Confession Time: I’m a beauty junkie. I know a lot of people say they’re beauty-obsessed and like to toss around bold beauty terms like “beauty whore” or “beauty junkie” —but I’m the real deal.
“Did you use one of my skin laundry facials?” My girlfriend asked me last winter, referring to these super chic laser facials you can buy in a bulk, that I’m crazy about.
“No.” I lied through my freshly bleached teeth. “Of course not.”
“You’re sick.” My girlfriend murmured, shaking her naturally-straight, non-blowdried head in disapproval.
“FINE! I used one of your skin laundry facials. I’m sorry! I have a problem.” I confessed, twirling a chemically-straightened lock of hair around my perfectly manicured fingers.
“You’re an addict! You’ll lie, cheat and steal for beauty products. You need to go to beauty product rehab!” She roared, pointing at the 300 lipsticks I was in the process of color coordinating on the kitchen counter.
I was silent. I was silent because I knew in the deepest pit of my superficial gut, my girlfriend was right. I’m a wildly honest lesbian when it comes to everything: Individuality. My political opinions. My thoughts and feelings. Even embarrassing things, like my deeply troubled digestive system (gag, I know) and ability to spontaneously orgasm!
But when it comes to beauty, I’m a corrupt little lezzie, not to be trusted. I put my beauty obsession over almost everything. I’m not proud of it, I’m just living my truth (and unlike beauty products, the truth isn’t always pretty, baby).
However, there are some beauty trends that I’m besotted with, that I can’t seem to get away with, because of my lesbian-ness. That’s right, queers. Being a lesbian isn’t just hard politically, fiscally (two people dealing with the gender pay gap is rough, especially in pricey Manhattan) and socially, it’s a tough life when it comes to hair and makeup too.
There are specific beauty routines that being a dyke just gets in the way of, and here are six.
1. Long, Pointy, Lana Del Rey Nails
Look, some lesbians pull off long, pointy nails and I deeply admire them. I love long, pointy Lana Del Rey nails more than anything in this cruel, cold world. They look super wicked, and nothing is more chic than looking wicked and mean, you know?
So a few years ago I went to my trusty nail tech and got some long as fuck, dangerously sharp acrylic claws adhered to my lesbian little fingers. I was sure that my fingers were flexible enough to still get the ladies off.
I was wrong! Within seconds of hooking up, the girl screamed “OUCH! Those nails!” I sheepishly removed my hand from down her designer denim pants and gave her oral sex instead. Now, if I just liked giving oral sex that would be totally fine. But I’m a lady who gets off on giving some good old fashioned ~finger penetration~ along with oral. My fingers just aren’t limber enough to NOT scratch up the delicate vagina, if I have nails.
That and I can’t type with them—so how could I keep my job as a girl who gets paid to write about her gay adventures with nails that don’t even let me type?
2. Eyelash Extensions
I don’t have much going for me. I’m terribly unathletic. I’m deathly afraid of mice, to the point where I hallucinate them scampering around my apartment daily. And I can’t add numbers without the help of a calculator. I suck at basically everything, kittens. The only thing I’ve been blessed with is this: LONG, FLUTTERY, NATURAL eyelashes. Don’t take it away from me, babes. It’s all I’ve got.
One day I decided I wanted to take my lashes to the next level, so I got eyelash extensions. My lashes were so long they scraped my eyebrows. I felt more beautiful than I had ever felt in my life.
Later that night I was uh, having sex. “Your eyelashes are tickling me! It’s driving me crazy” My hook up yelped. So much for the last extensions.
Though maybe the right girl would ~enjoy~ the tickle?
3. Spray Tans
“Uh, your spray tan ruined my brand new sheets!” My girlfriend yelled at me last summer, after my first ever spray-tan. I thought I looked like a bronzy goddess. My girlfriend was pissed at me for getting fluorescent orange streaks all over her crisp white bedding.
Something tells me a guy wouldn’t be as pissed about a girl destroying his sheets. But you never, ever screw with a woman and her precious bedding. Staining the sheets with your toxic self-tanner is a surefire way to never get laid by bae again! Also, I’m told the self-tanner “tastes funny.” I want to taste sexy, delicious, and sweet. But not, “funny.”
4. Shaving Downtown With a Razor
“Oh, you don’t need to spend all that money WAXING, just use a razor!” My chic camp counselor told me when I was 15. “If my chic camp counselor shaves her bikini line with a pink plastic razor, so CAN I!” I thought to myself as I went to town with my trusty drugstore razor on my crotch a few years later.
I also happened to have one of my first scissor-sessions ever, a few days later. I know, this is TMI, babes, but I’m Jewish. I’m hairy. The hair had grown back into dangerously sharp stubble, that cut the poor girl as we grinded against each other. It hurt me, and I’m sure it hurt this poor, non-Jewish, non-razor-bumped girl. As much as I LOVE beauty maintenance, I love scissoring more.
5. Clip-In Hair Extensions
“Are you wearing EXTENSIONS!?” A girl asked me on a first date.
I spit out a $5.00 sip out of my $9.00 green juice. “How can you TELL!”
“I might have short lesbian hair now, but I used to have long hair. When I was a kid. I can tell yours isn’t natural.” The girl smiled at me, devilishly.
This whole time I thought I had been convincing all the lady lesbians that my waist length, shiny, cascading hair was my stellar genetics. I always forget that even the butchiest lesbians, often had long hair as children, and can tell a fraud-long-haired-girl from the real deal. I’m a fraud. No one wants to be a fraud.
Oh and once a girl ripped out an extension during sex. That was fun.
5. Scented Hand Creams
I love the smell of vanilla more than any smell in the world. I used to slather my hands with a very creamy, strongly-scented vanilla cream every day.
Until my girlfriend got a yeast infection and blamed my hand-cream. Now I use boring hypo-allergenic, nonfragranced JERGENS. Snooze. Boring. Yawn. But hey, my totally basic unscented hand cream at least lets me do what I love most: hookup with girls, without tarnishing their precious parts. So it’s worth. At least most of the time.