THE LAST WORD
What To Say To Our Daughters
About Makeup And Beauty
By Kathryn Streeter
M y friend’s daughter is perched on my barstool, a
beautiful 12-year-old going on 17. She is attending a
dance soon. Would I do a trial makeover? With her mom’s
consent, I apply loose powder, neutral tones on her lids and
mascara. To complete her look, she chooses pale pink for
her lips. She is thrilled because she normally isn’t allowed to
wear makeup.

Though I have a 17-year-old daughter, this experience is
new for me. Usually, my girl doesn’t wear any makeup,
except once to attend her senior prom, where her girlfriends
did makeup with her. Time together with the young lady
in front of me confirms she’s wired differently than my
daughter. My friend’s daughter is pining to grow up and
feels this magical powdery, gooey stuff called makeup will
help her get there.

We chat about makeup as I pull out items from my little bag.

In response, she presents — ta-da! — her makeup bag,
laying out across the kitchen bar with unfamiliar bottles,
powders, liners, mascaras and a gorgeous line of brushes.

These products, some unused, are in pristine condition
because they comprise a hope chest of sorts. She is amassing
her arsenal for when her parents let her wear makeup, a
date I’m betting is marked on her calendar. The packaging
itself oozes pink and girly, a picture of playful, if edgy,
femininity. I feel age encircling me as this candid girl
unleashes every ounce of her youth.

as ever. Whether with tattoos or toe rings, piercings or
makeup, we like to establish: This is who I am, and I’m a
little happier for having discovered it. At 12, this girl on my
barstool hearts makeup and is barreling along at a fast clip.

For some, the process of discovery is slower. My daughter is
taking her time, and I’m thankful she feels no compulsion to
be like me. “I’m finding my look,” she says as she sets aside
unopened red lipstick to pack for college, just in case.

Neither approach is wrong. Both are figuring out who they
are and how they wish to project themselves as women.

Cosmetics may or may not be part of my daughter’s adult
feminine world, and that’s her business, not mine. My
friend and I talk about our daughters blooming before our
eyes, in their own way, in their own time. As I personally
learned, makeup is not an end in itself, but a means to an
end. It’s optional, an available addition to the complicated
whole called you.

Confidence is strength and strength is beauty. Makeup is
merely one way to get there.

Kathryn Streeter is a D.C.-based mom and blogger.

ISTOCK / GETTY IMAGES PLUS/WEKWEK
She speaks effusively of her treasures, many of them bought
over time with holiday and birthday money. Her designer
products sparkle, reflecting the excitement on her face.

It isn’t that makeup makes you happy; it makes
you happier. It establishes a bit of a personal
signature, announcing to the world: This is me.

My friend’s young daughter doesn’t need
makeup to bring her happiness, but sitting
in front of me, her eyes aglow, she could
feel her elegance and womanhood stirred,
emboldened. I could tell.

Since the beginning of time, women have
been beautifying themselves, a fact as true today
washingtonFAMILY.com November 2018 41