An Ode To Mascara

by Samantha Angoletta
Originally Published: 
A close-up of a blue-eyed girl's eye, who's wearing mascara on her upper and lower lashes
HeikeIr / Pixabay

Like most moms, my daily care routine has changed significantly since welcoming my darling crotch fruit into the world.

On a typical day, I do not style my hair or apply face makeup. I twist my hair into a top knot to keep it out of my face, and my infant’s iron fists, and I do the sniff test to see if I really need to take a shower during nap time (my precious daily gift) or if it can wait until after dinner when my spouse gets home (my favorite option).

There’s one thing, though, that has not changed — and will never change — and I will never ever give it up, and you or God or my feral children can’t make me: my love affair with mascara. Black mascara. The patron saint of makeup bags. The key to looking alive, whether it is from a late night at the club (21-year-old me) or years of sleep deprivation (32-year-old me).

I don’t care what is happening. Every single day, without fail, I blink on a coat or two of my favorite mascara. Even if I’m staying home all day long, in my pajamas from the night before, I look into the hallway mirror and I swipe those eyelashes with some precious black goop.

I do not mind how I look without makeup, but I do mind how I look without mascara. I’m not putting it on for you, or the mailman, or my husband, and certainly not for the kids (because they definitely do not give a shit). I am putting it on for me, myself, and I. I go from drab to fairly fab in 12 seconds. It makes me feel energized and a bit more motivated to face the day. I realize this makes no sense to many of you, and I’m not pretending that I’m changing the world here, but I know some of you are really feeling me, my fellow mascara worshippers.

And like all of my mascara groupies, we all have our favorite formula. The one we swear by. The one we tell all of our friends about. The one that we always come back to — and vow to never leave again — after we are convinced to try something new only to be totally disappointed. It might be a drugstore classic, or it might be a fancy splurge. It doesn’t matter. It just matters that you swipe it on and feel like taking over the world, or your living room.

I’m guilty of plunking down some serious cash for face makeup and a good bronzer. And I’ve tried opting into the high-end brands to make sure I wasn’t missing out. I’ve tried every sample that comes in my monthly subscription boxes. And to this day, I can’t be convinced to betray L’Oreal Telescopic. It’s been my baby for five-plus years now, and if they ever stop making it, I will fly to L’Oreal headquarters and do something fanatical like throw a wild-eyed temper tantrum in their front office while demanding an immediate reversal of their stupid-ass decision.


It’s under $10. It works like a freaking dream. It doesn’t get goopy or clumpy, and it doesn’t leave rings under my eyes after a long day. It lengthens, it intensifies, and it is exactly what I needed to look alive. I’m not getting paid to say this, and they didn’t even send me free shit. I just feel like I should spread the good news of amazing beauty discoveries. If you’ve got a favorite, like me, you likely can’t be shaken in your loyalty. I respect that.

But if you’re out there still trying to find your match, I’ve got your back.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go swipe right. On my eyelashes.

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