I used to reject makeup – Euphoria brought it back into my life
I used to reject makeup – When I first encountered Jules in the HBO series *Euphoria*, everything shifted. The show, which concluded its three-season run last week, introduced me to a new way of seeing beauty. Played by trans icon Hunter Schafer, Jules embodied a unique expression of femininity that felt both authentic and revolutionary. Her presence on screen seemed to defy the constraints of societal norms, radiating a confidence that was impossible to ignore.
The character’s aesthetic left an indelible mark. At just 20 years old, Jules became my muse, her makeup looks as bold as her personality. I remember being captivated by the way she blended colors on her eyelids, her mesh tops paired with a furry backpack, and the way she moved through the high school setting with a sense of purpose. Her style wasn’t just visual—it was a narrative about self-acceptance and individuality.
It wasn’t until I revisited the show’s visuals that I realized how much my own identity had been shaped by it. The first time I saw her, I was seven years old, watching my mother apply makeup for parties. Those early moments were filled with wonder, as I sat on the bathroom floor, mesmerized by the transformation she brought to her face. But it wasn’t until Euphoria that I felt a connection to the art of makeup that transcended childhood curiosity.
Aesthetic Awakening
The show’s intense focus on relationships and addictions painted a vivid picture of teenage life, but it was Jules’ makeup that truly held my attention. Her eye looks, ranging from soft white clouds to electric yellow shadows, were unlike anything I’d seen before. The way she used white eyeliner to accentuate her features felt like a masterclass in self-expression. I became obsessed, spending hours studying her techniques and experimenting with my own.
As I delved deeper into makeup, the act transformed from a pastime into a personal mission. I filled my drawers with colorful eyeshadows and lipsticks, each product a tool for reshaping my image. The process was thrilling, as if I were uncovering a hidden talent. Yet, this passion quickly turned into something more consuming, blurring the line between creativity and compulsion.
The Mirror’s Dominion
By the time I reached 16, the ritual of applying makeup had become a daily necessity. I’d wake up ten minutes earlier than usual, determined to perfect my look before heading to school. The pressure to conform was palpable, and I found myself critiquing every detail—my brows, my skin tone, even the way my hair fell. One day, a friend’s comment about my eyebrows being “too pale” acted as a catalyst, pushing me to spend hours in front of the mirror, refining every stroke with a pencil.
“I needed to do something about my eyebrows because they were ‘too pale’.”
This phase of meticulous grooming was both empowering and exhausting. I embraced the idea that beauty was a canvas to be perfected, often hiding my natural features under layers of product. The transition from playful experimentation to obsessive precision was subtle but profound. I felt as though I were sculpting my identity, piece by piece, in an effort to meet the standards others expected.
However, this pursuit of perfection came at a cost. My skin began to rebel, and by 18, I was battling acne. I used foundation as a shield, applying it with the same fervor as a painter would use brushstrokes. Each layer hid imperfections, but the act of concealing became a crutch. The emotional toll of constant critique made me question whether I was truly wearing makeup for myself or for the approval of others.
Breaking Free
When I moved to London for university, a new chapter began. My friends, who seemed indifferent to the daily ritual of makeup, encouraged me to embrace my authentic self. At first, I felt vulnerable, as if I were exposing a part of me I’d long hidden. But the freedom of not adhering to makeup rules was exhilarating. I discovered a new confidence, one that wasn’t tied to a polished face but to self-acceptance.
It was during this time that I also found love for the first time. This romantic connection helped me reconcile my identity, answering a question I’d carried for years: Was I queer? The realization that my self-expression could be both personal and powerful made me reflect on how much of my makeup routine had been dictated by external pressures rather than inner desire.
A New Perspective
Now, I view makeup as a tool rather than a requirement. It’s no longer about masking flaws but about celebrating individuality. Euphoria reignited my love for the art, reminding me of the joy I once felt in childhood. The show’s fearless approach to beauty inspired me to revisit the vibrant colors I had abandoned, rekindling a passion that felt both nostalgic and fresh.
My journey with makeup has been a mirror to my personal growth. From a youthful fascination to an obsessive habit, and then to a liberated self-expression, it has evolved alongside my understanding of who I am. The LGBTQ+ community, in particular, has played a vital role in this transformation. Our vibrant WhatsApp group, with members from around the world, serves as a space where we discuss the latest news and challenges facing the community. It’s a reminder that beauty is not just a personal pursuit but a collective celebration.
Today, I approach makeup with a sense of curiosity rather than obligation. The tools I once used to conform are now part of my creative arsenal, allowing me to express myself in ways that feel true. Euphoria taught me that beauty can be a form of rebellion, a way to assert one’s identity in a world that often tries to define it. And while I still enjoy experimenting with colors, I no longer feel the need to perfect every detail. Instead, I embrace the messiness of being human, one brushstroke at a time.
