I didn’t wear make-up properly until the beginning of this year. For those of you who are following me (hello) I don’t need to repeat my age for the shock effect. Know I have gone through high school and a majority of university looking at liquid eyeliner and asking ‘well what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?’

As someone with a large imagination I consider my central talents to be firmly rooted within the creative genres; writing, drawing, and creating characters and scenarios that can flourish in these outlets. This is what I strive in. I’ve had these by my side since I was at least eight. These talents have been raised alongside me and with both time and a deeper understanding I have polished them to a gleam. Nine months ago I decided to begin wearing make-up: proper make-up. There is no childhood knowledge passed down from my mother nor a cracked and almost used palette of cheap but vibrant eye-shadows I’ve had since I was eleven. My knowledge had to come from the ground up. I am holding an eyelash curler and a brush with what looks like a pip cleaner stuck to the end. I have no idea what to do. I panic. They’re thrown into the box. I’ll try again tomorrow.

We have all made mistakes in our teenage years. In a way that is the reason why they exist. It’s rather cruel that while our bodies are a mess of hormones we must stumble blindly over rough terrain that can easily lead onto broken glass. In my teenage years I look back to my writing and outwardly cringe. I was discovering the abstract surrealism I adore but to get to it there were doors I had to close, genres I needed to try before I knew they were not my true calling. I am grateful for this period of discovery. You should be too. However painful it is to recall, you could still be writing those same sappy poems about eyes raining with tears had it not happened.

My point is that this horror is what some girls feel with their make-up skills from back then. They’ll tell you the terrible techniques they used when they were fourteen and I’ll be sweating from the temples and recalling how I used that same technique only last year. That horrible period in make-up discovery is happening for me right now. I’m old enough for such rookie mistakes (I only realise after I’ve worn it in public at least twice) to feel like a blow to the stomach each and every time. Looking the fool is scary especially when you feel like the king. The mistakes are inevitable. To be excellent you have to first be good. To be good you first have to be average. To be average you first have to be bad. It’s something I need to remember.

Recently I met old friend on the train who I hadn’t seen in at least a year. He said ‘Wow Princess, I didn’t even recognise you.’ (He was sitting across from me. It was I who saw him) ‘You really look different with your make-up.’ Is it a compliment or perhaps I look too different, eyebrows drawn too thickly or the contents of my eyelid had fallen into my waterline? I just don’t know.