Can you describe your first experiences with making yourself look good?

I remember my first serious date at about thirteen, my brother told me to put aftershave on my balls to make em smell good :-/ I was dumb back then…….

My mother taught me how to comb my hair and helped me learn to choose my own clothing.
My father taught me how to shave.

I still clean up pretty well.

My grandparents raised me my first 5 years and they indulged me in any and all girliness I wanted- which was to be exactly like my grandmother who looked like a glamorous movie star. I was taught how to sit and walk when dressed up, how not to mess us the atrocious but fancy crunchy hairdo’s given me, how to wear just a fingertip of cologne in a few spots.

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I was around 5yrs old & was being spruced up for the kiddie school christmas party. We got to dance with the girls & stuff, so my mum clad me in a purple corduroy jacket with matching belt. A splash of cheap pissy after shave &.......I looked like the dog’s bollocks.

My mother taught me how to comb the giant ratball at the back of my neck before school.I had very long hair and would go to bed with it wet.XD
My mother could put lipstick on perfectly without a mirror and I guess I learned from her.She had a closet full of pretty clothes,but it was my dad who was the real clotheshorse.He knew how to dress!He was tall and just looked very elegant in a suit.He told me that he thought ladies look best in dresses and well-tailored suits.I agree.
His dad bought both my sister and I our first suits.I still have it…and still like suits!

Learning to shave with a cut throat razer. My dad taught me. He used a rose scented shave cream which I hated at the time but now I always have a tube of the stuff knocking about.

My super successful bachelor multi-dating Dad used to show me how to shave his face and wax his hair when I was aged 10. “This is how to get the ladies chasing you, Son!”

I was a late bloomer and didn’t need to shave my budding furry moustache at all until I was aged 17–18. I just hacked away at it with an old disposable razor, no cream, just water and care. I still do that because I’m a bit of a noob like that, it looks fine and I only have to do it once every few weeks anyway. Man-child!

By age five I was aware of nail polish, and that my mom had a hot pink one. I brought it to kindergarten one day and gave all the girls manicures during recess. My mom got a lot of phone calls that night. I thought we looked beautiful!

I loved to play dress up. My mother got me a multi-colored make-up palette to augment my play. I’d make disguises and think no one would ever recognize me. Then I’d realize I was too short to be taken for anything but a child.
I was in no hurry to wear make up for real. My mom helped me choose an appropriate lipstick when I went to high school. She made all my clothes for me, but the last two years in high school I got an allowance that was to cover everything I needed. I learned on my own what worked for me. I didn’t really care much what anybody else did.

Before I started middle school, I moved from one area to a different one. I had never really cared what I looked like before that, because my friends liked me the way I was, and I only cared about the people who liked me. (Maybe I didn’t care because I was a pretty cute child.)
I was starting this new school, and I wanted all these new people to like me. More than that, I didn’t want an abrupt change in social status. Suddenly I was taking more care of my appearance. My hair found itself combed, my teeth found themselves brushed, with no encouragement.
I suppose insecurity always makes me take extra care. However, never again have I been that insecure about my appearance.

I kept the entire delivery room on hold until my hair was right.

I think my mum and dad would have taught me how to brush my hair? I learned how to apply make-up by watching my much older sister (and then tried it out for myself ruining her lipstick and the like in the process. Did I get in the shit for that!!). Then I just experimented myself. My sister also taught me how to apply eye shadow and the like when I was about 13.

Another life experience in the military. Damn, I was one sharp looking sum bitch in dress greens. Back before BDU’s came out I opted for the discontinued cotton fatigues and had the cleaners starch them to a crisp finish so hard it was a job breaking new starch. Just forcing my legs into the pants was a deal. After a while the new OD green fades to a more lighter green and that’s when the starch really takes. I wore airborne jump boots and the ball caps called “Graf hats”. Attainable only to those who did tours in Grafenwoeher, Germany.
Now I just wear whatever I grab in the dark with holes, wrinkles and paint splatters and out the door I went.

Trial and error. I had to learn to comb my own hair and all that on my own once I was in 3rd grade. I’m still not very good at braiding. I can do the overhand braid down the back of my head, but not the underhand one.

I didn’t start wearing make-up until I was 18, and again, trial and error in getting that right.

It took a few years longer to hone my clothing style. I wouldn’t say I was a person who knew how to dress well until my 30s.

I don’t remember really, but I did make a conscious effort to show my kids how to brush their teeth then teaching my son to shave; by then he was already giving me tips on how to dress right. Hair has never been an issue for me.