My boyfriend does my make-up. Gulp.

May 18, 2016

It’s bank holiday in Spain and my boyfriend, Bobby, and I decide to take a five kilometre walk to the nearest open supermarket. Bob doesn’t care very much for walks without purpose, so is pretty annoyed when we arrive and Carrefour is closed. We arrive home tired and irritated, thanks to the May heat (not complaining about this one) and in need of something fun to do. I go to the place most girls wouldn’t- I let my boyfriend do my make-up.

Bob doesn’t really understand my love for cosmetics, nor the quantity adorning my bathroom sideboard. It soon transpires that he doesn’t really understand what products go where either, but we’ll get to that later. He’s an artistic guy, so I’m quite excited to see the final result. With enough make-up and (semi-clean) brushes to open a small Boots store, he sets off working.

I offer to separate the products into categories to help him/me out but he declines; if he’s going to do it, he’s going to do it alone. He’s a sassy, independent artiste that doesn’t need no help. This act lasts until it comes to choosing a product to start with and he’s stumped. “Primer is sealant, right? At least that’s what paint primer is!”. He’s not far wrong really (except that my face isn’t a wall or anything like that.) He spreads a nice healthy layer of primer across my face, in the same fashion as my Mum would butter her bread. I think I can expect the full coverage look.

I’m under strict orders not to look in a mirror, so his constant howls of laughter and frustrated expressions are a concern for me. He’s taking the photos too, telling me where to look and how to pose. “MMM honey, you look like a supermodel!” he tells me at one point. He wasn’t even being sarcastic, so god only knows what he thinks about my usual face of makeup. Looking back at the photos, I’m really not sure which poor supermodel he was referring to and I don't really want to find out.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting a job that would leave Lisa Elridge quaking in her boots; the man has never picked up a contour palette in his life. I didn’t expect either, for him to suddenly adapt ambidexterity when it came to applying and blending eye-shadow. “You’re a rock chick!” he tells me at one point. Ten minutes later, I’m “a hooker”. In hindsight, I think that was probably the point in which he realised his colour palette was a bit out there.

My thoughts? Well, I’m not sure I would have ever matched purple and brown eyeshadow with MAC’s Lady Danger and I still stand by this. On the other hand, I was impressed when he told me he wanted to do a smoky eye, and he kind of did- albeit a nice messy, unblended one. The base however, wasn’t actually that bad and his contour was quite impressive. I understand if you can’t get past his colour palette- I couldn’t for a while, either.

They say a picture can tell a thousand words so I’ll let his photography do a lot of the talking. This whole experiment did teach us a few things; for Bobby, he told me that he had so much more respect for women who do their make-up everyday, and he had developed a new understanding of why people watch make-up tutorials. For me, I learnt that my boyfriend is like an enthusiastic toddler around colourful products and that you can’t blend with a brush in each hand.
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