I Blame it On The 70s

I started high school in the early 70s, after some of the fake-ish fads like beehive hairdos, “go-go boots,” and frosted pink lipstick had mercifully fizzled out. Then the pendulum swung the other way. Now, for a fairly broad swath of young people, “natural” was in. Artificial conventions such as makeup, neatly trimmed hair, and personal hygiene? Out.

At our school we had a lot of girls both pretty and stylish, who still wore makeup and came to class looking quite snazzy. That wasn’t me. I dressed more like the “hippie-esque” set, or perhaps the merely awkward. To be precise, those with no particular sense of style. I mean, I showered and all, but sometimes I wore my brother’s old oxford shirts with my too-long bell-bottom jeans. Yes, to school.

And no makeup. Nothing against it, I simply couldn’t be bothered learning to put it on. There was too much other stuff to do.

Namely, at least from January into May, the Choir department’s Spring musicals. We rehearsed and performed the likes of Hello, Dolly! and The Music Man. Ah, The Music Man… now, that was a good year! I actually had a speaking role. What fun! I painted sets, made most of my costumes, memorized a bunch of other people’s lines along with my own, and generally spent a lot of time at the junior high, where we would perform. (It was the only school with an auditorium and stage at the time. Too bad it wasn’t air-conditioned.)

Eventually we got down to the wire: Dress Rehearsal. The girls all crowded into one classroom and piled our costumes on desks. Then we proceeded to do our stage makeup.

Wait, did I say “we?” Hah–that would be a gross exaggeration. I was utterly useless. Well, I could put lipstick on myself if I had a mirror. But then another girl asked me to apply her mascara. I froze. “Me? On your eyelashes?? But–what if I put your eye out?” She coached me through it with no major mishaps. Somebody else did my mascara, thankfully.

That was many years ago. Over time I did learn to put on makeup. Now I wear it most days, though I rarely take time to mess with eye shadow.

And mascara?

Well, perhaps I never quite recovered from the dress-rehearsal trauma, because I still have trouble with it. I’ll try a basic waterproof, which turns out to have a skinny little wand that, if possible, actually makes my lashes look shorter. Okay, so I’ll buy one with a “plumping” wand. The wand pictured on the package looks fine, but when I actually pull it out of the tube, it seems to morph into a bottle brush. I end up with what looks like shorebird tracks scattered from eyebrows to cheekbones, which must then be scrubbed off with cold cream and a Q-Tip.

Q-Tips: Buy stock.

But I’m determined to have long, pretty eyelashes, and not from mere vanity. For one thing, I have low-contrast coloring. Without mascara and lipstick I look like I have no features at all. This can upset young children. I’ve tried everything…

“No Clumping!” It clumps.

“Flexor Brush caresses lashes!” I don’t want my lashes caressed, thank you. I want mascara on them.

“Outrageous lengths!” Nope.

“Separates lashes!” They stick together in five chunks, so I resemble Betty Boop, only without cleavage.

And so I continue to practice, and search for the perfect mascara every few months, and wonder why I had to be a teenager in the 70s.

Maybe one day I will win this battle.

That’d be groovy, man.

Thanks for reading!

PS: I’m linking up with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters. Join us?

About Jan C. Johnson

Welcome! If you like food, reading, laughing over life's little disasters, and maybe thinking about the bigger things of life, you have come to the right place. Besides blogging, I write humorous fiction, though real life tends to leave fictional humor in the shade. But I'm not a total goofball. No, really. I'm also working on a biography project. I live in North Texas with my husband, Brent. We enjoy bicycling, Mexican food, and traveling to visit our kids and grandkids.
This entry was posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories) and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to I Blame it On The 70s

  1. jodyo70 says:

    May I suggest Estee Lauder mascara. Worth every penny (and no, I don’t own any stock.)


  2. saraleeperel says:

    Oh my, this is one terrific column, my friend. Your writing just carries me away.

    Coincidentally, I bought mascara yesterday at the supermarket – after spending over 20 minutes reading and re-reading the various promises on each brand.

    Love you, pal-o-mine


  3. marlecem says:

    Ha! I think if we were to take a poll that the ‘mascara’ dilemma would be right at the top of most all girls issues. I don’t think it has really anything to do with the fact that you are a 70’s girl at heart it’s just so darn hard to find a good mascara period! Again, you make me laugh.


  4. Anonymous says:

    I’m still waiting to get those Oxford shirts back.


Your Turn: comments welcome here.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.