So now it's time for a continuation of Beauty Blunders by yours truly, Part 2 of our Makeup Mishaps series. Some of these unfortunate events are due to plain old dumb luck. Others had more to do with dumb choices.
For instance, it's completely my fault that I turned into Quasimodo one fateful evening.
I was experimenting with essential oils, having heard much about their Magical Cure All Properties. I had been struggling with an illness -- I'm gonna guess sinus infection because historically that was my main nemesis. My kind friend Sheena lent me some of her essential oils to help me get over it.
One warning her husband gave me, when delivering the oils, which I did not fully appreciate at the time, was "Hey, don't get the oregano in your eye." Well, duh. Why would I put oregano in my eye, for heaven's sake?
Except somehow it got on my fingers. And then I rubbed my left eye. And then all heck broke loose.
It hurt. It mushroomed and swelled up like Quasimodo's eye. It was red and tender and huge and spectacularly noticeable. And it successfully completely distracted me from my illness. Because hey, what's a sinus infection compared to walking around looking like an animated character? My kids were greatly entertained and noticeably impressed. (In fact, "Remember That Time Mom Put Oregano In Her Eye?" still comes up quite frequently.)
Fortunately, by the next day, my eye was still raw and dark pink, but the swelling had gone down and my eye was no longer on the verge of bursting from its socket. Narrowly escaping being awarded Best Halloween Disguise in the middle of springtime.
However, I had a bout with Bell's Palsy that was not as short-lived nor as humorous. I awoke one day feeling like part of my face was numb. I had been fighting a - yep - sinus infection. So I thought the infection was extending from my sinus cavities into my face. I took some decongestant and soldiered on through the day.
Until midafternoon, when I was chatting briefly with my neighbor and good pal Emily. Emily is quite blunt. I adore Emily. She said, "What in the WORLD is wrong with your face, Christy?" (Never a good thing to be asked, by the way.) I told her my hypothesis and brushed it off, and she said, "Ummmm. I think not. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
(Sidenote: Why do people keep asking me that?)
The answer was, of course, NO.
So I went inside and looked in the mirror, and my face was sagging as if I had suffered a stroke. It was quite terrifying.
Fortunately, it was Bell's Palsy and not a stroke. I wish I could make jokes about Bell's Palsy, but I can't. It was scary and freaky and humbling. I learned that I have a lot more vanity than I realized, and that my desire to interact with the human race was negatively impacted by my insecurity over how "deformed" I felt. It's easy to joke about being an animated character when that look only lasts 12 hours. When the outcome and the recovery is uncertain, it is much more troubling.
I also learned that eating from a spoon or using a straw without drooling and dribbling were amazing skills I've taken for granted since I had mastered them at 18 months old.
I realized that my sagging mouth was much less noticeable if I didn't smile. So I tried determinedly, when I was required to be in public, to Not Smile at People. But it quickly became apparent that my basic instinct is to be a Smiler. Even when I am worried.
There are worse things, I know. But it was funny how hard I worked to master the "I'm-not-mad-at-you-although-I'm-not-smiling" Pleasantly Somber expression. I never did quite get it down.
Fortunately, my Bell's Palsy gradually got better within about 2 weeks. I was one of the lucky ones. I know it doesn't work that way for many. It can last a long time or it can come back from time to time. Blessedly, that has not been the case for me.
Full vulnerability disclosure here. I have never felt particularly pretty. I am, and have been, surrounded by so many gorgeous women - friends, family, roommates, etc. But I was always more of the Buddy type. Not hideous, but nothing to garner a second glance. I also never felt I was particularly wrapped up in my appearance. After all, people have to remind me to look in mirrors. But here's the thing. Bell's Palsy did impact my confidence. It squashed my desire to be around people. It turned me INWARD, worrying about what people were thinking, instead of OUTWARD, listening and loving and supporting others. Was it vanity? The effects of internalizing societal messages about beauty and worth? I am not sure. But it was sobering to realize how much it impacted my interactions with others.
A much less traumatic and introspection-generating Face Fail happened a year or two ago. I made the foolish mistake of purchasing some glittery eye shadow. My daughters Aerin and Annie occasionally wear a copperish glittery shadow, and it looks really nice on their tan skin, and is suitably subtle. So I thought I would try, although we have completely different skin tones. (Fun Fact: Ogden Family DNA is very dominant. Which I think is a great thing.)
The girl at the Avon shop recommended the shadow, but added the disclaimer that it could get pretty glittery. She said that she had found, ironically, that the more shadow she applied, the more it became about color and not just glitter. She also said the more you rubbed the shadow to blend it, the more glittery it became.
So the fact that the Avon girl felt she needed to give me a few tips probably should have "tipped" me off that this product was not for a makeup novice like me. But I didn't grasp that.
Until the fine Sunday morning I decided to try it.
It didn't go well.
There was glitter everywhere. So I applied more shadow. And then more. But rather than subduing things, it just seemed to spread the glitter, amoeba-like, across my face. Glitter was on my forehead. On my cheeks. Above and under my eyes. Everywhere. It was a disaster.
So I called it. I scrubbed my face with soap and water for a total makeup redo, without the glitter eyeshadow. But even with washing my face, the glitter didn't come off.
Anyone who has ever made the irreversible choice of allowing glitter in their house - be it a craft project, a valentine, a non-Quasimodo Halloween costume, or whatever - realizes the Incredible Staying Power of Glitter.
I've decided glitter is the cockroach of makeup. It quickly multiplies, and Just. Won't. Die.
So on that fateful Glitter Sunday, I took a washcloth to my face a second time. And then gave up, because I was going to be late for church.
"It's not that noticeable," Chad lied.
The first friend I saw greeted me with, "My, aren't you (pause) 'sparkly' today?"
Yes, yes I am. Thanks for noticing.
To make matters worse, Chad & I were substitute teachers for the 16-18 yr old Sunday School class that day. Which is the greatest class in the world to teach, but they weren't about to let me get away without mentioning my glitter bomb makeup.
"What's with all the glitter?" one girl asked. I sheepishly tried to explain, then just kind of trailed off, ending by lamely blaming the Avon store lady for telling me to put more shadow on for less glitter.
"It was too glittery, so you put MORE on?" the girl asked, completely baffled. "WHY would you do that?" I feebly tried to answer. But she was just so puzzled, she kept asking, "But I don't get it. WHY would you put more on?"
Because I'm an idiot, Olivia. That's why.
I came home and washed my face again, and here is what it looked like after 3 different washings.
Glitter 1, Christy 0.
Perhaps you are like my daughters and can pull of glittery eyeshadow without looking like you lost a fight with a preschool Valentines Day project. But I learned, without question, that I do not possess that skill.
So here are my Beauty Tips for today:
#1 Don't put oregano in your eye. Ever. (Unless you are aspiring to win the office Halloween costume contest.)
#2 Stay far away from glitter makeup. (Even if you're aspiring to win the office Halloween costume contest.)
#3 If you get Bell's Palsy, just go ahead and smile.
