WhyDoYouBelieveCosmeticsCompainesAndNotMe?
Okay, I get it.
You put on layers of make up to make up for the fact that you can’t get your mind made up on who you really want to be. So you put on that mask made of mascara and foundation on your face, meaning that the foundation of your confidence is built on water and oil.
But we all know oil and water don’t mix, so it’s BP’s job to start cleaning off the fish.
But we all know oil and water don’t mix, so it’s BP’s job to start cleaning off the fish.
‘Cos there’s something fishy going on here…
You treat every outing with your girlfriends as a photo-op, knowing damn well you won’t post one of yourself without a little Photoshop. Not knowing if people like you for what your momma gave you, or maybe it’s Maybelline.
Because the entire cosmetics industry is built on telling girls they’re ugly. Either they’re not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvy enough or that your eyelashes need to be 120% longer or else you’re not as pretty as you could be.
That if you eat, you eat too much. That your body don’t look right without silicone tits, a flat stomach and Kim Kardhashian’s badonkadonk.
So you conceal your insecurities with concealers, fighting signs of aging because you relate wrinkles to looser skin. Afraid your mask will fall off, while wishing you could just lose your skin and just be seen for what’s inside, as the strings on your mask begin to loosen and we see you more for who you really are.
A girl. Just like any other, hoping she could stand out. So she wears lipstick the same shade as bright rose petals to frame the words that escape from her lips. An attempt to hook a gentleman that wouldn’t mind getting intimate as he pays attention to her intellect, so she feigns confidence in her high heels. Hoping to turn finding a mate into a game of inches granted by the stiletto at her heels. Because everyday she walks on daggers and egg shells, afraid to lose the façade because she doesn’t fit the mold.
But I don’t care if you don’t look like a movie star.
Because they are not real women. They are fictitious creations molded by a man behind a desk with pen and paper with his own idea of what somebody should look like. So girls everywhere believe the lies…because they see it on their TV screens
That they’re not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvy enough…not plastic enough. That it’s wrong to be real…
That Jersey Shore is better to look at than, that girl sitting in the corner of the room reading a book. That tanned orange skin somehow makes you think less Willy Wonka oompa loompas and more of a lifestyle spent in gyms. That reality shows are what’s good and that reality shows our real flaws and it’s not acceptable.
Because we have to look perfect…the way nobody really is.
So you continue hiding behind your mask, so perfectly crafted by manufacturers to convince you that you…don’t want to be you anymore.
Because you take compliments with a grain of salt but take anything negative to heart like it was fact.
So miss, you’re ugly because you let them convince you are.
It’s not the shape you’re in, or how your genes dictated way your face is arranged that make you beautiful. It’s cliché to state the fact but it’s what lies behind the cover of the book that keeps a reader interested.
So if you never believe a compliment…you’re hideous for not letting your beautiful soul shine through.
You treat every outing with your girlfriends as a photo-op, knowing damn well you won’t post one of yourself without a little Photoshop. Not knowing if people like you for what your momma gave you, or maybe it’s Maybelline.
Because the entire cosmetics industry is built on telling girls they’re ugly. Either they’re not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvy enough or that your eyelashes need to be 120% longer or else you’re not as pretty as you could be.
That if you eat, you eat too much. That your body don’t look right without silicone tits, a flat stomach and Kim Kardhashian’s badonkadonk.
So you conceal your insecurities with concealers, fighting signs of aging because you relate wrinkles to looser skin. Afraid your mask will fall off, while wishing you could just lose your skin and just be seen for what’s inside, as the strings on your mask begin to loosen and we see you more for who you really are.
A girl. Just like any other, hoping she could stand out. So she wears lipstick the same shade as bright rose petals to frame the words that escape from her lips. An attempt to hook a gentleman that wouldn’t mind getting intimate as he pays attention to her intellect, so she feigns confidence in her high heels. Hoping to turn finding a mate into a game of inches granted by the stiletto at her heels. Because everyday she walks on daggers and egg shells, afraid to lose the façade because she doesn’t fit the mold.
But I don’t care if you don’t look like a movie star.
Because they are not real women. They are fictitious creations molded by a man behind a desk with pen and paper with his own idea of what somebody should look like. So girls everywhere believe the lies…because they see it on their TV screens
That they’re not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not curvy enough…not plastic enough. That it’s wrong to be real…
That Jersey Shore is better to look at than, that girl sitting in the corner of the room reading a book. That tanned orange skin somehow makes you think less Willy Wonka oompa loompas and more of a lifestyle spent in gyms. That reality shows are what’s good and that reality shows our real flaws and it’s not acceptable.
Because we have to look perfect…the way nobody really is.
So you continue hiding behind your mask, so perfectly crafted by manufacturers to convince you that you…don’t want to be you anymore.
Because you take compliments with a grain of salt but take anything negative to heart like it was fact.
So miss, you’re ugly because you let them convince you are.
It’s not the shape you’re in, or how your genes dictated way your face is arranged that make you beautiful. It’s cliché to state the fact but it’s what lies behind the cover of the book that keeps a reader interested.
So if you never believe a compliment…you’re hideous for not letting your beautiful soul shine through.
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