A Totally Unhinged Gen-X Guide To Getting Ready For A Night Out
Courtesy of AuthorWhen I stumbled upon writer Mona Lazar's story about how Gen-Z looks older than Millennials, it got me thinkin about how simple, yet complex Gen-X’s “grooming” process was in the 80s.
Let me start by saying that our generation only used the word grooming in reference to what you did to your dog when its fur got too long or too dirty. We didn’t groom ourselves; we got ready.
To get ready for school, work, or going out took an hour to an hour and a half. No matter what kind of hair you had, the hair process was extensive, involving pink foam rollers, Clairol hot rollers, velcro rollers, or a 1" curling iron. Historically, we liked to break and heat-damage our hair to look good.
Every girl at one time or another burnt herself brutally with the iron or said she did to disguise that nasty hickey on her neck from Steve down the street. (You know who you are.)
Finally, it was all lacquered up and liquored down with Aqua Net, Stiff Stuff, or Sebastian Spritz Forte. Enter mall bangs here.
A totally unhinged Gen-X pre-going-out makeup routine
Photo from Author
While waiting for our hair to curl or burn, both viable possibilities, we’d open our Caboodles and begin the make-up process
First, start to apply Cover Girl liquid foundation in Beige, Honey, or Ivory if you weren’t blessed with much pigment. It wasn’t uncommon to mis-shade ourselves and end up with a dark ring around our necks like a raccoon, or looking like we stepped out of Kabuki theater. (This could easily be remedied by testing colors on the inside of your wrist as suggested by the cosmetician at the local Albertsons grocery store. Yes, the grocery store had a cosmetic “expert”. Yours truly did that job for a year. The perks, i.e., free samples, were epic.)
Blush was then applied aggressively and severely with the world’s tiniest and most ineffective brush that came with your Maybelline Cheekers. So aggressive that you’d crack the blush, which was a one-and-done. It would crumble, then fall into the sink in a million pieces. Dad would get mad at the blush stains on the porcelain, and God forbid you dropped it on the bathroom carpet and accidentally stepped on it and ground it in.
Next, the pièce de résistance, the windows to your soul: the eyes. Nothing makes you feel more like a professional make-up artist than applying the eyeshadow quad. The numbered instructions on the back helped you swipe on that blue shadow with confidence. And if you were really bold, you’d match it with some blue mascara, you foxy lady.
We didn’t do anything with our unruly brows — they just ran wild and free like tiny caterpillars on our face
Photo from Author
As you enter your bedroom, fully coiffed, it’s time to step into your Esprit outfit, add some huge primary colored geometric earrings, and spray yourself with Claiborne, Sunflowers, or Colors by Benneton, and you’re ready to head out into the world for a night out on the town.
Give your hair one final coat of shellacking so it doesn’t fall before the day is over
You’re like, totally ready. At the end of the day, before bed, you head back to the lair that is your bathroom, open that strong Noxema cream to take your makeup off, swipe some Bonne Bell Ten–Zero–Six on to burn off the excess, dab Clearasil on your incoming pimples, and top it off with your mom’s Oil of Ola or in my case, the samples of Clinique Dramatically Different Moisturizing Lotion my mom got in her Gifts-With-Purchases.
No red light therapy, YouTube tutorials, extreme contouring, or expensive lines of product. No Botox, glycolic peels, or researching nips and tucks. No internet, only magazines. We suffered with acne, let our baby fat be baby fat, and never once stepped foot into a Sephora or concerned ourselves with aging.
We were too busy playing video games, roller skating, cruising the main street in a Trans Am, riding bikes, talking on the phone for hours, sneaking out the window and sneaking in bottles of Boone's Farm Strawberry Wine while smoking Marlboro Reds.
Just kids acting like kids, teens, and young adults while leaving the worrying and aging to the grown-ups.
Kristen Crisp is the founder of Not Even Wine With Dinner. A community/mission for those looking for peer support with sobriety, self-esteem, mental health, aging, and all the things that come with being human. She is also a frequent writer on Medium under the handle @notevenwinewithdinner.
