For the last week, I’ve not worn a scrap of makeup. No concealer, no mascara, not even a slick of lip balm. Nothing.
“’Cause I don’t want to cover up anymore. Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing,” she wrote in Lenny Letter.
Keys at the VMAs last week. Image: Getty
Her own empowerment from ditching makeup inspired a #NoMakeupMovement and curious to feel it for myself, I decided to join in as a personal experiment.
The outcome couldn't have been more surprising.
Seven days of nothing but a bare face and all I gained was a pimple, dull skin and a renewed love for my cosmetics bag. No surge of self-love, no fist-pumping moment of empowerment. Alicia, what happened? (Post continues after gallery.)
Let me be clear about one thing - not that I should have to explain myself. My desire to wear makeup isn't to do with low self-esteem, wanting to hide behind a mask of foundation or impress other people. Like 98 per cent of people who choose to wear makeup, I do so because I like it.
I enjoy the ritual of putting it on to go out (admittedly less so at 6am on a Monday morning), the creativity of trying new looks and the way my eyes are accentuated with a flick of winged liner.