I’m cheesed off with your bloody makeup
I’m sorry to say that the views you’re about to read can be extremely abhorrent and borderline unsophisticated. I am an exception in a world where beauty and advancement in women is gauged by the quality of nails, hair, eye lashes and the powder put on their faces. Instead, I appreciate exquisite beauty and I love simplicity.
It’s in my constitution to treat every woman with respect and tact. And despite my views on this particular topic, I don’t and will never treat women as subjects of my indecent judgement. I don’t think anyone should look good “for someone else” but as a human being I just happen to find a thrill when I see unblemished natural beauty. When I can’t see any of that around, I fret, which I guess is the reason for me to talk about this.
I love my African sisters. They are amazing in so many ways. Most of them have luscious lips, appetizing eyes and drop-dead fine faces. But I think most often that glamor is defaced by all these cosmetics.
I am not expecting ladies in 2016 to be backward dinosaurs but I always feel a burr in my chest when pure allure is buried beneath some insipid make-up, creepy lipstick, excessively weird nails and a weave.
We are being starved of black beauty by our black sisters who seem to have adopted in their minds an epitome of how a woman should look in contrast of true attributes of natural black women.
It’s basic common sense that you don’t tinker with something that needs no fix. I’m left wondering why you’re tampering with such beauty with your makeup. Part of the reason, I think, we were talking about draconian rules on black hair in former Model C schools two weeks ago is because whites have gotten so used to black people wearing weaves that it almost feels eccentric when a black girl embraces her uniqueness.
Those rules were wrong on at least two counts. One, they’re racist and secondly that they throttle nature and uniqueness. Dare I say that in my life I see only a few dozen black women with their natural hair. For many the experience of having “black hair” has become foreign.
In my opinion, genuine beauty is such a rare jewel. When I spot a beautiful, natural black woman, I don’t think twice about a compliment. Sometimes I compliment originality because originality nowadays is like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.
There is a television commercial that speaks about character and to a broader extent genuineness. Towards the end of this advert, there is an important question that goes “take away his award, his car, his girlfriend. What does he have left?” and that’s the question I wish to ask every woman with bogus stuff all over her body. If you take away your artificial nails, hair, eye lashes, and lipstick. What do you have left?
I believe that perfection is when there is nothing to take away yet you almost feel like there is nothing more to add. Being beautiful is being yourself.
