I Did My Own Wedding Makeup—and I Regret It

Ask me what I regret about my wedding, and I’ll tell you: Nothing. Not the fact that a freak October snowstorm plunged Manhattan into a frozen, dystopian Day After Tomorrow scenario that morning, shutting everything down and forcing me to procure my flowers from a deli; not a misjudgement regarding the alcohol content in our signature cocktails so grievous that I spent my first hours as a bride with my childhood best friend holding my hair back while I barfed; not even my decision to get a last-minute bang trim the night before, which left them slightly too short and too blunt, like a toddler’s bowl-cut. But ask me again—and I mean, really press me—and I’ll admit that there’s one thing that I would change. I would have hired a makeup artist.

I’ve had a ring on it for five (happy!) years now, but I thought about this again recently, when a fellow beauty editor posted snaps from her wedding on Instagram in which she glowed gloriously alongside the makeup artist—an actual famous makeup artist—who did her face for the Big Day. She would have looked gorgeous regardless, but I’m sure it must have been supremely confidence-boosting to have someone with actual skills on board. The topic, too, has been in the news recently as rumors circle that Meghan Markle might do her own makeup for the royal wedding, just as Kate Middleton did.

My choice not to hire someone for my own stroll down the aisle was partly penny-pinching, and partly because I honestly thought that it wouldn’t matter that much. I guess I also assumed that having so much exposure to beauty products at work meant that I had acquired macquillage mastery by osmosis. Turns out, I hadn’t.

That morning, after squinting into the mirror and assessing my options, I ended up applying my makeup in the same way I do every day—with maybe a teensy bit more eyeliner—because I wasn’t quite sure how to amp it up without veering Vegas. My wedding was small and thrifty—my now-husband is British and was subject to visa constraints, so we had to act quickly—and the whole ethos was no-fuss. We held our ceremony at City Hall, then toasted (and toasted, and toasted) our future along with a 30-strong mob of friends and family at a downtown restaurant. I wore a $250 TopShop dress (because it was inexpensive, yes, but also because I loved it infinitely more than any pricier gown I tried on); his suit was from Asos. The Royal Wedding, it was not.