Are you ready for the bare faced chic of backpacking?
Before I went travelling the thought of leaving the house without even a dab of concealer or lashings of mascara freaked me out. Not that I was a really girly girl (bar the odd party nights out when I went from plain Jane to Barbie doll) but I’ve just never been that confident in my own skin.
Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses, add to that spots, red blotches and crooked teeth and you’ve got yourself one self-conscious worrier.
I even took a full bag of make-up with me the first time I travelled alone. Cringe. What backpacker has tubes of foundation stashed next to their travel wallet and passport? I was so naïve of just how much travel would change the way I viewed myself, not just on the inside but the outside too.
I probably only wore make-up on the first day I arrived in Bangkok to add a little colour to my lily white cheeks and again when I celebrated Christmas, a special occasion and all that. Apart from that I went bared faced, my make-up bag doing nothing more than weighing me down, a constant reminder of how much I’d previously relied on this expensive comfort blanket.
You see heat, humidity and sweat does not a perfect base make. There was no way foundation would have clung onto my skin even if I had layered and contoured it on. Dripping panda eyes is hardly the height of chicness, not to mention how out of place you look all dolled up when other backpackers embrace the laid back look.
I soon got used to rolling out of bed, running a cold shower to wake me up, spraying a blast of deodorant and if I was feeling really on form then maybe running a brush through my sun damaged hair. I had so much more time on my hands when getting ready for the day took less time than it did when I used to struggle over perfecting the cat eye flick. Curse you Alexa Chung.
With this new daily routine I started to grow in confidence. Slowly allowing myself not to worry if the group of strangers I’d met in a hostel could see that irritating cluster of spots around my chin or that my eyebrows hadn’t been threatened with a pair of tweezers for a few days, and instead enjoyed just being me. A very casual, relaxed but happy me.
Soon I developed a tan, my freckles took the place of acne scars and a dab of SPF lip salve to stop my lips from burning was all I needed. I finally felt good about myself. I made friends not through my looks but through my personality. I relied on my charms, sparkling sense of humour and modesty 🙂 to meet people and let my hair down.
Since returning to some level of normality living and working in northern France, where the weather rivals the UK for sunny days, I admit that my make-up bag has been back out. The tan has faded, the spots are annoyingly reclaiming their place (argh adult acne be gone!!) and it has taken a few trips to the hairdressers to improve my straw-like split ends, meaning the free spirited hippy look has had a mini makeover.
Please don’t get me wrong - I’m not saying that make-up is a negative thing. It is a luxury us women have to highlight our features, accentuate our best bits and to hide pesky dark circles but when make-up is used as a mask - hiding yourself or changing how you want to be perceived - then that isn’t healthy.
I don’t wear make-up every day but when I do I chose a much more natural look. I haven’t worn fake tan or applied fake eyelashes for at least 2 years (they were a Saturday night staple before) and my heavy foundation has been swapped for a lighter CC cream. I guess it could also be a combination of getting older, surviving the big 3-0, realising this is the skin I am always going to be in so I may as well love my flaws. But if I hadn’t had that wakeup call when I backpacked I doubt I would have come to this realisation so quickly.
You are you.
You are beautiful. Seriously.
