Here For A Good Wear, Not A Long-wear

We used to STRUGGLE for beauty!

I wrote this piece for Airmail Look last month after receiving a mailer for a “polished grunge” Bobbi Brown collection. The set included a double-ended kohl crayon and their shimmery cream eyeshadow stick in complementary shades to create a shimmery, smoky eye. There was a tinted lip & cheek stain, and a wet-look highlighter balm. How fun! How so like what I wore 15ish years ago in the height of NYC’s indie sleaze carnival. And after wearing them and finding how elegant the formulations were and how good they wore, the part of my brain that’s particularly talented at throwing a veil of melancholy and wistfulness on just about any stimuli thought, “damn, the things I did for this look — we really used to struggle for beauty.” Is makeup too good now? Of course not. But the rituals of getting ready are often how we form a reverence for beauty and how we live through it — not just as we see it. Which, if you know me, I huff that shit.

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Old man yells at Cloud Paint

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So many of my foundational beauty memories bloomed in the twilight hours in friends’ bedrooms, getting ready to go out. In our wake, there was the smell of hair barbecuing on heat-styling tools, humid clouds of perfume and hair spray, and makeup scattered across beds and bathrooms as we jockeyed for mirror space.

This is where I learned how to soften an eyeliner pencil by flicking it through a flame before application, how to remove the security tag from a French Connection studded tee, and what the cool makeup brands were. (MAC! Urban Decay! Stila!) Black eyeliner was my Excalibur at the time. (Still kind of is.)

Grungy, moody eyeliner was a staple of my makeup wardrobe in my 20s. It’s like the bratty younger sibling to the smoky eye and the best way to hang a Do Not Disturb sign on your face. I’d scrape my waterlines with Wet ’n’ Wild’s 99-cent pencil as a teen before graduating to Guerlain’s kohl powder, which I dragged theatrically between my closed lids with the stick applicator. My makeup tools were Q-tips, tears, and my fingers. Good makeup can be bought or it can be strategized.

I remember reading an Into the Gloss interview with model Jacquelyn Jablonski, who said that she created her smoky eye by putting on eyeliner, showering, and letting it run into the lash line, so I did that. A makeup artist told me that the key to finishing a messy-eye-makeup look was a dab of clear MAC Lipglass and five minutes. In an era dominated by no-makeup makeup, I remained yes-makeup makeup.

The world is moving slowly back to glam territory. It may have started with Euphoria and its ocular embellishments. Pushing us further were Pat McGrath’s viral porcelain-doll makeup look last February for the Maison Margiela show, and Chappell Roan’s operatic glam as the second coming of Gaga. Sometimes the best makeup looks a bit rough around the edges. (French-girl beauty calls this “lived in.”)

Early Gaga was all over the LES in this specific wig.

I was thrilled when I saw Bobbi Brown’s Polished Grunge collection. It’s not exactly the brand you’d expect to embrace the word “grunge.” It feels like a time capsule of the makeup I wore throughout college in the thick of N.Y.C.’s indie-sleaze scene: heavy, smudgy liner, sheeny cheeks, and lightly stained lips. My highlighter at the time was courtesy of dance-floor sweat, my lip stain was whatever pigment clung to my mouth post-makeout, and my eye makeup was a whole routine of putting it on just to destroy it to my liking.

My smoky-eye artillery has come a long way since those spit-smudging days. Lisa Eldridge’s Gel Eye Pencils glide like butter across my lids, and the eyeliner stays put. Stila’s liquid eyeshadows could sparkle through an Ironman triathlon. And these Polished Grunge Bobbi Brown kohl liners do not budge for 12 hours straight, to my shock. This isn’t a product flaw. Most people, unlike me, want their makeup to look the way it did when they applied it.

Leigh Lezark was the reigning queen of indie sleaze.

Despite cosmetic innovation, smudging and creasing still entice me. I suppose had Bobbi Brown not labeled the collection “grunge,” my poseur alarm wouldn’t have been triggered. Grunge is an art and a ritual that’s constructed as much by hand as by the mercy of the elements. (The elements being the social calendar of my youth.) I never thought I’d be asking this, but … is makeup too good now?

Beauty requires a bit of friction to be interesting. The excitement comes from the tension between the pristine product and human interaction. Beauty is a constant opportunity for connection, even if it’s just to tell your friend she has lipstick on her teeth. The camaraderie you find with strangers in a club’s ladies’ room—or with dorm mates in your hall—makes it a sacred space (a germy one, but still). It puts the touch in touch-ups.

We have excellent long-wear eyeliners now, and I’m grateful for them, don’t get me wrong. I have far fewer obstacles to punctuality. But I miss the leisurely dedication to these beauty rituals. I never thought I’d be nostalgic for keeping a lighter in my makeup bag. Perfectly (artfully, lovingly) messy eye makeup is a performance, not just a product. The best way to wear it is to live through it.