This Charming Girl

I would go out tonight but I don't know what make up to wear.

So, I like to sit at my blog and see where serendipity takes me with my posts. Well it landed right in my lap this morning. For some reason unbeknownst to man I switched on to The Wright Stuff. I just cannot abide Jeremy Kyle and the weather appears to have knocked out all hope of any other channel. IT IS USEFUL; it forms some kind of background noise with a handy little clock and twitter ticker on the screen even if it is the odious Matthew Wright.

(Yesterday I choose BBC Breakfast and I can't begin to articulate how surreal but utterly lovely it was to witness men talking.or gushing rather, of their love for Morrissey.)

Now that's what I call Bromance 2012

Where was I? Yes anyway, the topic du jour of this morning is why women wear make up. Not too general there? Preceeded by 'Hi-Vis Jackets of Shame', followed by Syria and 'telling it how it is', a little part of me dies inside, especially when Lorraine Chase starts squawking about a bit of slap. 

They are thinking of introducing High Vis VESTS OF SHAME in schools! 

It is a regular beauty bloggers tag that features regularly on the blogs I like to peruse on a daily basis. 

So why do I wear make up?

Well for starters, I need eyebrows (thank you Lorraine!) to pull a good expression, they frame the face. Despite the pain they can be to maintain there are a million different products to play with, thick or thin? It doesn't matter. 

You can't pull a good Morrissey face with no eyebrows.

When Morrissey goes on stage he adopts the presence of a performer; I like using make up as a shield to the world, an armor against digs, but the best thing? The best thing about wearing make up is to take it off and slump sumptuously into my night time skincare routine of rich cream and currently Welleda's Wild Rose Soothing Night Cream that came in my beauty box this month. That is a whole separate post entirely!

Oh dear, the topic of conversation has now moved on to children and screens. A breeding ground for Daily Mail readers. I sigh then switch it off. 

 WHEN WILL IT EVER END?