My maid of honor, Ashley, suggested that I wear makeup at my wedding. I reacted violently.
I remember one night watching an episode of Cheers, where Frasier and Lilith are getting married. Lilith, like me, never wears makeup. The specific clip I remember is of her all gussied up and feeling uncomfortable and fake. Frasier comes in and tells her how beautiful she looks, how she ought to get dolled up like that more often. He walks out, convinced he has given her a great compliment, but she is heartbroken. Because the made-up version of her is not her at all, but it's apparently what her husband would prefer.
I thought about that clip and I told Ashley that she could bring some makeup with her when she came to see me the weekend before the wedding. We could play beauty parlor, and if I hated it, I didn't have to wear it. Sensing weakness, she suggested I could get contacts, too.
I told Josh that Ashley wanted me to wear makeup. He reacted violently.
Thursday evening, I went to the Dollar Tree to find a flower girl basket, some hot glue sticks, and cheap serving utensils. I wandered through their beauty aisle, where they had boxes and boxes of knockoff perfumes. I don't own any perfume. I have a bottle of fruity body spray that someone gave me four years ago. I've used about half of it, usually on special occasions when I want to smell a little like a fancy margarita. I thought it might be nice to smell more womanly on my wedding day, although really, I always smell womanly, if by womanly you mean the actual smell of a woman rather than the artificial odors sold commercially to cover up actual woman smell. I opened up boxes of perfumes, sprayed the boxes and then sniffed them. After half a dozen bottles, I got tired of furtively spritzing, so I picked the Halle Berry knockoff. It smelled like flowers, which was much better than Jennifer Aniston, who smelled like laundry. Clean laundry, but laundry nonetheless. I was indecisive. Sure, it's a nice smell, but do I want that smell to waft about in my wake?
Later that night, I tried it out on Josh. He complained about the women that work in his restaurant who come in smelling like overripe fruit. But he said the Halle Berry was good. So at least we agree that I should smell like flowers and not fruit.
Saturday night, Carney read from a book of wedding tips that I should make sure and not wear sunscreen. I laughed. No, she said, really. It'll make your face look shiny. Why would I be wearing sunscreen when I'm going to be inside all day?, I asked. She said that a lot of lotions have sunscreen in them. I never put lotion on my face, I told her. She and Ashley said they both put lotion on their faces every day. Where did they learn to do this? Did I miss a class? Carney said that I had really nice skin, and Ashely said it was probably because I never put crap on it. I realized that I had never before considered whether or not my skin was nice.
They made fun of my dollar store perfume. The joke will be on them when Halle Berry shows up and they can't tell the difference between us in a blind sniff test.
Sunday afternoon, I sat on my bathroom counter while Ashley put crap on it. She showed me a palette of colors and asked what I liked, but I had no idea, so she just picked what she thought would work. It was like when I give Josh a haircut and he looks at it every two seconds and complains. I haven't worn makeup in more than a decade. It's lighter than I remember; I couldn't feel it at all. I couldn't really tell I was even wearing it, which made me wonder what I looked like before. She did powder and eyeliner and mascara, but we both agreed that the latter was right out. She didn't feel confident putting it on me, and I definitely do not feel confident applying it myself. Also, I looked too made-up, like not me. We talked about lip gloss, because even though you apparently don't want a shiny face on your wedding day, shiny lips are a must. She had clear lip gloss and tinted lip gloss, but I said that my lips already had a nice color. I'd never considered the color of my lips before, but she didn't disagree, so I guess it's okay. She offered to pluck my eyebrows, but I said I'd do that myself.
Josh came up and couldn't tell that I was wearing makeup, so that's good, I guess. Or bad. At least he's not telling me it should be my new look.
I'm still wearing my glasses. I'll smell nice and have shiny lips, but I'll still look like me.