True Story.

A novelist in her fifties is tired of toxic beauty norms.

My story for you this week isn’t fiction. But maybe some of you can relate.

It feels inescapable.

I was walking down the street, thinking about a deadline, when a woman called out to me. She worked for the beauty/Med-spa type place on the corner, and said, essentially, “Hey, we’re running a special, you look like you could really use some Botox.” She didn’t actually word it like that. But when someone offers you a solution, it suggests you’ve got a problem. And if you keep hearing that you’ve got a problem, eventually you start to believe it.

I was raised to not “let myself go.” (Seriously.) But this used to mean a pretty lipstick, not an injection. Not a laser. And it was a lot more fun. I remember going through my mother’s “makeup drawer” and playing with all the colors like it was finger paint. Or going to a department store on a day when they were giving away free samples at the Clinique counter. There was no better feeling than unzipping one of those little promo bags with mini lip glosses. Makeup seemed like a gift, not a chore.

My first job out of college was managing a Prescriptives Cosmetics counter. Estée Lauder sent me to their training program for color theory and application. My instructor was so committed to the brand she named her newborn daughter after the perfume: Calyx. (I thought that was so cool.)

Calyx: The perfume that became a baby name.

I loved my little uniform (a black lab coat), and the fact that I was getting paid to learn about something I loved. Becoming skilled at makeup made me feel powerful. I was capable of helping people look how we wanted to look.

But things changed. When I was in my thirties, an intern at the office told me I should do Botox. I was shocked. I thought I looked fine. But the intern, only in his twenties, informed me he was already fully committed to an anti-aging regimen. So, I did it: I tried Botox. I didn’t tell anyone. The whole experience filled me with shame. It felt like a betrayal of my core beliefs about beauty: That our efforts should be self-expression, not correction. So I said no to Botox.

Makeup used to be enough. I believe that it is, still. And if you feel that way too, stick with me. Because now, instead of Botox, I’m going back to makeup school — for real. Not online. Not YouTube. I’m packing up and going to NYC.

I’m starting in 3 weeks!

I’m going to find out what beauty looks like now. I want to see whether makeup can still be fun in an era of injectables, fillers, and lasers. I want to learn the new tricks. I want to know which products are worth the hype and which aren’t. But most of all, I want to figure out a way to take beauty back into our own hands.

So, divas, our new drama is Beauty School Summer, and I’m bringing you with me. I’ll report back from class, share what I’m learning, test products, revisit old techniques, and find a way to make beauty fun again.

What are your thoughts on Botox/make-up/beauty culture? Let me know in the comments. I’m giving this a lot of thought. And follow along on Instagram (at) Novel Beauties to continue this conversation.💋

XO

Jamie