Lately, I’ve been hearing middle aged women rave about B&B cream. Lightweight, skin tone evening, dark circle hiding, not foundation-looking.
I’ve never worn foundation. A redhead, my complexion is not easily matched to ready mixed foundations, and I don’t like the feel of it.
I don’t like the feel of sunblock on my face, either. It migrates into my eyes, causing burning and tears. (The only brand I use on my face is Neutrogena.)
B&B cream, though, was described to me as being more like lotion. I do like lotion. My favorite is Aveeno; I slather it on with gusto. If B&B felt like lotion, but lotion that improves my complexion, what would there be not to love about that?
The other thing I’ve been hearing about lately is G+ video meetings and vlogging. Ignoring the fact that I do not even know how to turn on my computer’s camera, I’ve been wondering if I should give this a try. Is this the new, big thing? Would it be fun?
The connection here is that everyone advises looking professional on camera, and that requires make-up. Everyone agrees on this. Bare faces are only professional if you are a man. Women need to use cosmetics to be taken seriously.
So I bought B&B cream at Target and tried it out.
First, I did half my face to see if there was a difference. I carried a mirror around the house to look at myself in different lighting. I could not see a big difference, but the darkness under my eye might have been slightly diminished. I went ahead and applied it to the other half of my face.
I was planning to see if anyone in my family noticed a difference in my appearance when they came home.
When I sat down with my book, I realized that I felt exactly like I was wearing thick sunblock. The brand I bought was not labeled as containing sunblock so I toughed it out for five whole minutes, then washed my face.
It still felt like it had a coating of SPF 1000, so I washed again, and applied more of my beloved Aveeno.
My face still felt oddly chalky, but I didn’t want to wash more than three times in one hour, so I decided to live with it. Within a half hour my right eye started watering profusely as if I’d applied sunblock.
By that point, I was berating myself for being drawn in by promises of beauty in a drugstore tube, and googling for homemade make-up removal solutions. Too impatient to read with only one eye, I decided to wash my face with olive oil.
That seemed to dissolve most of what was on my face, but I couldn’t put my glasses back on my oil slicked face, so I had to wash it off. It took two washings, so I ended up washing my face five times yesterday morning.
I put the Aveeno on extra thick to compensate for all that soap.
I am now going to return to not worrying about my unprofessional, natural appearance. The world will have to deal with seeing my imperfect complexion. Or avert its eyes. Or roll them.
Knowing full well that this sounds like, and might be, sour grapes speaking, why does looking professional for a woman require make-up and heels? What is professional about discomfort and disguise?
Nobody suggests that men camouflage their figure flaws or highlight their eyes for job interviews. Or do they?