Sister Act

My sister and I fought constantly when we were younger. At home, there were hair-pulling, punching, slapping, and even biting matches over everything: toys, attention, sleeping space. Communicable childhood diseases were always a good excuse to keep us apart. My frustrated grandmother would always sigh, "Dapat sa inyo paghiwalayin."

My mother constantly compared me to my pretty sister, poised, popular and athletic. I was the apple of my grandparents' eyes, and she probably also resented the fact that I was their fair-haired child: well-read and articulate.

Battle lines were not only drawn at home, the tension was also palpable in school. I was Daria: The English Nerd perennially on the "Bookworm of the Month" list. She was Morgan: Always a cheerleader during sports events. I could not remember a time she wasn't at the hub of coolness of some sort. She is smart, but her social life got in the way of her studies. She always had boyfriends. People always compared us to each other. "Why can't you be pretty and fix yourself up like your sister?" they'd ask me. "Why is your sister such a weirdo?" they'd ask her.

I became a source of embarrassment for her, I think. I deliberately made myself the anti-thesis of her: I'd go to school in mis-matched socks, kept to myself. Whenever I'd go out, I would manage to find the most horrifying outfit you could conceive. (you won't find pictures of myself aged 14-16: Except for my school photos in uniform, I burned them all.)

I was so happy when college rolled along: I was finally free of her shadow. I became free to experiment, and forge my own identity, which I did, free of criticism and comparison. It was then that I began to see that she wasn't the monster I thought she was, and my distance from home and independence became a source of admiration for her.

I read a column in a paper wherein the writer postulated that it is wrong to absorb the traits of other people people for the sake of social acceptance since it dilutes your essence. Au contraire, my dearest. In my case, I became secure enough in my own identity to see that hey, looking presentable isn't as bad as I thought it was. What's wrong with emulating somebody when it helps make you a better person? Social acceptance wasn't my goal, but it came with my decision to befriend my sister. I saw that being into the things she was into didn't turn me into her clone. I soon became interested in *gasp* boys, clothes, shopping and make-up. Yessirree, I turned into a typical female. At age 17. (sad no?)

I started out clueless in what it took to become female. In the beginning, I was dependent on her for everything: borrowed her clothes, used her make-up. I admire my sister's fashion sense: She's so savvy that anything she wears now would be seen on TV six months to a year later. Yes, folks, very forward taste indeed. Whenever I have to be dolled up for an event, nobody touches my face except for my sister. Nobody can do my make-up without her present. She knows enough about the quirks of my face to know what would make me look good.

Now that she has to leave for the US soon *sniff sniff* I had to learn to pick my own clothes and put on my own make-up. For me, the highest compliment I could think of is my sister giving her stamp of approval on anything I wear or on my make-up that was done without her supervision. Not that I'm dependent on her approval, mind you. It's the feeling that a young Padawan gets when the Jedi Master says that you've come. It means that my sister can leave for the US without having to worry about me embarrassing myself inadvertently with my taste in clothes.

Yes my sister, I have arrived.

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With this, I announce the beginning of a series of tutorials on make-up for those who are *ahem* kikay challenged? I will demonstrate basic make-up application for the dummies like myself who didn't bother to learn how to put on make-up until I had to learn it on my own. Better learn how to swim, folks, before the time comes when you to need a life jacket.

The tutorials will also feature "Guyspeak," a portion to wherein I'd translate the make-up application techniques to make it more digestible to the male mind. I will endorse products that I swear by at the moment. Suggestions from other females are very much welcome! We are all here to learn.

Jonas suggested that I come up with the series when I showed him my "arsenal." His eyes glazed over when I explained to him the mechanics and uses of the contents of my make-up kit. I held his hand as I re-assured him that make-up is not something to fear, and I helped de-mystify make-up and its application for him. I do understand that all those make-over shows can be intimidating in layering on make-up advice. So I will only feature products and applications that I use and works for me and my friends. Huwag kayong malula sa make-up. You don't have to listen to everything put out there! You don't have to buy everything that's advertised! Try on something. Buy it if you like it. Throw it out when it starts to smell. Otherwise, your drawers will resemble you'r mother's stained make-up dresser.

Till then.