So there I was, up at 5 a.m. lying in bed, alternately watching the sunrise and reading entertainment articles on my phone, my 2 year old wedged up in my armpit nook, thinking about Kim Kardashian's 2015 makeup routine. As most people know, any type of perusing the web these days guarantees at some point landing on a picture of a Kardashian, and at 5:03 a.m., I had found one. Halfway rolling my eyes, halfway thinking damn, those girls wear a lot of makeup, but then also halfway (nevermind the math) thinking, but the makeup does look pretty glamorous, I was already all the way down the rabbit hole.
I flipped out of the article and opened Kim’s Instagram page, which I hadn’t checked in at least a week. I casually scrolled through the pictures, stopping to glimpse briefly at her boobs (dude) and her posing with Kylie, whose lips I’m a little obsessed with. But the images that really got me were the recently posted pics where Kim is taking selfies in a dark room in front of the camera, glam face strong, obviously. They got me because she’s obviously pregnant, but her face looks slim, perfected, and camera-ready. Is it the makeup? The contouring? What is happening?
I hopped up, went to my computer and searched “how to do your makeup like Kim Kardashian” on YouTube. A video by Glam Booth TV showed up, one that I’ve actually seen posted on Facebook, and I started watching it. Not even 20 seconds into it, I unplugged my computer from the cord, picked it up, walked straight to my bedroom, turned on some Kanye, and started to put my makeup on.
The road to Kim Kardashian Face seemed like a long one, and for better or worse, I was about to find out just how long.
The Road To Kim K’s Face Is Paved With A Ton Of Makeup
I sat the computer on the bed, next to my heavy-sleeping daughter, who was snoozing through “Flashing Lights” (only old Kanye is played in this house, FYI), and watched the first step on the video: drawing inverted triangles underneath the eyes with foundation that is at least three times lighter than your skin tone. And so I started to do just that.
Here’s two triangles. I looked just like the girl in the video. I started to get excited. It looked odd, but also kind of cute ...
Adding the white on my forehead, chin, and down the bridge of my nose really changed things up. I felt like I was wearing an African Warrior Wooden Mask or Maori face paint or Mel Gibson Braveheart face. I didn’t look cute anymore. I looked and felt tribal, a bit Mad Max-ish. I felt weirdly powerful. I reached down and turned up my Kanye.
It was when I added in the darker “contouring” foundation in between the white that things got a little weird. Sure, I had on weird, contrasting colors of makeup, but it was changing up my facial features, making my nose longer and my forehead smaller. I felt so unlike myself. For one, it was strange seeing my face look like this, but also my usual daily makeup routine only takes me around 15 minutes. I’d spent at least that just getting to this point. Though I like experimenting with makeup from time to time and was excited to see the results, I couldn’t imagine doing this -- spending this much time on my face -- every day.
In the video, the makeup artist blends. And blends. And blends. She uses very short, soft strokes slowly moving up the jawline and then around the face. The model sits there patiently through it all, looking beautiful. I blended mine with much longer, much less delicate strokes. And no, I didn’t stay as composed as the model. There were a FEW swear words uttered.
Hold up, girlfriend. I’m now also supposed to put on setting powder? My face was slowly becoming seven-layer makeup and skin burrito.
It started off all fun and joyfully, but then I quickly fell down the rabbit hole of despair: What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Why do I need to wear this much makeup? I can’t feel my face through the makeup. Where is my real face?
But then after the powder, came the brows. And I started to feel a bit more human again.
Next came eyeshadow, which gave my eyes a bit of depth, and the rest of the makeup started to look more normal at this point. I think.
Getting the eyeliner on was huge. It’s Kim’s perfectly lined, big, deep-set eyes that give her that signature Kardashian look. I also have a signature look on here, it’s my I’ve had way too much coffee so I can have enough energy to actually get through this long-ass makeup routine look.
After eyeliner came false eyelashes. I’m a big fan of the way false eyelashes really take your look next level. They can immediately transform any mom to MILF status. Nevermind the fact that they took me seven tries and a nearly detached retina to put them on, because I looked good.
Add lips (which are lined slightly outside my natural lip line) and voila, my Kim Kardashian makeup was complete. Dark eyes, lifted-looking cheeks, and only ever an eighth of a smile.
Was I A Kim K Makeup Convert?
Can a mom do her makeup like Kim Kardashian? Yes. If you are a patient person with stamina and the will to survive. And if you have a solid 60-plus minutes solely to devote to makeup application. And if you have a face able to carry a few extra pounds of foundation, concealer, bronzer, fake eyelashes, and thick fake eyebrows. Yeah sure, moms can do that. We pushed human cannon balls out of our vaginas, applying Kim Kardashian makeup is whatevs, really.
The better question to ask would be: Can you function as a mom wearing this much makeup? Sure. You can still change diapers, cut the crust off sandwiches, still put the kids in time out, and lose your mom shit all while wearing Kim Kardashian makeup.
But do you want to wear this much makeup as a mom? Personally, I don’t mind wearing a bit more makeup from time to time, for a special occasion or a night out. I liked the look of my Kim-inspired makeup in the end. But I don’t want to wear it all the time. I don’t have the effing time to apply a gazillion coats of face every single day. And I don’t want to spend almost just as long taking it off at night. I’m pretty sure I’d be reliving puberty acne from a massively clogged pores problem. And also, it’s an expensive upkeep.
But one of the biggest reasons I can do without looking like Kimmy K on a daily basis is because I felt so gross and sad when I smooched and snuggled my 2-year-old daughter, especially when she pulled away with a layer of thick makeup on her cheek after an onslaught of kisses from me. It looked so wrong to see her porcelain baby skin wearing smears of “classic tan” Walgreens foundation. Sorry, baby, I left part of my face on you. She looked in the mirror and giggled excitedly. Oh, she wasn’t bothered. She thought it was funny. And she really liked my Kimye look. She even told me, “You look very beautiful like that, mom.” I thought my “Kim Mask” might put her off or that she’d tell me to wash my skin because my face looked weird, but instead she asked if she could put makeup on, too. No way, I said. You are MUCH too young to “Kim K” your face. Besides, I haven’t got another two hours to spare, toots.