There’s a certain heartbreak baked into everything we love.
The lipstick you wore on the night you met them. The eyeshadow that caught the light just right when you felt invincible. The compact passed down from someone who no longer gets ready in the mirror. These moments, like the makeup we use to mark them, fade.
Beauty is fleeting and that’s a hauntingly wonderful feature.
Makeup, by design, isn’t made to last long-term. It smudges, creases, rinses away. And yet, we continue to apply it. Ritualistically. Tenderly. As if to say: Even if it won’t last, it’s worth doing. Even if the color fades by nightfall, there’s value in how it made us feel for the hours we wore it.
We preserve what we can—a photograph, a compact saved in a drawer, the memory of how our cheeks flushed in the light. But like fresh flowers, beauty makes its deepest impression because it doesn’t stay.
At F.A.C.E., we treat makeup like poetry—meant to be felt, not frozen. We honor it as the temporary art that helps us return to ourselves, even if only for a moment. Because those moments, however brief, are sacred.
And maybe the fact that beauty is ephemeral is what makes it feel so deeply cherished.
We remember not because it stayed—but because we knew it wouldn’t.
Photos: Glenn Hall Photography