Permanent makeup isn’t about beauty
Earlier this week, I heard someone talking about permanent makeup in a disparaging way.
Of course, they didn’t say that outright.
It was more along the lines of: they prefer the natural look, less fake. They aren’t shallow, they said.
To my mind, there is nothing wrong with wanting to look good, or even just better. But those comments underscored something I see often: a misconception that permanent makeup is about beauty.
It’s about far more than that.
As women, particularly as we get older, we are damned if we do and damned if we don’t. People are quick to comment if you look tired, or like you “need a break.” There’s whispering if you look old, but there’s whispering too if people think you’ve had cosmetic work done too.
The unspoken rule seems to be this: you’re not allowed to want to look better. But if you visibly age or look worn down, you’ve somehow let yourself go.
Beyond those who seek PMU around medical treatment or illness, many women come to it for a different reason altogether. Somewhere along the way, often while caring for everyone else, they’ve lost a sense of themselves.
There’s a misalignment between who they feel they are on the inside and how they appear to the outside world.
Whether we like it or not, how we present physically is one of the most powerful outward expressions of identity. Our clothes, hair, tattoos, makeup, even how we decorate our homes, all of these reflect something about who we are.
Our faces are the most visible part of that expression. It’s what people look at when they speak to us. It’s what they think of when they see us in their mind’s eye. Most importantly, it’s how we recognise ourselves.
There is nothing wrong with wanting to feel better about your face, whether that’s just for you, in the mirror, or so you feel more confident when you show up in the world.
For most of the women who come to consultations, PMU isn’t about conventional beauty at all. Their reasons aren’t shallow. More often, it’s about excavating a sense of self that’s been buried deep under life, responsibility, and other people’s needs.
It’s the opposite of fake. Most aren’t trying to look like someone else. They want to feel like themselves again, replacing brows that have thinned so they don’t look permanently cross, or restoring the eyeliner they’ve worn since they were fifteen but can no longer apply after a minor stroke.
And there are women who’ve had so much going on for so long that they’ve forgotten themselves entirely. They can’t remember what they like, or what they want to wear. It hasn’t mattered, not under the weight of everyone else’s needs.
Add in ageing and perimenopause, and one day they look in the mirror and don’t know the person looking back.
These women come for a consultation not just to talk about looking better, but to talk about where colour has drained from their lives and how to begin bringing some of it back, starting with recognising themselves again.
