Glowing up using the makeup routines we had growing up
Before the world of beauty influencers and James Charles imitations, if you wanted to recreate Cara Delevigne’s signature cat eye (with the Revlon eyeliner you secretly nicked from your mum’s makeup bag), you’d have to consult the beauty tutorials in teen magazines like Girlfriend, Teen Vogue, and Creme. These teenage girl bibles not only told you which One Direction member you were most compatible with or how to rock a pastel high-low skirt, but they also greatly shaped our perceptions of femininity and feminine presentation.
In my deep-dive through the glossy pages of our favourite teen mags, I came across quite a variety of tutorials. Unsurprisingly, many of the guides were pretty problematic (re: Girlfriend’s guide titled ‘How To Wear Oriental’). Some were just plain weird (which editor decided smacking your cheeks was a good natural alternative to blush?). Others, like the hair bow tutorials I used to froth over (where your literal hair is tied into a bow on the top of your head), were straight up a crime against humanity, and a humbling reminder of where I came from. Sure, the teens these days may be glued to TikTok, but there’s nothing more embarrassing than once being a loyal subscriber of the YouTube channel CuteGirlsHairstyles.
Girlfriend 2015 magazine tutorial: ‘Beauty How-To: Wide Awake Eyes’
To re-possess the spirit of my 13-year-old self, I decided to follow a beauty tutorial. This one looked promising because it could be fun to look less “oriental”, or some other instant-noodle flavour on the shelves of Countdown’s “international” grocery aisle. Plus, this tutorial just felt super nostalgic—it transported me straight back to the days I desperately tried to make my monolids into Miley Cyrus’ captivating round blue orbs that just pierce right into your soul.
The first step was opting “for a rose pink shade for your lips—this looks fresh and pretty without taking the attention away from your peepers”. Although I usually avoid pink lip shades because they make me look sickly (and not in the hot Tim Burton character way), I had to commit for my teen self, whose internalised racism would do anything to make her ‘slit’ eyes look a little less Asian and more Caucasian.
Step two was applying a “beige, caramel, or peach-coloured eyeshadow on your eyelids, which will help brighten the eye area and make your eyes appear larger. Dark colours will make your eyes appear smaller”. This I could somewhat get behind. I wish my younger self had jumped onto the bandwagon of warm pink and peach eyeshadow palettes sooner, instead of wondering for years why I looked like China’s national animal everytime I used brown or dark eyeshadow.
After I’d applied a generous amount of peach eyeshadow on my eyelids, it was time to move onto step three, which was “using a white or pale pink eyeliner pencil, slowly and gently line the inner rims of your lower eyelid. This will instantly reduce the appearance of redness in your eyes”. Was this the hack everyone else used to disguise their red puffy eyes after a late-night cry? Maybe the brightening effects of this trick was worth putting up eyeliner pencils, which always snapped after two uses, or when you sharpened it a little too much. Regardless, I dug up the stump of a white eyeliner pencil I had in the bottom of my makeup drawer, and lined my waterline, fighting off the tears that pooled in my sensitive eyes. Beauty really is pain.
Step four was using “a gold, peach, or silver illuminator or shimmery eyeshadow, line the inside corner of your eyes. This will give the illusion of larger eyes”. This was a technique I normally do when I’m feeling like going extra glam with my eye makeup. Who doesn’t love making your eye crusties sparkly?
And finally, the last step was to “apply a fine line of eyeliner on your upper lash line, then apply two coats of mascara”. If you’ve got monolids or hooded eyelids, you’ll know that thin eyeliner just does not work. Because of the way our eyelids fold, whatever we draw just completely disappears as soon as our eyes open—leaving us looking like we didn’t just spend the last ten minutes hunched 10cm away from your mirror, painstakingly holding up a protractor to make sure both wings were the exact same degrees.
Predictably, the thin eyeliner did absolutely nothing. I was so tempted to go back and attack my eyelids with black eyeliner like I usually do so it actually shows up on my eyes (if it didn’t look like you abused your eyes with black Vivid, you’re doing it wrong). But to respect the integrity of the tutorial, I resisted.
The two coats of mascara on my downturned eyelashes was also a fat flop. Thanks to my naked mole rat genetics, in order for my nonexistent eyelashes to be visible to the naked human eye, I need to clamp the shit out of them with eyelash curlers. After curling them, the only mascara that keeps them from drooping down is the heavy-duty waterproof kind that’s so hydrophobic that it could probably be used to seal roads in a pinch.
The verdict: Maybe it’s Maybelline (or the lack of Maybelline products). Maybe I’m just a shit MUA. Or maybe it’s because I don’t have white people eyes. Either way, this “wide awake eyes” tutorial was not a slay. Clearly, there was a reason why our mums didn’t let us wear makeup at 13. Especially if you’re a POC, the Eurocentric beauty tutorials of our beloved teen mags will probably make you look hella fugly.
Instead of trying to “glow up” using makeup guides evidently not designed to suit ethnic features, or attempting to “fix” lucrative insecurities manufactured by the beauty industry, my teen self would’ve been better off spending more time reading YA novels and writing Wattpad fanfics. At least those hobbies helped to nurture creativity, critical thinking, and literacy skills—a far better glow up than shimmery eyelids if you ask me.