The Work Doesn’t Always Come Easy: The Truth About Being a Makeup Artist
People see the glam. They see the red carpets, the TV sets, the celebrities, the lights. What they don’t see is the waiting. The uncertainty. The quiet months. The invoices. The dues.
I’ve been a makeup artist for 10 years. I’ve worked on major productions. I’ve been on national television sets. I’ve been labeled a “celebrity makeup artist.” And I’ve also stood in retail stores debating whether to pick up extra shifts just to stay afloat. Both can exist at the same time.
The myth of steady work
One of the biggest misconceptions about this industry is that once you reach a certain level, union, celebrity, television, the work becomes consistent. It doesn’t. I’ve been a union makeup artist for about three years now. I pay my union dues every other month. And I haven’t booked a single union job yet. Being union means access, not guarantees. You’re paying to stay in the room, not to be called into it. And when those calls don’t come, it can feel defeating, especially when the bills still due. Still, I stay optimistic.
When pride becomes pressure
There’s a strange stigma that happens when you’ve worked big projects. Once people start calling you a “celebrity makeup artist,” there’s this unspoken expectation that you should never take a step back. Going from $500–$800 a day to $21 an hour messes with your head, not because the work is beneath you, but because your ego is trying to protect a version of you that no longer fits the moment. But work is work. Survival is survival. And longevity requires humility.
The illusion of connections
People also assume that if your friend gets a job, they can just bring you on. That’s not how this industry works. Most artists get hired as help, not department heads. And when you’re not the key, you don’t have the power to bring others with you. Production teams are tight. They reuse the same people. It’s not personal, it’s just how production protects itself.
Why I stay
Because despite all of this, I’ve stayed consistent for 10 years. This industry isn’t built for the weak, the impatient, or the prideful. It’s built for those who can hold two truths at once: I am successful, and I am still building. And both are okay. If you’re reading this and feeling unseen, you’re not behind. You’re just in the middle, and the middle is where real artists are made.
