There are definitely perks to being the oldest, just like there are perks to being the middle child or the youngest. But mostly, I think I've rolled out the red carpet for my three little sisters--they get to watch me stumble through life and know exactly what not to do!
Take my clueless first fling with makeup, for example. When I turned 14 and was finally allowed to wear makeup, I was ready and armed with eyeliner, mascara and blush. On the dawn of my long-awaited birthday, I took my beauty markers and played face artist. I glopped the mascara goo on generously, even after hearing the appalling rumor that mascara's ingredients included bat droppings. (It takes pain to be beautiful, gasp!) And then I proceeded to tar my eyelashes unsparingly, lovingly stroking the top lashes and then going equally crazy on the bottom lashes.
I was all ears at school when a beautiful and bosomly classmate told me that if your lashes clumped, to separate them with a needle. (This same girl also copied my homework once, even writing my name at the top of her paper; I should never have trusted her!) But no matter the ditzy source, after using lots of eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes look like double targets on a dart board, I went to work with a needle.
Hell-o! That is just crazy and I'm happy to report that I no longer put needles to my eyeballs.
It was no use that our mom rarely wore makeup because she's one of those naturally gorgeous types. Yet, while she didn't know much about makeup, after watching me, she also quickly learned what not to do. The ashy smudges beneath my eyes were of serious torment to her, and after some desperate motherly pleas, I finally listened and stopped putting eyeliner and mascara on my bottom lashes-- a piece of priceless makeup advice I still follow! (Thanks, Mom!)
Oh, and I can't forget the blush! I have a long criminal record of over-applying. For a long time, I had this obsession with the color of my eyes, wishing they were more hazel green rather than hazel brown. My eye color has changed over the years, getting greener with time (yay!), but when I was younger, an overdose of blush seemed to bring out the emerald. There are many high school photos of me looking rosie-cheeked and clownish, ... which I can't seem to find right now, darn. I fear I still get a bit carried away in this department. (Watch and learn, girls. Watch and learn.)
So, when I see my sisters growing up with such style and grace, I'm initially jealous (humph), but then a little pride seeps in. It's all thanks to me, I think. :)
Xo/xo, Marie
PPS. Don't you think I deserve to hear all your tried and true makeup secrets? Go ahead, hook a sister up!
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