39 Reasons To Wear Make-Up

Granted, this is my Lady Gaga Halloween costume from 3 years ago, but oh well.

One way make-up made me cowardly? After winning 4,000 tickets at Dave & Busters (yes I went to Dave & Busters, don’t judge me) a small child ran off with my full bucket, and I didn’t do anything about it. If it weren’t for my mascara and concealer, I would have faced the thief and retrieved my hard earned tickets. If only I had washed my face before I went out.

What was I doing? I'm not too sure, but can we just go ahead and say that I was just being awesome, for awesome's sakes?

Yes, I will never be among those brave ladies who fiercely charge into the outside world barefaced. In my defense, this was for Halloween dressed as burlesque star, Dita von Teese, but I would be lying if I said that red lipstick wasn't my go-to colour. My desire to look like a painted strumpet came from years of my mother condemning bold lips. These days I make a point to find the brightest, most dramatic, matte, red lipstick in existence whenever I know I'm going to be seeing her.

Obviously I am empowered - some might say "aggrandized and deluded" by the wearing of cosmetics. This kind of bitch power is not found with cleanser and Chapstick.

I think I should get extra points for this one, since I am in bed, but *with* makeup! My friend and I were back at our hotel room after another friend's wedding had ended tragically soon (due to hurricane). While I took these pictures, my friend was on the other bed, pining over a guy that she was pretty much stalking. I suspect that was the reason she really wanted to come to this wedding in Halifax, aka the other side of the country - the stalkee had recently moved there to start school. Needless to say it was an uber drag, and bored, I decided to document my epic hair and makeup with my crappy webcam.

You might not be able to tell, due to webcam photographic artistry, but this is pretty much the most makeup I have ever worn. While everything else was gorgeous, the lady that applied my makeup slathered me with bronzer that was about three shades too dark, and in all my regular (non-webcam) photos, I look like a barbie doll with the wrong head attached.

I think that I should get extra points for cowardice in this one, since it was my idea to have professional hair and makeup. My friend and I didn't realize that out in Nova Scotia, weddings appear to be a little more... casual. People kept asking us if we were part of the bridal party, since most of the other guests were in jeans. When we got back to our hotel, though, a group of women having a bachelorette party asked for our photo because they were so impressed by our fabulous looks! So we were briefly mini Ontario celebrities in Nova Scotia! It almost made up for the stalker friend and the hurricane.

I am burlesque performer in Columbia Missouri and adore makeup! I hope this backstage photo is of amusement to you.

My name is Becky, Miss Becky Gold. I is a queen, and this pic was taken after surrendering to sheer boredom. I agree with you with my whole heart, baby. These same people taking bare-faced pics are probably wearing full body Spanx on their lower half. We all have our damages...

Here's my glamorous pic! Most care I've taken to put make-up on in a very long time! On my way to my cousin's wedding, where I was going to be giving an offering.

What makes me a cool chicken? That I put my friends first, before any guys, and cherish them, knowing they will always be there!

I am a make-up freak! I love makeup. It's all about being a lady and girl power and putting yourself and your needs first, and making sure a guy treats you in the right way, how you deserve!

I'm a chicken because I just am. I've been married for 10 years and have never had a fight with my husband because I don't want to bring up things that irritate me...because...wait for it...it might hurt his feelings.Oh, and my name is Emily. I was walking through the forest next to the Rio Grande river in that picture. That's all.

I got all dressed up to go out to dinner with my fellow navy wife friend, while our husbands were deployed. Putting on make up does not make me a coward. Putting on make up reminds me that I am a beautiful lady, and that I matter, despite my husband being at sea for more than seven months. Make up is my war paint. My brother is about to marry a girl who doesn't wear make up. So that's another reason I wanted to send you my picture.

As a beauty blogger, how could I NOT enter your "all the makeup" contest?? Taking pictures of myself all dolled up is WHAT I DO...for the sake of my readers, of course. Not at all for vanity, never. Nobody posts pictures online for vanity's sake. Unless they're being BRAVE, that is. Ohhh look how chickenshit I am in my liquid eyeliner and red lipstick!

This is me in my Black Swan Halloween costume.

I got a Jerseylicious makeover (and I also wrote about it for TheGloss's sister site, Crushable.)

This is me New Years Eve 2010, wearing more make-up than I ever do on a normal basis, also did my hair up in some 50's inspired curls. All night my friends were calling my Shanna, from Kristen Wiig's SNL skit. So obviously I continued to talk like her for the rest of the night!

Here I am, just casually lounging, about to head out to a night at the theatre, wearing approximately all the make-up I could cake on my face.

This is the makeup I wore to a Lady Gaga concert in 2010. And, yes, I felt brave.

I am so sick of these self-righteous women proclaiming, "I'm totally Liz Lemon. I'm so low-maintenance. I have more important things in my life than straightening irons and mascara. This bra is held together with tape!" Well you know what? I am Jenna Maroney. I am high-maintenance. I am melodramatic. And this is a picture of my 'drunk in the bathtub' face. Do you like it? (If you say "no" I'll drown myself) I googled The Secret and once all the toxins are out of my system I'm going to start visualizing the shit out of that Michael Kors bag. All good things are coming to me today!

I am one of those people who never leaves the house without makeup. Here is a picture of me wearing blue lipstick and hanging out with my own cleavage. I was doing some make up review thing for my blog, but come on, blue lipstick is like the best thing.

On the left of my face, I'm bare-faced and fresh. And on the right, I'm wearing more make-up than RuPaul. My day-to-day routine is somewhere in the middle.

For the record, my personal opinion on this topic that if we define braving something as enduring something regardless of how scary or unpleasant it may be, going out in public without make-up is definitely a (very small) act of bravery for some people. I'm one of those girls who wears full make-up every day and doesn't feel beautiful without it. I absolutely rely on make-up to make me feel pretty and boost my low self-esteem. I know it's ridiculous, but it truly terrifies me to think of going out completely bare-faced. Just sending in this picture is a little scary! So, if/when I muster up the courage to go sans fard one day, I'll be proud of myself for getting over my psychological dependence on cosmetics and for facing the unrealistic fear I have that everyone's going to be laughing and pointing at me and how ugly I am without make-up.

But don't worry. I don't expect a standing ovation or a monument. A congratulatory tote bag would be nice, though (;

Here I am as Cruella Deville on the subway. Heavy eyebrows, lips and liner made me look like a sluttier version of my Grandma in the 20's. I'm digging it, it's not often I can raise an eye brow or kill a puppy with such ease.

Yet another Halloween, but this time I went with my obsession of dressing like a male celebrity. I'm John Lennon, and I've never looked more like my boyfriend before. Surprisingly it takes a lot of makeup to be a man.

Wow, it would be so brave of me to not have spent ten minutes transforming myself into angry red-lipped lady. Oh wait, not doing that is what I do most of the time. YOUR DEFAULT SETTING IS NOT BRAVE. Either that, or newborn babies are really, really brave.

Oh what a night! My first foray into any type of serious protesting. I, I myself, was going to free animals from a lab, thus saving them from the dismal life of being held captive, being tested on and just plain being treated meanly. I dressed in typical garb for such a thing (think Audrey Hepburn-ninja style) and crept out under the cover of darkness.

Stealithy I made my way to the lab - I am quite sure the cab driver thought a phantom paid for the fare - exhilarated by my do-goodiness. Using methods acquired from years of observing true crime dramas, such as Law & Order, I easily bypassed the locks and security system of the facility. I followed the sounds of sad little creatures and finally came upon the scene. Imagine my bleak disappointment when I discovered that this was no ordinary testing facility!

Instead of testing for pharmaceuticals or even just growing ears on the backs of mice, I had broken into my worst nightmare: a cosmetic testing facility! To my horror I saw rabbits, mice, rats, birds; all manner of creature dolled up with matching masks of make-up!

In an instant my mind was clear. I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath, pocketed my flashlight, backed out of the facility and once again disappeared into the darkness, i.e. - a Yellow Cab. I am pleased with myself for empowering those little fellas. After all, the thing that they need to do is brave-it-up, wipe off that lipstick and learn how to save themselves! I would NEVER want to be accused of contributing to the cowardace of any of God's creatures.

When I got home, I shed the ninja garb, brushed my hair, and slapped on another coat of foundation just for kicks. Then I slid into bed, pleased with my night of building the characters of some very special little critters.

(Just kidding! Annie from Oklahoma).

If going barefaced equates to being brave; I'm surely a wimp. And proud of it. Make-up products used in attached picture: ALL OF THEM. Note the artful placement of the head to catch the air-con breeze in the cab (en route to a birthday party). You will prise my false eyelashes from my cold dead hands.

Today, I applied copious amounts of make up. I was so disgusted by my cowardice I ate all the cupcakes. I couldn't even be ashamed by this. I had already hit rock bottom with the use of 3 different eye shadows.

(Because I'm a coward please don't use my name)

I was spending quality time with my dog, Moosy. Painting his little claws, feeding him unhealthy snacks. He loves when mommy goes all Joan Collins!

(Moosy is also a coward)

I'm just lounging around my swan castle, wearing all the make up and a tiara like the queen that I am. People love the White Swan because she's all pure and brave without her make up. Screw that. I like wearing make up. I like being a glamorous, made up chicken. Or a swan, in this case.

This is from the time that Fox News turned me into a TV slut.

I won't lie. I'm a stereotypical mom now who never lost her baby weight. And it's sad for me. But here's a picture of before I had my daughter that makes me feel a little better. It's also full on make up that I haven't done in forever.

By the way, I haven't foregone make-up because I'm brave or amazing or saving the world. I've stopped using as much make-up because I have to get two people ready in the morning instead of one and that makes me stressed for time.

So there I was, surrounded. I had been exploring the Amazon Rainforest alone in my hand-carved canoe with nary a weapon to protect myself against the bloodthirsty butterflies and man-eating opossums. As I entered further and further into the darkness of the dense vegetation, my confidence started to wane.

Why I wondered? I am a woman of great courage and force of will, who venture into treacherous adventures with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. It was then, I realized I was still wearing a tad of mascara from the fabulous night of drinking and dancing with world dignitaries and rocket scientists the night before. I quickly ripped a strip of fabric from my t-shirt (leaving my fabulous stomach courageous and exposed) and spat on it to allow me to remove the offending substance post haste.

Bolstered from my brave act, I allowed my guard to slip. Soon, I became aware of a multitude of beady eyes staring out from the shadowy shadows. Rabbits, the most vicious of the Amazonian dangers. Before I knew it, they were upon me, noses twitching menacingly. I abandoned my trusty vessel and scampered up the nearest tree to collect my thoughts. It was only once I was safely perched that I noticed I had left all of my supplies in the canoe, along with any hope of my survival. Despairing but resigned to my fate, I noticed that one supply had slipped past my notice. My makeup palette from the night before was still wedged in my underpinnings.

I both cursed and praised my womanly cowardice. I swiftly applied a facsimile of an ocelot's face unto my own, knowing that the ocelot was one of the only things the abominable rodents feared. My plan worked brilliantly as the foul beasts hopped back into the bowels of hell from whence they came. It was then I realized I had been wrong. My bravery was by virtue of my actions and spirit, not my countenance.

My name is Lindsay and this is a picture of myself ridiculously made up. I had fake cheekbones and a sidepart! These are things that are never part of my life. The reason for such Kim Kardashian-ness is that although I have my Master's from a top UK university, I have failed to find employment out of the service industry (read: I haven't really looked/I like strange working hours and getting paid to drink).

Currently, I work at a fancy, speakeasy cocktail bar in Seattle where I was notified to dress up extra nice because one of the bartenders wanted to wear cuff-links. Fair play. I took extra time getting ready hoping that 1. my tips would increase 2. I could use said photo on Facebook for some passive aggressive taunting. This picture didn't even showcase the dress I would end up wearing that literally pushed my boobs to Kardashian proportions. So yeah. I worked in this makeup, and I'm not going to lie, I felt pretty OK with it.

Something interesting about me? When I was traveling through Albania I became the object of desire for a local mobster and he subsequently started stalking me. I had to sneak out of the country. It was weird.

My name is Kristine Rose. I am wearing so much make up because I was playing a porn star in my friend's short film, Mickey Maniac.

This is me, in a moment of pure cosmetic cowardice, just brushing up on my Joan Didion.

This was a ridiculous request. Of course I need my make up! Every day! Without makeup, I wouldn't have a face!