Tears Through Make-Up Like most girls, I wear make-up. Like most girls, I wear a lot of it (but I make sure I don't look like a tart): foundation, powder, blusher, highlighter, eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, and some sort of tint on my lips. It sounds like a lot, but you probably wear that much too. Maybe more. The other day a single tear ran down my cheek. When I looked in the mirror, I saw it had cut through the liquid eyeliner that I'd carefully applies into perfect cat-eye flicks, the Clinique Bottom-Lash Mascara, the concealer, the alabaster foundation and the powder like a knife through butter, and I realised that all we're doing is hiding ourselves, because we believe our own skin, our own eyes, our own lips and nose and cheekbones aren't good enough. Sometimes I think I'll have a make-up free day, even though the only spots on my face are freckles, but we all know that's never going to happen. Why? Because I don't trust people not to laugh at me, and I don't believe I'm pretty enough. People say everyone is beautiful in their own way. Yeah, because Osama Bin Ladin, Dr Shipman, and Henry VIII were gorgeous.