coucou
seisme

se maquiller + a teenager's right to wear makeup?

Flowers for Maman (c) Kristin Espinasse
Our little girl is growing up and writing her own anecdotes! Read Jackie's story "Ma Routine" in French and in English, below. Mille mercis to our Francophone friend Newforest for helping with corrections. (The picture was taken when Jackie was 7... and lagging behind on a field trip... in time to cueillir quelques fleurs.) 

se maquiller (seuh ma kee ay) verb

    : to put on makeup

le maquillage = makeup
le maquilleur (la maquilleuse) = makeup artist 

Example sentence:
Selon vous, à partir de quel âge une fille peut-elle commencer à se maquiller pour aller en cours? In your opinion, from what age can a girl begin to wear makeup to class?

.
Ma Routine
… par Jackie Espinasse, 13 ans

In the morning I wake up between 7:00 and 7:10. My mom has to wake me up because, at that hour, I am still too tired to open my eyes and get out of bed! (Mom) makes me wake up because I really have to go to school (to junior high).

When I wake up, my first reflex is to look out the little window in my hallway to see what the weather is like outside; next, I go down the stairs and see my dogs, who are always excited at this hour because they want me to feed them breakfast.

So, I serve them something to eat, then, after, I eat while half asleep.

When I finish eating I go back up to my room, I turn on the radio, and I get dressed – all the while listening to music. Then, I fix my hair and, while fixing my hair I always ask myself the same question: “Why don’t my parents want me to put on makeup?” Personally, I do not like my face without base makeup, without black eyeliner, without (liquid) liner, and without mascara. If you ask me, I find it sad that my parents deprive me of makeup (to wear to school) because, what’s more, it is my makeup that I have paid for myself with my pocket money!

To all readers: Would you, please, tell my parents that this is not fair? Well, anyway, after this little morning routine, I brush my teeth and, finally, around 8:10, Mom drives me in the car to school. So there you have it. P.S.: I don’t like junior high!

(READ IT IN FRENCH NOW...)
Le matin je me lève entre sept heures et sept heures dix.
C’est ma mère qui est obligée de me réveiller, car à cette heure-là, je suis encore trop fatiguée pour ouvrir les yeux et sortir du lit ! Elle m’oblige à me lever, car il faut bien que j’aille au collège.

Quand je me lève, mon premier réflexe c’est de regarder à la petite fenêtre de mon couloir pour voir quel temps il fait dehors. Ensuite, je descends les escaliers, et je vois mes chiens qui sont toujours excités à cette heure-là car ils veulent que je leur donne leur petit déjeuner.

Alors, je leur sers à manger, puis, après, je mange, tout en étant à moitié endormie.

Capture plein écran 11032011 085256Quand j’ai fini de manger, je monte dans ma chambre, j’allume la radio, et je m’habille tout en écoutant de la musique. Puis je me coiffe et, en me coiffant, je me pose toujours cette même question: « Pourquoi mes parents ne veulent-ils pas que je me maquille ? » Moi, personnellement, je n’aime pas mon visage quand il est sans fond de teint, sans crayon noir, sans liner, et sans mascara ! Pour ma part, je trouve ça triste que mes parents me privent de maquillage pour aller au collège car, en plus de ça, c’est mon maquillage que j’ai payé moi-même, avec mon argent de poche!

« A tous les lecteurs » :
Pouvez-vous, s’il vous plaît, dire à mes parents que c’est injuste ?

Mais bon, bref, après cette petite routine matinale, je me brosse les dents, et finalement, vers huit heures dix, Maman me conduit en voiture au collège.

Et voilà.

P.S. : Je n’aime pas le collège !

*    *    *
*    *    *
Have a second for another short-short story? Please read "Fille"

 

P1000470-3

(Smokey) Boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing (c) Kristin Espinasse
This picture of Mama Braise (left) and Smokey desperately needs a thought bubble or a speech balloon. Your ideas are welcome in the comments box. (Put your mouse over the photo for mine) Merci d'avance!

A Message from KristiFor twenty years now, support from readers like you has been an encouragement and a means to carve out a career in writing. If my work has touched you in any way, please consider a donation. Your gift keeps me going! Thank you very much.

Ways to contribute:
1. Send a check
2. Paypal or credit card
3. A bank transfer via Zelle, a great way to send your donation as there are no transaction fees.

Or purchase my book for a friend, and so help spread the French word.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety

Comments