks, making me almost unrecognizable outside.
There was no need to set my alarm for 30 minutes earlier to dress up, put makeup on. The solution to a bad hair day was as simple as a “Stop the Video” button on the left hand corner of the Zoom. My cozy, home-like portrait was squashed into a rectangular frame: A well-groomed body on the upper half and a pair of legs snuggled by a pyjamas on the bottom, referencing myself to a centaur was inevitable.
Soon the mist of comfiness cleared up, unveiling my extrinsic motivations to take care of myself, which disappeared as soon as my ties with the external drifted apart. 24-hours of leggings and t-shirts, messy buns, and especially a me, who stopped looking at the mirror, not caring what to see on it, were not the synonyms of comfort.
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According to a research conducted by L’Oréal, involvement with makeup products rises as the interaction with other people increases. This research “found that some 34% of Chinese women wore makeup in February, during the peak of the lockdown - this figure has now increased to 68% in late June to early July,” when life turned back to its so-called normal state. The Youtube views of the fitness Youtuber Chloe Ting, who,as the movement of the quarantine, rose sharply in May, identified with the hopes of “glowing-up after quarantine” (Glowing to whom? Yes, the same question...), and slowly decreased to its pre-virus state as people realized that this situation is longer than a “21-day challenge.” A full circle, back to snack-fed bellies that we can hide under the frame of Zoom…
Even though I was relieved by learning I was not the only one who got motivated by her surroundings, this meant that there are even more people who perceive the process of “adornment” as something that is done for others.
How one looks is a representation of self. Our characters are not solid; They are fluids that change and adapt, depending on the situations and people we interact with. Reminded of something? Yes, just like our fits. My location was the indoors of my home. The person I interacted with the most was myself. Yet, the girl I checked out on the tall dressing mirror did not reflect the “me.” Once a friend told me, if clothes are our armors, the girl I saw was the most defenseless me I had ever experienced, when she had to be the strongest in the midst of a pandemic, alone.
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As Margherita Cardelli of Giuliva Heritage said, “Dressing up is who we are. It is a way to stand up for our values that definitely are not going to be put aside because of the virus. Rather, they’re felt even stronger.” I was not going to be the one who put her zest to the shelf.
That day, I shuffled my most recent playlist and put on my “to wear at a very special event” fit. When I stood in front of the mirror, I realized that I longed to illustrate my appearance on a new day’s blank page. I dressed up. I wore my mask on top of my makeup. There was no one to see it. However, finally, after weeks of neglecting the need to look like myself, there I stood in my boots in the middle of the bedroom with my makeup smudged on my mask.
And I loved it.
(picture by Su Karaca)
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