Hello Bagful regulars. It's me again, Scott. It's been a couple of months since my last post, and as I've been reading Nicole's articles, and we've had conversations about her addiction, it suddenly seemed like time for me to write something from my point of view. And that point of view is: What's it like to be married to a makeup junkie?

The title of this post pretty much conveys every conversation we have when Nicole comes home with new makeup things. I don't really understand what the thing is, and even if I do, I don't understand why she has so many of them. Surely one lipstick is more than enough, right? I can make a tube of Chapstick last for months, so, by my reckoning, Nicole's lipstick collection should last her, roughly, until the Sun explodes. And likely a bit longer, given that so many of them are SPF-30.

The same is true for eye liner. Or is it eye pencil? No, eye pen? Eye spy? I don't know...there are just so many things which look, and function, identically.

Perhaps this is best exemplified by a recent haul from Burberry. She obtained a lip pencil, and an eye pencil. Same box. Same thing. Different colour. But apparently one was for the eye and one was for the lip. I questioned whether or not they weren't just the same thing, so, buying a colour which could work in both locations might have been a prudent procurement.

There was scoffing at that suggestion.

Of course, I followed up with another question of my wife: So, what did that cost, a dollar?

I knew it cost many, many times more than that, and that is largely due to the rather revolting Australia Tax which retailers employ here -- things that Nicole would buy anywhere else in the world, or online, cost about 50 to 70% less than in Australia, for no good reason. I can tell that whatever my makeup-addicted wife has obtained is at the higher end of pricey when she doesn't admit right away as to the cost. Mind you, a few months ago, Nicole did have an "oh my" moment with her makeup spending...she started putting the receipt values into a spreadsheet and performed a sum() calculation on the data. I think her exact words were: I may have a problem.

Anyway...

I really don't know much about makeup...actually, that's not entirely true any longer -- over the last few years with Nicole I've learned many, many things. Mostly brand names, though. Nars (not Mars). MAC (Not Apple). Burberry (apparently they do makeup as well as that tartan pattern).

Is my life richer for knowing these things? Probably not.

Have I likely forgot how to do something critical by having replaced the knowledge in my brain with factoids about makeup? Likely so. (Right over left, and under...right over left, and under...must repeat to remember)

I have, however, learned the delicate art of answering the question: What do you think?

Men, you know what I'm getting at here.

Answering that question is something that I believe should be a critical part of a man's education in this world. Choose your words carefully, gents. And from the safety of the Land Rover.

But I digress.

Thankfully, I have an easy "out" to this question from my wonderful wife -- when she tries on new makeup here at home, she typically vanishes from the living room looking as lovely as normal, into the bathroom, where she stays, sequestered, for the better part of an hour. When she emerges, it's a sharp contrast to the look she had when she went in.

That dichotomy, from before to after, is where I land for an answer:

"Wow! It's really different from when you went in! What do you think?"

Don't get me wrong, I'm honest, and I focus on the bits I really like, and Nicole is VERY good at applying makeup and she never, ever looks like Mimi from the Drew Carey show; but at the same time, it's quite a shift in looks in a relatively short amount of time. She then grabs the camera, takes lots of pictures, and we often end up going out to dinner/drinks somewhere (this is often a weekend ritual). During that amount of time, the look grows on me, I become more accustomed to the New Nicole, and can make more useful comments.

Right, now, where was I?

Ah, okay, yes, let's talk about space, shall we?

The best way that I can think to explain what it is like to live with a makeup addict is to show how the space in the bathroom is utilised. First, let's start with my stuff:

Pretty much all of my stuff in the bathroom.

Yep, that's about it. Okay, inside of the medicine cabinet I also have my deo-spray, and the shaving kit Nicole gave me for Christmas, but trust me, that's really about it.

And now, let's take a gander at Nicole's corner of the same shelf.

"Wait a second!" I hear you shout ... "Where's all this alleged makeup you say she has??"

Fair point. Let's just pan over to the other corner of the bathroom, shall we?

But wait, let's just zoom in a bit, shall we?

I don't know, I think this stuff is for the cheeks. Or the ears.

Does this go on the lips? Nose? Eyes? I don't know.

So I think you are starting to get a glimpse of what this world is like.

Men, if your partner is into makeup, I offer you these words of wisdom - which I hope will make all of this have value: It's all about options.

Makeup is, I believe it is fair to say, about a woman's (or man's, to be fair, as I guess there are some men who are into it as well) ability to choose a colour, a hue, a look, all through a variety of visual accoutrements.

So, what is it like to live with this colourful world of options? Let's just say that the next place we rent is going to have two bathrooms. Possibly three.

And, Nicole, my love, you look fantabulous.