My sister Diana had arranged to have my hair and make up done from a few weeks ago, at the time it sounded very convenient. Diana is not much about details, hadn't spoken with anyone else who used either of these women, saw no photos of their work. I myself fall short of the follow up, so in truth this is all my own doing. I was asked to be on time and have my face clean and hair washed by 6am. The less asked of me the better.
Who would have thought I'd have to come to Israel to have my make up done by someone from Queens, and hair by a girl from Monsey? My sister beamed with excitement as the hair dresser curled and put the finishing touches on her locks. I sat down, introduced myself to Angie. She complimented my skin tone, coloring, and youthful glow. She began to massage my face with moisturizer. It felt great. I told her that I didn't want heavy foundation and concealer, she completely got it.
"Do you have a certain look you want me to give you?" Angie asked.
"Natural beauty? Nice lashes, etc." I answered.
"What color is your dress?"
She seemed to be asking all the right questions. I took a deep breathe in comfort feeling that even though I was far from home, the language of beauty was universal. I noticed the color palate for the eye shadow she was using looked like pharmacy counter goods, but I wasn't going to be a snob today. As long as she knew what she was doing, I'd be fine.
"Now I'm gonna ask you to do something crazy. I need you to pucker up like you're gonna suck on a lemon." Angie said, big and animated.
In one blink I went from being reasonably confident in this hired professional, to seeing how much she appeared to be like Bette Midler in a sitcom. I looked around the room slowly, there were no hidden cameras, no TV hosts popping in the window or doors. It was just me, my sister, Queens, and Monsey. Apprehensively I stuck my tongue out and sucked in my cheeks, looking like an angry peacock, ready to attack. Queens took her blush brush and grazed it against my cheeks.
"WHEW!! Look at that, look at those cheekbones." Prided the Bette Midler lookalike.
| Neutral is nice? |
Her finished work was the me that walked in at 6am, only I was painted beige. My coloring was somewhere between ecru and eggshell, an acceptable color for a wall, not a human face. Apparently Queens didn't believe in the beauty of eyelashes either, because she skipped the mascara completely.
Angie was American, so a mistranslation didn't make sense. This must be her idea of a 'party face.' Now with no confidence in her tools, and even less in her ability to beautify my sleepy face, I was only sure of one thing-that I'd need do my make up once she was done. I asked for natural, but got neutral.
My sister watched from a distance, her mouth closed but her eyes belly laughing at me in the mirror. When I commented that my face could use a little more color, she came back at me with, "You don't want to go walking into one of the holiest place in the world looking like a hooker." No, I didn't want to walk in anywhere like a hooker, I also didn't want to show up looking like I'd been drained of four pints of blood.
| Before or After? |
When she claimed she had finished and I went to pay her, I ran a hand through my hair feeling damp and wet at the back of my neck. When I brought it to her attention she looked me quizzically, "but it's near your scalp." Almost no visible color in my face and wet hair, it was deja vu of coming out of the shower an hour earlier.
What I've taken from this experience is different people have different ideas. I say tomato you say a darker color in the eye crease makes one a whore. I'll respectfully agree to disagree and never use someone abroad if I haven't seen samples of their work.
Now all I have to do after I stop laughing and calling myself a tramp as I brush some color on my face....is get the rest of the family ready (by the way, they're all still asleep).
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| "You don't want to look like a hooker at one of the holiest places in the world." |
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