I’m not what you’d call a make-up person. Eye shadow is as far as I’m prepared to go on a daily basis. In a nice neutral tone. Most of which is probably gone before I even leave the house in the morning. On special occasions, I might be persuaded to apply a coat of mascara. But as I said, only on special occasions.

I’m not saying I don’t own any other cosmetics. I do. About once a year, I go through a phase where I take a renewed interest in such things. It’s probably not a coincidence that it usually occurs roughly about six months prior to my birthday, when those “Wow, I’m almost ___” thoughts start filtering through my brain.

These thoughts are almost immediately followed by a desperate attempt to integrate all things cosmetic into my routine. Which lasts, roughly, 36 hours.

The remnants from my last foray into this oh-so-elusive realm are currently housed in a small make-up pouch in my purse. I consider it my emergency stash. Although, I’ve yet to define what kind of emergency would warrant the unexpected application of eye make-up. Well, you can never be too prepared, right?

My female friends and family members, are baffled by my lack of interest in such things. For them, there is no sin greater than to leave the house without putting on their “face.” I, on the other hand, consider it a good day if I leave the house with weather-appropriate shoes.

My aversion to wearing make-up has nothing to do with any moral or philosophical disdain for the cosmetic. But rather my complete inability to apply it. I’m not sure how I missed out on this female rite of passage, but some how I did. Did I miss a day in 5th grade health class? I mean, that’s when they filled us in on all the other important stuff about womanhood. (And wow, what a shock that was to my pre-pubescent self!)

Not long ago, I was lamenting to a friend about what I considered a fatal flaw in the little wand-like applicator that comes with my preferred brand of eye shadow. The little foamy tip always comes off, which irritates me to no end.

I’m not sure I can adequately describe the precise mix of pity, disbelief and condescension in said friend’s voice as she carefully explained that no one actually uses the applicators included with the eye shadow. Apparently, every woman worth her salt has a special set of brushes for this purpose.

Except me.

The whole removal process is also too much of a pain. Sure, I wash my face every night before I go to bed, right after I brush and, to appease my dental hygienist, floss. But I like to keep my evening ablutions simple. No three step processes, cold creams or fancy make-up removers.