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BY JENNIFER SILVERMAN
Like the rest of the world, I have long believed that beauty is a source of immense power.
I initially came to this conclusion as a child model at age eleven.
I grew more resolute in my stance when I began working for my model agency, booking models in high school.
Finally, a career in fashion reinforced my suspicions for good (or bad).
The first time I wore makeup, I was a seven-year-old flower girl in my cousin’s wedding. I recall my mother lovingly applying red lipstick to my pout a la Coco Chanel. The moment I glanced in the mirror and spotted those red lips, I instantly felt glamourous.
By late high school, makeup became a daily practice.
I suddenly realized that in makeup, I felt like the model I was paid to be – a persona so powerful, it inspired consumers to reflect what they wanted to see in my image.
Of course, once that image was projected on a runway, on TV, or in a print ad, any power that it garnered, if it did, was not mine to harness.
By the time I moved to Manhattan for fashion school, makeup was a must - always.
Looking back, wearing makeup on the regular was a rather ridiculous concept since I resided in NYC - a city of anonymity.
Eventually, makeup became a mask, and the idea of being unmasked in public made me feel extremely vulnerable.
The truth of the matter is that unfortunately, appearance often dictates treatment.
As a TV wardrobe stylist, I confess that being “cute” made my work easier.
Even though I had become a master schlepper out of necessity, it was seldom that a fellow would not offer to carry whatever load I was lugging around.
It's one thing to be aware of the attractive advantages one can cash in; it’s another to assume that unmasked, we’re not worthy.
When I relocated to Florida, I pledged to stop caring so much about my "I don't feel pretty without makeup" hang up.
I was determined to believe that my value was not based on appearance. (I also no longer wanted to devote eons of time and effort to putting my face on.)
In the nearly five years since I left New York, I’ve learned to live with lingering feelings of discomfort on days when I forgo makeup and thereby, feel "unpretty".
When I’m working from home and my only outside activities entail walking Petunia, visiting with neighbors, or running to the post office, I’m almost always activewear-clad and sans-makeup.
(I suspect that if you met me on an activewear day, you’d never imagine that I previously lived a life of frequent dress up.) Lately, I just want to be comfortable – unharnessed power be damned.
This brings me to the UPS Store. While waiting in line recently, I noticed a gorgeously made-up patron and found myself feeling inferior - like I had unwittingly wandered into UPS in my PJ’s. (I was actually donning activewear, but you get the idea.)
Just when I was contemplating wearing sunglasses inside UPS to disguise my unadorned appearance, another customer struck up a conversation with me.
My first thought when he began chatting was, “Why is he talking to me? – I don’t have any makeup on. I’m nothing special today.”
I logically recognize that this kind, friendly stranger could have cared less if I was wearing mascara.
Nonetheless, I went straight back to a negative, unproductive belief system, convinced that I was seen less favorably without my mask.
So, I suppose I’m still trying to find the balance between the vulnerability of being unmasked and the self-assurance felt only when I look a certain way.
One day, I hope to fully accept that the beauty within is far more valuable than the beauty courtesy of Estee Lauder.
This post was an exercise in unmasking myself in a new way...I guess I'm making progress.
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