my first makeup

I must have been about 9 or 10 years old when I asked my mom if I could start wearing makeup. She agreed that I was probably old enough to wear a little, so one afternoon, she took me to the drug store. I was elated!

“What kind of makeup should I get?” I asked her when we were in the car. 

“Maybe some mascara,” she suggested. “It will draw attention to your pretty eyes.”

Mascara! I smiled to myself. My own mascara!

As we got closer to the store, though, I had a sudden thought and became worried. “Mom?” I asked. “Do you think God likes us to wear makeup?”

“What do you mean?” she asked me.

“I mean, do you think he gets sad when we wear makeup, because he thinks we’re already beautiful just the way he made us?”

My mom thought about it for a minute, then answered, “Well, God does think we’re beautiful. But, we don’t wear makeup to cover faces up and look different; we wear it to enhance the beautiful faces God gave us. So, he doesn’t mind.”

I reflected on that idea for a few seconds, then decided that she was right. So, once we arrived at the store, I bounded inside to the makeup section. And there, my mom bought me my first makeup: a shiny new tube of clear mascara.

“It doesn’t have any color,” my mom explained, “but the gel will make your eyelashes look a little darker.”

I’m not sure if this is how my mom remembers that day, but this is how I remember it from my little 10-year-old perspective. And, 100% accurate or not, it’s one of my favorite memories with my mom.

Do you remember the first makeup you ever got? Have you thought about buying makeup with your own daughter one day?

– Jillian

2 thoughts on “my first makeup

  1. I don’t remember my first makeup purchase. I probably just got to use my older sister’s stuff. (Although playing with Grandma’s fluorescent pink lip stick and the various purple and blue eye shadows was always fun when I stayed overnight.) However, your conversation with your mom reminded me of a similar one I had with my mother. We were sitting in the family station wagon, listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on cassette. I asked “Mom, do you think Jesus wants us to listen to this music?” She said, “You know what, probably not.” And she threw it out.

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