Days to wedding: 6
I feel pretty… And mildly traitorous.
I walked into Sephora at the Pru to pick up some eyeshadow primer. My sister, Steel-Toe Heels*, swears by hers, and I take her advice in all things maquillage. Well. I went in on my lunch hour, and it happened that Stila had brought consultants to do free makeovers. I told the nice lady that I was getting married and wanted to see what kind of makeup I should do for the wedding. I had come in there thinking no such thing, of course, but since I was there…
The nice lady explained every step of the process to me so I would be able to reproduce it at home later. And unlike most make-up artists at such stores, she left me looking both fantastic and natural. Usually I leave feeling like a fifty-dollar hooker and wondering just how many Ponds wipes I’m going to need before I look like a person again. (Oddly, this has not curbed my entertainment in the experience in the least.)
This time, I was blown away by my own features. The cheekbones that I cut my hair to showcase–there they are! I was suspecting that morning that I looked rather boyish. Well, you certainly couldn’t say that anymore.
I acquitted myself fairly well on the occasion; besides the item I had come in for, I left with one very nice tinted moisturiser (which I paid for), a lip tint (my very favouritest form of lip colour) and a very becoming lip gloss (which I didn’t). I would have held out against the moisturiser, had it not been for the wedding. And it still cost less than hiring a makeup artist.
I’m a little shamefaced at the amount of pleasure my vanity provides.
But at least my shamed face is a classy, classy face.
* I suppose this calls for a brief explanation. My sister is an engineer. When she’s not clomping around in steel-toed boots, however, she ranges from athlete to girly-girl. Hence the designation Steel-Toe Heels.