Makeup Tips/How To

This post was written by Kate
Is it possible to birth a baby and still look cute? Kate thinks so, and she shares how in today’s guest post.

When I found out that my due date was May 1st, my first thoughts weren’t of baby blankets and onesies. All I could think about was, how am I going to avoid looking like a wet dish towel in one of those post delivery photos? — the ones that someone always manages to snap at the exact moment when you’re the most sweaty, the most tired, and the least ready to have a remotely flattering picture taken. I’m talking about that moment when after 12 hours of intense labor, the cameras start clicking like crazy!

I never really thought of myself as a particularly vain person, and I know that when the time comes, it’s supposed to be all about the baby, but I was determined to hang on to some shred of my former makeup loving self, and come out of the whole experience glowing, despite the stretch marks and imminent hemorrhoids.

About a month before my due date, I became the lone pregnant lady haunting the aisles of my local Sephora. I rarely took a friend on these occasions, mainly because I could not have any distractions from what I saw as my personal mission. I was determined to put together a look that could withstand whatever curveball Mother Nature decided to throw my way, be it C-section or 24 hours of labor. Whatever happened to be going on below my neck, I was hellbent on keeping what was above it well controlled and looking its best. I needed the makeup equivalent of an Earthquake Prevention Kit.

I decided that my best course of action was to treat my baby’s delivery like a really long and painful spinning class. I knew to expect a lot of huffing and puffing, and most of all, a lot of sweat. That meant that I needed a face that was waterproof and sweatproof. I wanted to strike a balance between no makeup and being a Real Housewife of Beverly Hills. To me, that meant glowy and flushed, not sculpted and painted. Even if I spent whole days in oatmeal splattered pajama pants and my husband’s wife beater remembering the days when I could count on a morning shower, I would feel secure in the knowledge that I didn’t go down without a fight.
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