I didn't start wearing makeup until my 1980s wannabe lesbian phase. All my daddy's friends were over for a BBQ, I had just turned 19 and had a tiiight pair of speedos from the summer of 72 laying in that back shelf of my closet. what daddy's friends all sat around the table, talking amongst each other about banking and the stock market, I burst out of that 2nd story window in my sexy speedo, with a thick Jack Doroshow inspired glitter cut-crease glistening on the lid of my eye. I felt the tequila pumping through my feeble frame, as I leapt down onto the rectangular table. Only a split second in which I wasn't focusing on the yummy business associates beneath me, I focused on the face of my dear papa. his once bright smile had turned to an ashamed grimace, the crevices of his face being carved deeper by the chisel of time; he had grown old, and I was too focused on getting my fix to realise. well the second was soon over as my limp body crashed against the table, however the tablecloth had covered the truth, the table was made of glass. I crashed directly through the centre, the glass piercing and slicing my skin in my decent. all in all, 18 was a great age to start wearing makeup. don't let those younger cooler kids stop you!