I had a discussion today with a friend about makeup. None of my female friends really wear it unless they're getting gussied up to go out, or are costumed, or are being naughty. I, however, wear it every day, for the most part. I'm not one of those girls who can't leave the house without getting made up, but I do wear it to work and out on the town.

Thing is, I enjoy wearing makeup. I'd venture to say that I enjoy just about every aspect of it. I love each and every jar and bottle and tube and wand and cake and brush and sponge. I love going to the store and looking at the plethora of colors I have to choose from and marvelling at new makeup technology, the new styles in makeup; each bit of glitter and gloss and glitz and shine.

I probably have about 17 shades of lipstick going unused somewhere around the house, even though I never fall in love enough with a color to use it all up. Sometimes I will search for just the perfect shade of eyeliner which leaves me in my current situation, with about 8 different shades and varieties of silver sparkle to put around my eyes.

I don't see makeup as a duty (Most women do it, so I should too!) or as a crutch (If I don't put this on, I'll look -awful-!) so much as I see it as a work of art. I enjoy picking out my colors for the day, and apply them with gusto and relish. I think they only serve to enhance what is already there, and I am careful that it remains so -- you'll never catch me looking like Tammy Faye, and quite often people will say "There's something different about you! You're wearing MAKEUP!" when I wear something a little more flamboyant.

So, there you have it, in a nutshell: my relationship with facepaint. It's quite gratifying, therefore, to have a male friend say at a party "Is that green you're wearing on your eyelids? Close your eyes and let the girls see. Look, girls, isn't that pretty, the way it catches the light?"

And yeah, it is. Or I wouldn't wear it.