He doesn’t get it at all.
“You’re only stepping out for some milk and bread, why do you need make-up for that?”
She ignores him, and instead reaches out for a slender black bottle of eyeliner. It is one among the many that line her dresser. Carefully she draws a long thin brush across her half closed eyelid. Her hand is so steady, it shuts him up for a minute. It reminds him of art class back in school; the teacher would pull out the perfect lines across blank pages and expect him to do the same. He never once managed to get it right.
“It just doesn’t seem worth this much effort you know. It takes you longer to get ready than it does for you to get back. It’s just, it’s just stupid”, he continues.
The store is at the corner of the street. It’ll probably take her fifteen minutes at the most. If you think about it, he is right; this does seem like a waste. She reaches out for the cherry red lipstick, red is promising to be big this season, and paints her lips.
Five years ago, she’d have said the same thing. Back then she just used to pull on a tattered old tee and a pair of jeans. She’d hardly even run a brush through her hair, much to her mother’s horror. But now, it’s a different time. You never know who’s watching. She’s counted at least five CCTVs from here to the store. Looking perfect takes time, but there are many people on the other side who’d agree: it’s worth the effort.