WHEN I WAS A YOUNG UPSTART, I often railed to my peers about the old women in my office—women over 40—who were hogging management and supervisory positions. They would never retire, I feared. As it commonly is, their appearances, which could probably be best described as non-current, were an easy target. They dressed like old ladies, for Pete’s sake!
One day recently, in a rush to get to work, I left the house without wearing mascara. Me, a woman in my (very) late 40s. While this may seem no big deal to many folks, it’s unusual for me. My daily hair and makeup routine is simple, really—shampoo, blow dry, foundation, mascara, lipstick. It’s nothing spectacular. All in all, it’s about 15-20 minutes of work, at the most; however, I rarely skip it.
I have come to admire and envy women who come to the office without makeup. The last time I was comfortable enough to walk through life without makeup, I think I was 12, or so. The main issue is not self-confidence; no one has ever accused me of not having enough of that. The running commentary from co-workers is what gets to me.
I don’t know why we women are so judgmental about it.
Somehow remarks about my appearance—hair, makeup, clothes—have always made me speechless. I’ve never had a terrific comeback for someone who criticizes how I look. And frankly, I don’t know why we women are so judgemental about it. It’s so retro.
By pointing out the flaws in others, particularly the way they present themselves, we can push our self-esteem up while pushing down the general opinion of others.
Back in the day, heels and skirts and blouses were de rigueur, coiffed hair and full makeup was part and parcel of standard office attire. The practice likely dates back to the days when office workers—secretaries, really—worked only long enough to find themselves husbands. Critical appraisals of others helped our self-confidence, and thus we projected the image we needed to snag a man. Really?
Office attire has loosened its grip and, in 25 years, I, too, continue to loosen my dress standards.
Let’s be clear. It’s not as if I’m slovenly. My hair is clean, styled easily, and my makeup is minimal. Now, more than in my 20s, as I near 50, I understand the depth and value of a person is measured in many ways, and attractiveness (or lack of it) is not one of them. But, if the rules of pre-feminism era to which many women and men still grip tightly, I would remain per-occupied with my looks as I age. Yet, the opposite is true.
In the past, in a situation like this, sans mascara, I would make an emergency stop at a drug store, but as the day wore on, I’d forgotten about it. And when I was reminded by looking in the bathroom mirror, I wasn’t bothered by the bareness of my eye lashes. It seemed that I had less insecurity working with men, than I did with women.
I don’t care, I don’t have to look at me.
In a position previous to my current one, I worked with seven woman aged 25-45 and I recall how their appraising eyes would sweep the length of my body, depending on the condition of my decidedly casual appearance, which would be followed by unsolicited, and I felt, unwarranted advice. I used tell co-workers that I didn’t mind looking the way I do: “I don’t have to look at me,” I’d half-jokingly say.
So, what’s remarkable about the particular day in which I was essentially makeup free (lipstick never lasts beyond a cup of morning tea) that because I work in an IT help desk group, the workforce is primarily made up of men. I can’t remember the last time a man remarked on the length of my undyed roots, or the style of shoes that I wear, or the mildly out of date blouse.
Of course, there’s a downside. There is a clear-cut lack of on-going and pointless conversation, but I’ll take that over criticism any day.