The Art of Love and Makeup
A comparison of portraiture, makeup, and female friendship 
Illustration: Khushi Sagar
Makeup must be some configuration of a love language. One might argue that the act of doing makeup for others, falls under the category of acts of service. Although this may be true, I instead consider the act of doing makeup for a loved one, a confirmation of the presence of love, familiarity and female friendship.
When you take a second to compare the similarities between portraiture and makeup, you’ll find that the bulk of them rest in those two hours before a painting is done. The reason being is that unlike painting, with makeup you aren’t working with a blank canvas. The sentiment that you are working from a fresh start, has always been one that I disagree with, since makeup is the process of balancing, enhancing and fussing with art that already exists. Faces are art, it's why many artists take pleasure in recreating them.
When I was 15 years old I took it upon myself to enroll in a couple courses at a makeup college. As I situated myself in front of the vanity, the first thing my instructor said was that “your model is the least important determining factor of the final product”. Although I agree with this from a technical standpoint, I would instead argue that the closer you are to the model, the better the final product. For instance, when I frequently do my mom’s makeup before a dinner, it feels like putting lipstick on a mirror. The reason for this ease stems from the fact that familiarity with the subject makes the process easier.
It’s why I'm content doing makeup for my friends. The easier the process feels, the more certain I am that I know them well, that we are close, and that they are familiar. I know the way Emma and Julia’s faces morph when they laugh, or obscure when they cringe. I know from watching Autumn fuss over her hair every morning that she is particular about the effortlessness of her appearance. I’ve seen Fiona beam when she enters a room with a smoky eye that contrasts the red of her hair. These unmissable pieces of information and patterns accumulate into an internal database which enables me to find such ease in doing their makeup. The more textured a relationship is, the less practice is required to compliment their skin.
If you were to ask one artist to complete a painting that they had never seen or worked on, would the end product be better, worse, or the same as the original artist? Both harbor the same experience, and technical skill. The only artistic difference is that the original artist had spent time observing the painting, while the other had not. I would argue that although both paintings would end up beautiful, the one done by the original artist, would be marginally better. The reason being is that the time spent with the painting, the love poured into those hours of observation, enables the artist to work within lines they know from memory. If I were to compare this hypothetical to the process of makeup, I would find similarities in the relationship between the art and the artist in both cases.
Although a makeup artist does not create their muse, the same way an artist creates their art, the deliberate and careful relationship in both is the same. It's easy to place details on art which you have observed with care. The breadth of the relationship manifests in the form of familiarity which acts as a tool that enables both art and makeup to reach some imaginary makeup of perfection. Objectively, the art of love and makeup lives in the long hours it takes to memorize every tiny, missable detail in a person's face.