03 Mar 2015

I don’t want you to know how much foundation I apply, how much eyelash curling I endure, or what position my beautician put me in last week to wax my ‘special places’. I don’t want to be made to feel bad because I like to get my nails done. I don’t like the sense of guilt I get when I strap up a new pair of heels.

Being a girl is exhausting and expensive

We wake up early to give our straighteners time to heat up so we can burn our frizzy hair into something fabulous. We all experience the red tide of Mordor so companies take advantage and charge exuberant prices for a piece of cotton we can shove up our glovebox. And, to keep that tide coming, most of us pay for birth control out-of-pocket.

I can afford the foundation, the blush, the concealer, the eyeliner, the lipgloss, the top, the pants, the shoes, and the nail polish, but please don’t ask if I can afford to go out and show it all off. I’ve learned to appreciate the luxury of getting my nails done if my mum wants to flip the bill; otherwise I’ve learned how to French manicure my nails like nobody’s business. I can’t afford a new outfit every weekend so I’ve learned to really love nights in wearing sweatpants and t-shirts. This new top? You’re going to see it at every social event I attend until there’s a picture taken of me wearing it. Then, it will disappear into the black hole in my closet labeled ‘already worn. And, I cannot afford to keep getting waxed, or the cost of razors, so my boyfriend now enjoys me wearing pants to bed. New swimsuit? Not a chance babe, I’d rather spend those funds on drunk munch. New hair ties? How about ‘borrowing’ from one of my partner’s mates who’s growing out his own hair.

Buy yourself one incredibly comfortable and supportive pair of shoes, and wear them into the ground. I buy earrings that are seven pairs to a pack because I end up losing them all anyway. I’ve taken to braiding my hair to avoid losing those extra crucial minutes of sleep to primp and pamper. And, let’s be honest, you do not want me to sacrifice that extra cup of coffee I buy on my way to work. Well, cha-ching.

I don’t want to apologise for the maintenance I keep. I think putting a candle on the table at Macca’s makes it a date, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to take me fifteen minutes to get ready. I like when my things shine bright like diamonds and I want the latest handbag and iPhone and gold case. I want and I budget for are two very different things though.

I can’t afford to live in the penthouse suite, go shopping during the week, or really pay for the gym membership I own now. I’m not sorry about it, though. The want is my drive, and I’ll admit I have my materialistic moments but when my partner offers to buy me the vest I’ve been going on about for weeks I don’t say yes. He doesn’t see what that vest means to me: it means saving chump change and putting aside small amounts so I can say I earned it on my own. It means supporting myself. While still letting him buy me dinner, sometimes, because I am so hungry and so broke.

Being a low-maintenance chick or being a high-maintenance chick, it still costs. Maybe you don’t spend your money on makeup, but instead you spend it on notebooks and pens and computer extras. You’re a surfer chick? I know my Malibu was a hefty price to pay. Worth it, but it still means wax for your board instead of your body.

Then there’s my (boy) friend, who I’ve seen wear the same cycle of five shirts for months. His shorts have rips in the front and the back, he doesn’t wear shoes, and his facial hair needs a trim every few weeks. I’ve seen him get a few hair-cuts and his cologne and deodorant cost the same as mine. And he is content as a cucumber.

Why does it cost so much to be a chick?

Because for every piece of underwear a guy owns, a girl needs to have a bra to match.

It’s an expensive busines–being a woman. From moisturisers to beauty products, there is no doubt it isn’t for the faint of heart. And sometimes, the big bills rung up aren’t the women’s faults: Studies have found that women face sexual prejudice in the market, with companies charging an unjustified markup for products marketed toward females.

I’m bias toward leaning to defend my gender, naturally, but consider that young women’s incomes tend to be significantly less than young men’s. And, according to the Australian Government Office for Youth, at 24 years old, women have almost peaked in their earning capacity, while men’s earnings increase considerably as they get older. Women are trapped in an ugly cycle of earning less and spending more, which dictates a dependency on a partner’s income to substantiate the lifestyle of being a woman.

It’s not all whiny banter of the uneducated. It’s feminism at its finest. It’s the understanding that we’re all in this together and equality for women in politics, economics, culture, personal and social rights benefits both genders. But it’s also learning to not hold a grudge because I own twelve different lipsticks but get jealous my mate can afford new boardies. Maybe a little spring cleaning of our make up bags and sock drawers might prove enlightening toward where all our money really goes.