Making up for lack of value

I've been burying my nose in graduate essay writing guidelines, trying to figure out the best angle that would mesmerize an admissions officer enough to turn a blind eye to a mediocre GPA (damn those Monday, Tuesday Thursday nite college frat parties senior year -what good have they delivered to me now, other than fading memories of intoxicated glory). So I wrote a contraversial topic on the ironies of arab women and sex (it is a subject that constantly surrounds me, just look at the pornographic arab music videos on TV) but then I thought it would make me sound like a raging feminist that is sexually furstrated, which is not a good thing, and definitely not who I am (except for the sexually frustrated part).

Feeling frustrated, blocked, and completely overwhelmed with pressure, I decided to give in to mother's ridiculous nagging to complete some of her errands. Getting out of the house would be a nice refreshing break, one that I definitley cannot afford, but will nevertheless find rewarding. So I slipped on my casual wear: jeans and a light jumper with of course my standard uniform high heels (I walk like a donkey in flats, even in college I would wash my car with shorts, t-shirt and High Heels)

While I was rummaging through the different stores in the city, and talking to Mother on the phone to understand her requests, a ginger young man, 22 tops, is eyeing me suspiciously and signalled to speak to me. I asked my mother to hold on so that I see what he had to say, he really looked concerned and curious:
Him: it7ibeen il wath3 il 6abee3y? (do you like the natural phenomena?)
CD: Excuse me?
Him: why aren't you wearing any make-up?

It took a 2 minute pregnant silence for me to register that sentence, I immediately turned away and tried to ignore the fact that this man actually stopped me on the street while I was having a phone conversation to say that to me. But mother did not ignore it! She just couldn't resist:
Mother: CD, I heard that! Why aren't you wearing any make-up?
CD: huh?
Mother: If a man stopped you on the street to give you that comment, that means you must look horrendous.
CD: mom, just give me the name of that store so I can get your errands done.
Mother: do you at least have lip gloss in your bag, dab some on your lips right now!
CD: ok, I will, whats the name of the store Mom?
Mother: every year, I buy you all kinds of make-up and you never wear any! Why don't you act like the other girls?
CD: mom, this man is used to seeing clowns with make-up caked on their faces in heaping layers of atrocious colors, of course he's going to comment at me for not wearing any so chill out and give me the name of the store, please.
Mother: you know, all the girls here take make up lessons, and know the names of the best make-up artists, and they wake up early in the morning to have time to apply their make-up, but you're always in a rush. What does that say about you?

Silence.

Then, a pressing question: Is it pure unadulterated vanity that drives these girls to such lengths of beautification...or is it the understanding that their only value is being a sexual object, that leads to behaviors such as strange clown make up, softened voices expressing immense horniness, and highly suggestive yet very tasteless glitter outfits?

Probably both............

CD: Mother, it says that I have confidence, and an immense appreciation for my brain.