Making Up is Hard To Do

Day #7 of 31 Days of Storytelling

When it comes to make up I am a "make it look natural" kinda gal.

Most days I don't even wear it.

I rarely wear lipstick,

I am a lip balm kinda gal.

Because there is nothing worse than having chapped lips and NOT having lip balm to soothe them.

That is so not true, but in the moment if FEELS like it is true.

So when I saw tinted lip balm at the store I thought to myself:  brilliant!

Not brilliant.

I grabbed it during one of those chapped lip panic moments and applied it (without a mirror)

liberally.

After much reaction, my daughters finally pointed me to a mirror where the Dark Knight Joker was looking back at me.

This image is why I never saw that movie.

S-C-A-R-Y!

Side note:  When my daughter, McDaniel, was in 4th grade she had a student teacher who dressed like the above Joker (complete with smeary make up) for their Halloween party at school. 

Me to him:  "You are terrifying."

Him to me:  "Thank you!"

He is no longer at the school.

That is all I have to say about that.

Not long after my lip balm incident, McDaniel rifled through my purse desperate for chapped lip relief

(what is WRONG with us and chapped lips?!) 

and made the same mistake.

We caught it on film.

I have NO IDEA where she got her silliness.

I need to throw that tube away.

Why did I bring this all up?

Well, there are times, like when I go out with the hubby, when I want it to look like I have make up on.

Just a hint.

Not stage make up, 

but a tasteful pop of color.

I knew I needed help.

I turned to my friend Carisa.

She loves makeup.

In fact, her idea of a fun Friday night is hanging out at Sephora and letting them "make her over".

I have to say, her make up always does look nice. 

And it suits her.

That's what I want.

Make up that suits me. 

Right colors, 

right amount, 

right result. 

Simple math.

But I failed to figure into the above equation that Carisa brings out my silly.

Right to the surface.

With little to no effort on her part.

We giggle. 

A. 

Lot.

Even this picture makes me laugh. Because I know if I were there
she'd have me giving a thumbs up too and I wouldn't even know
why were doing it. But I would be having a BLAST!
She is fun that way.

Fast forward to me sitting down in the make up chair at Sephora

with the haunted house lighting 

(woof! not flattering) 

and a woman ready to apply lipstick to my lips.

"Be normal," she said.

So I burst out laughing and shot snot out of my nose onto her hand.

"Did you just shoot snot on my hand?" the woman asked.

I assumed it rhetorical.

I can't remember exactly what Carisa said but something to the effect of,

"That's as normal as you're going to get with her."

Bless the Sephora woman's heart, she stuck with me.

And made Carisa walk to the other side of the store.

Which only made me giggle more.

She applied a very neutral looking lipstick to my face.

Very safe.

A little terra cotta pot like in color.

But very me.

Carisa, again I am paraphrasing, said,

"No, no, never, never, ain't no way. 

That's what she normally wears. 

She needs a pop of color."

The woman said, "She won't wear a pop of color, I can tell. This is fine."

This from a woman whose name I didn't know, who had seen my face for all of 3 minutes.

They argued for awhile like I wasn't there.

Carisa suggested a color with a little orange in it.

The woman nixed it.

So Carisa pulled some out of her purse as the woman walked away to get something else NOT in the orange family.

In ninja like fashion, Carisa, came at me from behind and with what felt like a panty liner, wiped the old color off my lips and quickly smeared orange on my lips.

Sorry to be crude, but that is how my brain processed it. 

It all happened so fast.

I screamed out in panic 

(I am a rule follower).

"Teacher! Teacher!" Remember? I didn't know her name.

She popped her head around the mirror, "Did you just call me Teacher?"

I assumed it rhetorical…again.

She shook her head in disappointment. 

And we all agreed that orange was not for me.

We walked around the store to look for colors of foundation, blush and lipstick.

The store was an assault to my, well, everything.

So much to see, touch, smell and hear.

I couldn't quite figure out the large picture of the woman with zombie-like makeup. Her lipstick was bright red with black just in the center of her lips. There was black smeared all around her eyes.

It was like The Night of the Living Dead.

Not the pop of color I was looking for.

I worried that it was for someone else.

Can you imagine standing next to 
that someone in an elevator?

Seriously! Take a minute and REALLY imagine it.

The names of the make up were, well, unrepeatable.

Honestly, did some suits sit around a conference table and think up these explicit names and then drive home and feel good about themselves?

One tube of lipstick color didn't have a name at all,

but rather a sound.

I won't make it.

There was an older man in there shopping.

Can you imagine asking your husband to pop into Sephora on the way home and get you some @!*# lipstick?

I can't.

Mine can barely handle the word bra said in his presence.

In conclusion, the Sephora woman and Carisa found a great blush, foundation and lip color for me.

And I can say the names out loud of two of them.

She tried to upsell me on the eye shadows but there was so much glitter involved I felt like I could perform at a competitive cheerleading competition.

In the end, she said it was "fun" working with Carisa and I

and asked us to come again.

I assumed it rhetorical.