My eyes are gray.
…my eyes are gray?
I’ve been in A Mood lately. I’m frustrated that I’m still sick (I coughed so hard the other day that I bruised/pulled something in my chest, and then my coughs tasted coppery for a bit. You know what would be awesome right now? HEALTH INSURANCE), and I’m stressed and kind of panicky and allowing myself to be overwhelmed by basically everything. So naturally, my mind has turned to eyeshadow.
I love eyeshadow. Well, I mean, really I just love colors, because I am five years old and delighted by anything vivid. But eyeshadow is an especial weakness. Particularly the kind offered over at Aromaleigh. Their shop is flush with hundreds of shimmery, storybook shades with names like “Dulcinea”, “Lovelorn”, and “Greenbrier”, and I want to buy every single color and turn my eyelids into some kind of pastel Impressionist masterpiece.
In reality, I can’t wear any of it. I have the weirdest face in all of Weirdfordshire, with deep-set eyes and permanent dark under-eye circles, and eyeshadow of almost any color only seems to highlight these problems rather than distract from them. It’s still fun to look though, and imagine that yes, that one shade of purple is so incredible that putting a little of it in the crease of your eyelid will literally fix your entire face and also probably your life.
In my most recent attempt to make my love for eyeshadow a mutual affair instead of my usual unrequited pining, I started looking around online for tips on what colors one should use to flatter the particular shade of one’s eyes. Green eyes, I was told, should stay away from blues and greens, and focus instead on purples, browns, and coppers. These colors were guaranteed to make green eyes “pop”. I rummaged through my industrial-sized makeup case — a grown-up girl’s box of Crayolas — and pulled out every green-flattering shade I could find, trying various combinations on my lids, hunting desperately for the one that would give me eyes so fabulously green, everyone would assume my father was a leprechaun, or perhaps some kind of lime.
Nope. Nothing. What the hell was the problem? I guess it could be the fact that I, y’know, HAD BEEN DELUDING MYSELF ABOUT MY EYE COLOR FOR A MILLION YEARS.
It seriously all came flooding back like some repressed memory. When I was little, I wanted bright blue eyes hardcore, but no amount of intense mirror-staring could make that wish come true. My eyes were definitely not blue. But I couldn’t really figure out what color my eyes were. They obviously weren’t brown. They weren’t really hazel, once I figured out what the hell hazel was. I decided, therefore, that they had to be green, which was neat, because green eyes are rare and beautiful and man did this little girl ever want to be rare and beautiful. I decided I had green eyes. The second I remembered that, I realized that my eyes are actually…gray. Always have been gray. I just don’t think I knew that gray was an eye color when I was, like, six, so I defaulted my perception to the nearest available match.
Now I feel like an idiot for not having seen it sooner. I mean, it’s completely obvious. Wikipedia tells me that gray eyes “often tend to appear to change between the shades of blue, green and gray…because gray eyes are extremely light”, so at least that’s something of an excuse. I was grasping at vaguely green-tinged straws.
I’m sure a more interesting person would pull something lovely out of this revelation, saying poetic things about storm-gray seas or monochrome film. But it turns out that I am very dull. Just like my eyes! So it’s perfect, really.
Man. Gray. Man.