To see her face.

This weekend I splurged on a few things at Kiehls after my Oil of Olay stopped regenerating me. As I climbed into bed with my naked face, I was reminded of a friend my mother had when I was growing up.
This woman sported quite the bouffant and more makeup than Joan Rivers: false eyelashes, the works.

Mother and I stopped by her house one day (her name has been changed to protect my mom) to drop off a casserole dish. A strange woman in a bathrobe answered the door and my mother said, "Is Joan here?" And Lord have mercy, but it was Joan! Without her face on.
My mom managed to recover -- she's stunningly clever -- and Joan said she wore her makeup all the time, even to bed. "Don has never seen me without makeup," she said with a confusing pride.
Then there is the opposite extreme. This story, from an Arab newspaper, gives an account of a man who had to identify his wife's body after she died in a car accident. But he'd never, ever seen her face. She'd always worn a burqa.
The authorities had to put a burqa back on her before her husband would even attempt to identify her. Said he,
My wife still keeps her face covered all the time even in front of her family and relatives because she has been accustomed to this since she was a child�I have to respect her wishes and not insist on seeing her face.
* * *
. . . although I have been married to my wife for nearly 10 years and have five children from her, I have not seen her face even once in my life.I'm sorry she died, but truthfully, my thoughts are more drawn to this custom. Imagine if your face were covered 24/7.
No more makeup.
No more losing at poker.
No more botox.
No more teeth whitening.
No more feigning a look of joy when he gives you an FTD floral mug.

Labels: Burqa, Makeup, Women