Makeup and feminism: or why I’m here

But Erin, isn’t wearing makeup fundamentally anti-feminist? Doesn’t it buy into the idea that women are required to perform femininity and force themselves into a narrow beauty ideal in order to be aesthetically pleasing to men, either to find a mate or be taken seriously?
What a great question. I’m going to give you the answer I give multiple times a day in my day-job as a lawyer: it depends.
First-wave feminists — those fighting for equality between 1830 and the mid-1900’s — would probably ask you why this question is even relevant. They’re too busy campaigning for basic fundamental rights like being treated as a person separate to their husband, the right to own property or the ability to vote — the first step in securing political power to affect change on a long term basis.
Second-wave feminists — who worked hard to broaden the debate from between around 1960 and the 1980s — would probably say yes. During this time, an unadorned face was a badge of feminist honour, and wearing makeup was seen to be allowing the further objectification and oppression of women. Feminists ascribing to second-wave ideals would probably tell you that yes, wearing makeup is fundamentally anti-feminists.
Third-wave feminists — those coming to feminism in the 1990’s and beyond — are interested in expanding feminism to include a diverse set of identities, and have usually come to feminism through activism or study in one of the many strains of feminism.
One of these strains is Lipstick Feminism — the idea that women can embrace traditional forms of femininity alongside feminism, reclaiming words, practices and ideals as a way to empower women. Lipstick feminists (and feminists from some other streams), would say absolutely not — wearing makeup and being feminist are not mutually exclusive, and in fact, wearing makeup can empower women psychologically, socially and politically.
So, who is correct?
Well, at the risk of giving yet another lawyer-answer, I’d have to say: Everyone. It depends.
From a first-wave perspective, of course whether or not a woman wears makeup is not important. There are much bigger problems facing women, such as the fact that in Australia one woman dies every week at the hands of her partner. Or the pay gap, with Australian women earning approximately 84% of the salary paid to a man for the same job. At an international level, women are far more likely to be the victims of human trafficking, disproportionately affected by war and natural disasters, and indigenous women far more likely to be victims of violent crime. Shouldn’t we be focussing on these things?
From a second-wave perspective, the fact that we live in a world that is still predominantly patriarchal means that wearing makeup does still contribute to the idea that women are inherently imperfect and must do what they can to fix this. In ‘The Beauty Myth’, Naomi Wolf talks about the powerful social pressure on women to conform to a physical ‘image’ of beauty that is “not born by our true human needs and inclinations, but by a strategically designed plan to give them a carrot they can never reach.” Even now, 26 years after The Beauty Myth was published, it’s hard to argue against this.
But for me, one of those feminists growing up in the third wave, it’s hard not to believe in makeup as a tool for expressing my feminist identity. Given the roots of feminism in fighting for body autonomy — a fight that continues to this day — surely it is aligned with feminism for me to say ‘my body, my choice’ when it comes to makeup. Maybe it’s not the choice that you would make, or the choice you would like me to make, but ultimately, that’s the whole point. I get to decide.
Feminism is also about critically analysing the choices we make. When I started wearing makeup at 16, it was about making myself pretty and impressing the boys. Even though I felt like makeup was a world that wasn’t for me — a fat girl — I kept doing my best with it because I felt I had to in order to even marginally keep up with the girls who were conventionally attractive. In my late twenties and early thirties, after I learned more about feminism, I started questioning these beliefs, and turned away from makeup. Never completely, but I began wearing it understanding the impetus behind it, and making a choice whether to buy into the expectation or not.
Now, in my mid-thirties, I’m less interested in living up to what feels like an arbitrary ‘ideal’ and using makeup to express my own personal identity. Sometimes that’s bright red lips with a pinup girl dress, and sometimes it’s a dark smoky eye, vampy lips, jeans and a torn t-shirt, emulating the 90’s rock star I aspired to be once upon a time.
This is what The Lipstick Feminist is about for me. Not about selling a bunch of products people don’t want or need — it’s about further exploring and critically evaluating makeup through the lens of feminism, and helping other people do the same. It’s also about helping people who have felt left out, either by makeup culture or feminism, to enter into either (or both) and feel like they have a place to belong. I’m interested in holding femininity with a loose grip, neither raising it up to the epitome of feminism, nor looking down on it as irrelevant to or inconsistent with feminist ideals.
Femininity can either be who you are, or a choice you make on a given day, and in my view, neither of these is better than the other.
So, come along with me for the ride, won’t you? I know I’m not changing the world by talking about this stuff, but I do know it’s gonna be a lot of fun.