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As a child, I was told by adults that I looked better with my hair tied. I disagreed. I was used to receiving compliments about my hair, so I wanted to let it loose- in my opinion, that made me prettier. But “better” according to these adults did not mean prettier. It meant I looked more sensible with my hair tied, because I was not fussing over my looks and was instead focusing on studying, which was what really mattered. These adults were among a group of self-proclaimed feminists who believed a woman should stop caring about her looks to be truly feminist.
Yet, what I have come to understand is that feminism is inclusive of all that liberates and empowers women, including beauty, regardless of how one defines it. Idealism cannot be thrust upon someone. Whenever there is a question of “should,” there is a burden. In order to convert the “should” into “will,” idealism needs to knock gently on one’s door, and be prepared to be either accepted or rejected.
According to the adults I mentioned previously, taking care of my looks, or applying makeup, was catering to the male gaze. That thought, I believe, is by itself quite presumptuous.
For the longest time, women have been schooled on what to wear, how to sit, talk, walk, and behave. We have been taught how to be desirable to the male gaze, and yes, in many occasions, makeup has been construed a part of that attractiveness quotient. Kohl-laden eyes with long hair and a slender figure has been among the most popular and sexualised images for a woman. But to reduce our desire to care about our appearance as a mechanism to appease males is to belittle the many ways we express ourselves through our appearance. To ridicule us and force idealism such as this does not advance freedom but limits it in yet another way in an already 2 divided world. And this is especially harmful during adolescence, when we are constantly finding ways of self-expression and attempting to understand our identity.
To me, my appearance is my expression. I dress and wear makeup according to my mood. I do it even more so now because I was not allowed to do it earlier. When I was a child, I loved painting, so colours fascinated me. This is not true just for me, but also for those who use makeup to understand how they identify, and what aspects of their personality stand out. Men who wear makeup have been told “you look like a woman,” made out to sound like an insult. Many experimenting with darker shades of makeup have been told “you look like a whore” which is extremely derogatory for sex workers as well, not to mention outright disrespectful and dismissive of all that they have to put up with. Additionally, it brands female sexuality as shameful, which furthers the idea that it is shameful for a woman to want sex.
Makeup has helped express many people what gender or sexuality they identify with or if they do not identify with anything at all. Simplistic arguments such as “makeup is a tool to impress men” fail to consider the more complex nuances of makeup, especially in a world that needs to be more accepting of men wearing makeup too.
Adolescence is a turbulent time for a lot of us. Many of us struggle to understand ourselves and underestimate mental health problems we may be facing because adults around us do not take it seriously. Many of us are at sea about our ideologies and tend to be impressionable people, and oftentimes we give certain adults the power to tell us how to behave and what to believe in. In Indian culture “listening to your elders” is an idea everybody is familiar with, and as children we are actively discouraged from standing up to authority figures. As adults - primarily parents and teachers- who partake in helping navigate adolescence it is imperative to 3 be sensitive to the needs of an adolescent. Snatching away the power to express and moulding them into a vision will not do it.
I do not condone how certain makeup brands advertise makeup products, especially products that supposedly make people more fair-skinned by feeding into insecurities built by society. I do not condone being held to one particular beauty standard that demands only fair skin, straight hair, and an hourglass figure with a “no-makeup makeup” look. Instead, I think that since there are so many different variations of beauty, we all can use makeup to enhance our look if we prefer to.
It is completely alright to decide not to wear makeup. But if one truly does not like makeup and is secure in their decision, they will not feel the need to degrade those who do. The degrading, as far as I have seen, comes out of repressed desire which leads to a judgmental outlook. The adults who told me to keep my hair tied and asked me to not wear makeup had nail polish on their nails and kohl in their eyes, but one of them said, and I quote, “Kohl is not makeup.”
Ironically, many who comment on the necessity to be more fair-skinned are also against makeup, because according to them, “simplicity is best.” Many of my friends in school who proudly proclaimed that they do not like makeup secretly harboured a desire to do so, because they wore makeup when we met outside of school and even more so when we moved out of school into the more liberating space of colleges far away from home where we were unsupervised by the adults who had convinced us we do not like makeup.
I urge us to do better as a society– for women to be kinder to each other, to not shame one another for being “too girly” or “too tomboyish” and for us to be kinder to all genders without subjecting anyone to ridicule. Though a very long shot, things are gradually getting better. Shaming other people into something seldom achieves any meaningful impact. It is always love that leaves a mark, so let us be loving and patient towards each other’s choices.
Ipsita is a writer who likes coffee, good food, and good company. She has previously written for Usawa Literary Review, The Hindu, and The News Minute. This article is a part of our ongoing series Dissent Dispatch, in collaboration with Usawa Literary Review.