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2002-01-01 - 11:39 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "One Tree Hill", U2


I'm feeling very boring (not bored) today. And cranky. Grumble, grumble.

So to cheer myself up I will talk about my latest girly obsession: makeup.


Let me tell you something about me and makeup. I've been playing with it since I was a little kid, maybe eight or so. Somebody gave me a tray that had something like 20 different colors of eye shadow, and believe me I tried them all. They were all hideous pastels, too -- sky blue, sea green, blech. But they were colorful and I loved them.

And yet, I go for long periods of time without wearing any makeup except when I go out, which is how often, twice a month? I hardly wore it at all in college and for years after graduation. Lately I've started wearing some eye makeup because of my glasses -- that tiny-eyes issue I've discussed before -- but if I'm wearing contacts I usually feel fine without it.

As I've mentioned before, it's not that I feel makeup makes me look better. I just love playing with the colors and textures and mixing and matching makeup to coordinate with my clothes. It's a little like painting, I think. I get excited about how the colors work together.


What with all my new clothing purchases this fall, I've been particularly interested lately in coordinating colors. So I decided my 30th birthday present to myself/from Poindexter (same thing, it's all our money) would be to go to a makeup counter and get somebody to make me over and then buy the makeup I liked. I've always wanted to do this but was usually too poor. I wanted to see what I could learn about makeup application and get some good colors rather than dealing with the hit-or-miss of drugstore cosmetics.

This is easier said than done. I was going for a fresh natural look, but for some strange reason, all the people behind the counters at the malls near me looked hideous. Nobody taught them how to blend or what colors looked good on them, apparently. These were the kind of women who scared me when I was little. Borderline Tammy Faye but with better mascara application.

So I'm griping about this to MIL and she tells me that at the Town Center mall in Boca, everyone looks beautiful. Or stunning, as she says. So I'm psyched, and I go.

Um.

Same thing. Women in their fifties and early sixties, mostly, wearing glaringly harsh, dark makeup, looking hideous. What IS this? Can't they tell they look clownish? This is supposed to sell makeup? It doesn't work for me. I don't mind that they're old, but they obviously don't know how to make themselves look good so I'm not going to trust them to make me look good.

I went to Nordstrom, then Bloomingdales, and Saks, and saw NO ONE who cared to apply makeup to her own face in the way I wanted it on mine, and was beginning to think of giving up on the whole deal when I caught sight of this gorgeous, gorgeous black woman at the Bobbi Brown counter, wearing somewhat dramatic but very tasteful makeup that complemented her complexion perfectly.

So I go over there, and kind of look around feeling like a complete dork, and this gorgeous woman (a recent emigree from Trinidad, it turns out) says to me in a charming accent,

"Why do you have that lost look on your face?"

I smiled, and explained the present-to-myself thing, and what I was looking for, and she pulled me over to a chair and made me over.

It was cool. I've never had that much makeup on, but damn did she do a beautiful job. She made me look all peachy-like. The colors were very subtle and brightened up my face.

So after gagging over the prices a little ($35 for a bottle of foundation!), I narrowed things down and made my purchase. When I got home, I was enormously pleased to discover that a little tiny bit goes a very long way with this makeup. I had to watch it because if I put on what seemed like a small amount, it looked caked-on. It costs more, but you get more out of it. And it's longer-wearing than the drugstore stuff I usually buy.

I had thought that I might use this whole thing as a one-shot deal, and buy drugstore makeup in similar colors after this, but the quality of the makeup is kind of addictive ... we'll see. Since I hardly ever wear foundation, that bottle is going to dry out before I can use it all, anyway.


So now, I have this gorgeous makeup, and every morning for the rest of my vacation I spent half an hour in front of the mirror playing with it. Good golly. And then this past Sunday, when we were home, I picked out a brown sweater match my brown glasses and wear with my new flare jeans and my brown boots, and did the whole bit -- concealer, foundation, powder, eyeliner, cream eye shadow, mascara, blush, lipliner, lipstick, gloss and then! And then! I went to ... the grocery store.

It was very exciting, I'll have you know.

I mentioned to Poindexter that it was pathetic to go through all that just to make a trip to the grocery store, especially since the only person who cares about the makeup is me. But he said, "No, that's cheap, and practical." Other people put on makeup to go out and spend money on entertainment; I do it to go buy the food that keeps us alive. Saved us all kinds of money right there. :)


Tangent: There is an inversely proportional relationship between the amount of attention I get from guys and the amount of attention I've spent on my appearance. In college I used to go to one particular fraternity on weekends and get all gussied up. Nobody paid much attention to me. Then one weekend I went over there makeupless, in jeans, in a Monkees t-shirt, and I had to fend them off with a stick. There are many men, apparently, who really prefer the natural look.

So Poindexter need never worry: If I'm putting on makeup, he knows I'm not trying to attract men. :)


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