Emily Wood
Meet the makeup artist whose work finds beauty and solace in the process as well as the destination.
As we chat over a couple semi-tepid lattes, desperately trying to soak in the last of the waning summer sun from the smoking area of a north London coffee shop, I have a realisation. Emily Wood is lowkey the dream interviewee. From the minute I hit ‘record’ on my voice notes app, the conversation has not stopped, the Stockport-born makeup artist fervently meandering us through the inner workings of her brain at a rate of knots, pausing only to cackle with genuine glee, smile at a passer-by or take a sip of her (now cold) coffee.
Wood is what you might describe as a tour de force. Kind, effervescent, passionate and articulate, she is an individual in the truest sense of the word, fiercely honest and introspective, and unafraid to question her own thoughts and rationale. This individuality has bled into her art, through which she has amassed a significant following online and beyond, her self-applied makeup tutorials — often using bold colours and unorthodox techniques, captured in places of natural beauty — garnering a cult following on TikTok and Instagram. In an industry and art-form often dominated by traditional aesthetic and beauty standards, Wood’s followers clearly resonate with the self-fulfilling approach she takes to her makeup, the freedom with which she works an inspiration to the thousands watching, a reminder that the process itself can be as beautiful as the outcome, and that conformity is not always the only way forward.
Here, we chat to Wood about her love for makeup, the way her art and her mental health interact, and the radical freedom her craft has, after a number of years, brought to her.
Francesco Loy Bell: I’d love to know where your interest with makeup was sparked?
Emily Wood: I think watching my nana, I have always spent a lot of time with her. We also lived with her for a bit when I was about 11. Everyday watching her: repeatedly curling her lashes, applying multiple layers of mascara and pairing it with a black kohl liner eye frame, a stained lip and flushy cheek, which is also my statement look. She’s still alive. Her name is Sylvia. She’s Irish. She’s fucking hilarious…so beautiful and absolutely nuts. She is my muse. I love doing other people's faces, but she’s the only person I really crave doing makeup on.
FLB: It’s interesting that, while I reckon a lot of people would ascribe their passion for makeup as being rooted in pop culture or celeb culture, yours was a lot more personal.
EW: Mine was definitely at home. My mum has always worn the same frosted finish lipstick that is the colour of…like, Tipex, but with an undertone of pink. A few years ago her favourite No7 metallic baby pink lipstick that she has worn since I was a kid got discontinued. It really shuck her [laughs]. She managed to find a close enough replacement and I swear to god, the gorgeous woman bulk bought over 50 of them. She has a drawer in her bathroom that exclusively houses these lipsticks. Hilarious.
FLB: That’s lovely.
EW: But yeah, it wasn't really a special interest until later. I felt quite lost and stuck at the age of 18. I had a boyfriend who I was clinically obsessed with, all my friends were going to uni, and I didn’t know what to do. I started an art foundation course after college which I did not complete. Soon after that, I went and did a short fashion makeup course and I loved it but felt a lot of shame around just doing make up. It felt unimportant.
FLB: That’s interesting you mention a sense of shame back then. Even when we were chatting before this, when you referred to using your own face as a canvas, you sort of apologised for sounding wanky.
EW: I think there's this paradoxical thing I have. I’ll see people commenting, questioning why I am putting certain colours together and getting really, like, raging. Fuming about it. And I just want to reply, like, it's literally just removable pigment baby. I could wipe off like that! And it's gone, gone, gone. But then it’s like, actually, I’m doing art on my face. I’m blending those colours together seamlessly, and often without a mirror and it’s meticulous and intricate. I think because it's my face and not a canvas or an actual, physical piece of art I'm hanging up, I do have… I don't know what that nuance is, but there is something around that shame. Maybe because it's so transient, it feels like it’s not that deep, or I shouldn’t get defensive about it.
FLB: That’s interesting though, because I I don't think quality art necessitates permanence, right? You have installations that are temporary…
EW: I think it’s all the inner child stuff. I’m neurodivergent, I got diagnosed with dyslexia when I was 9 and I’m currently in the process of an AuDHD assessment. I really struggled at school and while I’ve always flourished artistically, there’s that inherent “I’m not doing good enough” feeling. I started doing makeup at 18, it’s always had an undertone of 'is this the only thing I can do,’ I now know that’s untrue but it took me a while to get there.
FLB: I think that’s a feeling shared by a lot of creative kids in general. The way the creative arts are ranked at the bottom of the hierarchy of academia is mad; I have friends who are now pretty successful actors and musicians, who were made to feel like they were useless at school.
EW: Exactly. The feelings we have about ourselves in our formative years really do stick.
FLB: For sure. And I guess even now, within the creative industry, there’s a hierarchy, and make artists can be treated like shit on a set, or be seen as an afterthought, or offered barely any pay.
EW: Exactly. Usually, the brief for editorial — unless you are doing the beauty issue — is ‘no-makeup makeup’. So you end up spending like nine hours on this set making sure the model isn’t too oily. You’re disconnected from it.
FLB: Do you think that contributes to your feeling of shame, or the notion that makeup is, in your words, maybe more trivial.
EW: It definitely does. But also, our brains are problem solving organs, and when they don’t have really gorgeous, juicy things to indulge in, they’re going to ruminate on the negative stuff. For years I was in this obsessive cycle of health anxiety, and also suffered from intrusive thoughts, I managed to get through it while learning a lot about the brain on the way. I read an incredible book called The Imp Of The Mind which explores the silent epidemic of intrusive thoughts. I find this analogy helpful when trying to explain this form of OCD: two people can be walking across a bridge, and both of them will think “I could just jump off this bridge right now” - the one with the obsessive sticky brain will latch on to that thought and over identity with it and try to make sense of it while the other person just carries on with their day, not giving it a second thought.
FLB: Do you think learning about the brain and thoughts more broadly gave you more agency over your own?
EW: Yeah it did, because it led me to radical acceptance. You cannot control your thoughts, and actually the more you try and fight them, the more intense they become. It’s like if someone tells you not to think about a pink elephant; all you can think about is a fucking pink elephant. The same applies to intrusive thoughts, welcome them all and laugh at how absurd your brain is being. It is very difficult getting to that place of acceptance when you’re in it though, because it feels so real and scary and lonely. But that’s why redirecting our thoughts is essential. I know for me, enriching that right side of my brain a non-negotiable. Our brains are just gagging for stimulation so it’s like, give the fucker what it wants and start doing improv classes, join a union, do a makeup video! Really, it all comes back to regulating your nervous system and rewiring your brain through community, art, patience and self-love etc. Having hobbies is beautiful.
FLB: That’s awesome. You’re pretty open about your experiences with mental health and sometimes struggling with it, and you mentioned how your relationship with your work has helped that. You also do a lot of videos where you’re self- applying makeup from, like, a beautiful river or field, or at least some sort of outdoor setting. Do you think using makeup has helped your mental health, both in and of itself and also in the way it’s enticed you to be in nature, and be present?
EW: I can't remember exactly where I first filmed an outdoor makeup video but the one that really landed in my soul was when I filmed a look in the Scottish highlands on a wilderness reserve. You know when you visit somewhere and it immediately feels like home. That’s how I felt on this trip, I was convinced I was about to permanently relocate to Inverness. But that’s where the penny dropped. I was like ok, I love doing my own makeup and I really like being alone. Even though I'm very chatty, I’m an introvert; I restore through being by myself and making art. I’m not even thinking when I’m doing it; I’m just doing. It takes me out of things like health anxiety and into nature and creativity. It’s escapism, I guess.
FLB: Not to be, like, super wanky, but there's that thing called flow state where you’re just going.
EW: No, it’s very that. If I’m feeling it a bit in my brain, my best friend Liz will always tell me to go and do a makeup look, because I always feel lighter afterwards. It expels the anxious molecules out my body when I do it.
FLB: I think often with makeup, the end is the goal. But it feels like for you, the process itself is more valuable almost.
EW: It is. My process often looks really messy and textured, and that's when a lot of people go ‘lol, what the hell are you up to?’ without watching the whole video. It's like, baby, another 10 more seconds and you’ll see me finesse it. I want my approach to makeup to be a reminder that to create a great look, it doesn’t have to be applied in a specific way and you don’t need loads of products. Most pigments can be used everywhere. Everything is multi-use to me. And nearly all makeup mistakes can be repaired.
FLB: I really like that sense of imperfection and candidness that you bring to your work. I think it flies in the face of any notion that makeup is superficial or purely rooted in aesthetic. You mentioned when we were speaking earlier that you like using yourself as a subject because it gives you creative freedom, and you're not beholden to anyone else.
EW: 100%.
FLB: I was thinking about that and how makeup is sort of set apart from other art forms when you're doing it on other people, because art should really be for yourself. I guess when you're having to do it for someone else, and, as you say, having to go on set for nine hours just to make sure someone doesn’t look oily, it must not feel like it’s for yourself at all. Do you find that putting yourself as the subject, and removing all sense of beholdenness to anyone else, makes it more cathartic and freeing?
EW: Using my own face feels really vulnerable some days. It often brings up negative feelings I have around my appearance, like nobody should be looking at themselves as much as I do when I’m editing my videos. I do find some peoples comments fascinating too. I get a lot of people saying things like, you know, when I apply a green eyeshadow up to my brow and pair it with a bright pink lip ‘you shouldn’t wear eyeshadow in this way’ ‘this makes you look old’ or ‘those colours should never be put together’.
FLB: I imagine that must feel pretty shite, right? I feel like the whole point of what you do is the opposite of that.
EW: It’s like, is it not dead obvious that I’m clearly ripping up the rule book here. This isn’t about being palatable. I’m aware and love that my makeup often has a childlike texture to it or an unapologetic, haute, hot mess feel. More is more here.
FLB: How do you find Instagram and TikTok as platforms through which to showcase your work?
EW: I find TikTok freeing. Even though I get my most of my views on there, I feel way less self-conscious. With Instagram it’s different. I think, because I’ve had that account for years and it’s my only one. I have people I fancy on there and some school friends who I haven’t spoken to in years. It feels scary. I logically know nobody gives a shit but it feels exposing posting on instagram. My perfectionism stuff goes nuts and I feel really perceived so I’m quite particular with what I post on there.
FLB: I feel like once your art is in the public domain though, there’s no point trying to have control over the reception to it. It kind of belongs to the public. And I’d guess you’d rather people have a strong reaction either way than be, like, indifferent to it.
EW: I've said this! When someone's really provoked, I quite like it, because it means I’m moving them in some way; at least they’re not apathetic about it. Do you know what I mean?
FLB: For sure. I'd rather someone hate something I write than not give a fuck about it, or not read it. Though I’m sure that won’t be the case with this.
EW: [Laughs] That’s exactly it. I'm trying to set myself free with Instagram too, because it is just fear. Fear of being judged. They're both really helpful platforms that obviously come with a lot of negative things. You have to accept that your work might reach beyond your target audience, and having a ‘fuck it’ approach is imperative.
FLB: That’s awesome. Thanks so much, Emily.
Photography: Frankie Markot
Words: Francesco Loy Bell