After a long time of contemplation I have finally arrived at a bodily intervention which has fascinated and revolted me since I can remember: excessive make-up and the story it tells.
When I was in grade 6 my mom sent me to a finishing school which was hosted in the gymnasium of the high school just up the road from my primary school. I will never forget the first day when the 6 of us from primary school walked into the room where the teacher and high school girls were waiting for us. The first thing I noticed was the fact that the girls all had either very matted or shiny faces that looked completely unnatural. Foundation that I could imagine scraping off with a teaspoon. At eleven years of age, I decided that make-up was bad. Only performing artists and moms were supposed to wear it.
Tomorrow I will embark on a 10-day journey of wearing excessive make-up. Not just the high school girl 'pore-clogging' make-up, but also cultural, sub-cultural, religious, era-based and occasion make-up. Over and above the unattractive thought of heavy make-up that will make my skin feel terrible clogged, I am excited to experience this as I want to know how people would treat me, in Cape Town, in the year 2010, with a 19th century clown or a Geisha's face.
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