The coronavirus crisis has a way of stripping us of our ability to access our most basic coping mechanisms, while simultaneously giving us a lot we need to cope with. I feel like I’m stuck between a vaccine and a hard place.
What would I do if I was having a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day, pre-COVID? I would go to the theatre (can’t do that anymore), or go read my book in a dark bar somewhere (can’t do that either), or go see family (can’t do that unless I’m very, very careful). It sucks knowing what could comfort you and not having access to it, to state something incredibly obvious that we’ve all had to deal with in some form for months.
One of my many COVID-cancelled coping mechanisms is doing my makeup. Sure, if I’m in the mood to do a full face, I could always just hang around at home afterward and post selfies, or I could focus on eyeshadow, eyeliner, and eyebrows to make sure my look is visible even when my mask is on. Early in quarantine, I even bought some colorful new MAC eyeshadows to tide me over until anyone outside my bubble could admire my lipstick again.
But it just didn’t feel like enough. Eyeshadow is time-consuming – all that blending takes me ages! – and the effect ultimately just isn’t as starkly glamorous as a bold red lip. It’s also not as versatile – I firmly believe bright lipstick can be a great addition to any outfit, while elaborate eyeshadow looks have a way of seeming over-the-top and out of place in daytime or casual contexts (at least, that’s what I think). Far too often during quarantine, craving a cosmetic pick-me-up but lacking enough time or emotional wherewithal to prime my eyelids and carefully blend several different shades of eyeshadow for 10-15 minutes, I would just give up, throw on my mask over my bare face, and call it a day.
Of course, as I’m sure you know if makeup is a central part of your self-presentation like it is for me, it can feel pretty shitty to have to be out in the world when your outsides are out of step with your insides. (Obviously lots of other kinds of people experience variations of this feeling, including trans people. If I’m whining about not being able to wear lipstick visibly in public, I literally can’t imagine how awful gender dysphoria must be.) At grocery stores, liquor stores, and the bank, I’d find myself wanting to tell everyone – in the immortal words of Mary Tyler Moore – “I usually look so much better than this!!”
However, then I discovered the wonders of false eyelashes. After shying away from them for years because of how difficult and annoying it seemed to wear and apply them, I finally decided to take the leap. I ordered a couple of inexpensive Sephora-brand pairs of lashes, some lash glue, and a tweezers-esque lash applicator. When they arrived, I watched some of my favorite beauty YouTubers’ instructional videos on applying falsies, and gave it a shot.
I’m not gonna lie: it is difficult. It’s one of the fiddliest, most intricate skills I’ve ever had to learn in my decade+ of doing my own makeup – although I suppose I probably felt that way about winged eyeliner and eyeshadow application a few years back. With lashes, though, there’s the added pressure of time – you only have a limited window between when the lash glue gets tacky enough to stick to your lids and when it’s dried too much to allow for adjustments. It’s like a nervewracking game from some high-pressure high-femme game show that should definitely exist if it doesn’t already.
But once I got the hang of it, I was immediately in love. False eyelashes completely transform your face. They can make you feel like a glamorous alien in one fell swoop. I always feel like a cartoon character in mine, batting my eyes flirtatiously at anyone (or no one) without even meaning to, like a queer tattooed Jessica Rabbit.
Best of all, lashes are just as impactful when you’re wearing a mask. In fact, they might even be moreso, because when you’re talking to someone who has a mask on, their eyes are kind of the only thing you can look at. And while it does take a few minutes to put them on, I’m getting faster at it each time I practice, and it doesn’t require a plethora of different products like eyeshadow does. I don’t even necessarily need the fancy tool I bought – more often than not, I use my fingers instead, especially as I’ve gotten more confident with the placement.
Lashes are truly one of the fastest, easiest ways to feel like a complete glamourpuss. On the first day I wore them, I was sporting a casual T-shirt and lounge pants, with no makeup on my face – and when I had to answer the door for a mail delivery, I wasn’t even embarrassed to be seen like that, as I normally might have been. My lashes made me seem like I had put effort into my look, even though I barely had. They are exactly the flashy femme self-care tool I was looking for.
I’m not saying false eyelashes are right for everyone. They’re challenging and cumbersome and often very weird. But I’m so glad I took a chance on them, after believing I would be hopelessly inept at using them. Like so many fashion and beauty risks I’ve taken over the years, I had no idea how amazing they would make me feel until I gathered the courage to put them on.