I open the black and silver case and catch a waft of that slightly greasy smell that has always terrified me. I hear the echo in my head

“You’re a girl, try looking like one!”

I never knew girls looked like makeup.

They laughed until I cried and here I am, staring down at my one and only set of makeup. A thoughtless present from a rich aunt, opened twice only to give away the matching coral red lipstick and nail varnish.

Why are there eight brushes? I know the ones with round pads on the end are for eye shadow, but what about the ones with hair? I can’t tell if the tubs of round brown shades are foundation or blusher, but I suppose it doesn’t matter seeing as I can’t use either. I take out a pink crayon with a silver lid and read the miniscule writing down the side

‘Folk Lore Liner. Contouring pencil.’

It’s a different language screaming colours at me and I don’t know what order to put them in so they’ll make sense. What exactly was I doing when every other little girl was learning this stuff?

Okay, lipstick. Even I know what to do with that. I take out a beige coloured stick, nice and subtle so I don’t scare myself away. It feels dry and pulls my lips into weird shapes a few times before anything comes off it. Slowly round, just like colouring in – don’t go outside the lines.

It’s hideous. My lips feel like they’re suffocating and every crack and line is highlighted in a shiny, unpleasant way. I quickly wipe it off and I’m disgusted to see glittery orange streaked across the tissue. I’m starting to think this was a present from a rich but stingy aunt. I decide to try the purpley lipstick to see if that looks any better.

My word I look like a hooker.

I suddenly remember a bit of advice my friend once gave me – if in doubt, stick to lip gloss. I think I have one of those lying round somewhere. I unearth it and swipe it across my lips a few times to get the ball at the top rolling; it’s probably years since this thing was last used. It actually doesn’t look too bad when I’m done.

Right, lips done, now to attempt eye shadow. Or are you supposed to do the liner first? I think I might leave the eyeliner this time, the way things are going I’ll probably take an eye out. I pick out the brown palette of eye shadow, I figure it goes with my skin and if I stuff it up I won’t be stuck with bright green eyelids. I slide it on, holding my eye shut with my left hand to stop the lid flickering. Why are my eyelids so wrinkly? I can’t seem to get the colour in the same place on both eyes, but I suppose I can’t expect perfection on my first time.

Eyes done, I pick the biggest brush with hair and decide that the tubs have blusher in. I wipe some across my cheeks and wonder why anyone would want to look like they’re blushing.

Now everything’s done that I dare to do and I take a step back from the mirror to check it out.

It looks…

I look…

I look like a little girl caught playing with her mother’s makeup.

My eyes water as the Clean&Clear wipes away the evidence of my experiment. What happened with me? How did it get to this?

Twenty years old and I can’t even do my own makeup.

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