In March, the monotony is overwhelming.
March is when I make bad choices like bringing my three children to an upscale sushi bar “just because”, but that’s another story.
March is also when I routinely stare at my reflection and wonder what the hell has happened in the last few months…which is how I found myself headed to Ulta.
Ulta is Pittsfield’s new excuse for a “higher end” salon and makeup emporium. I just wanted some refreshing. Something new. I wanted some unguents of youthfulness and vitality. I wanted SPRINGTIME IN A BOTTLE. I do realize that these miracle products do not exist… but why should that stop me from trying to buy them???
I did not want to look like a clown-whore-drag queen. When I told the guy that I wanted a NATURAL looking makeover, I was not expecting him to reach for the dark eye shadow compact with colors such as “desperation”, “dark horse”, and “stray dog “. When I questioned his (obviously) artistic vision, he said, “Just wait. It’ll be fabulous.” So I sat in his chair, for an hour plus, while he shellacked layer upon layer of crap onto my face.
Here’s what I meant by natural. I use a tinted moisturizer. Concealer. lip gloss, eye liner and mascara. Sometimes blush. That’s it, and it seems like a lot as I type it out.
HE used… base coat, primer, foundation, pressed powder, illuminator, eye gel of some kind to make shadow stick, concealer, four shades of eyeshadow, two shades of eyeliner, clear and then black mascara, lip primer and lip gloss. Oh, and two shades of blush, “for contouring”. And then he spritzed my face with what must have been watered down Elmer’s Glue, to “set the look”.
I knew “the look” was Corpse Bride before I even looked in the mirror. And then I looked… and I smiled. Why did I smile? He was so proud, and my mother/teacher instincts kicked in… he might as well have been my three year old son who just fingerpainted all over my face. I couldn’t break it to him that I looked ridiculous. “It’s perfection!” He exclaimed. “It shows off your natural beauty perfectly!!!”
I told him that it was “lovely”.
And then he handed me a receipt to bring up to the cash register. Twenty bucks. The Momma/Teacher left the building. I fumed. I sputtered. I bought NOTHING. I slumped to the register, dodged the “OMGYOULOOKAMAZING!!!!” chorus from the women behind the counter, went out to the car and tried to take it all off with tissues and spit before I even left the parking lot.
Tonight, I’m going to Target for some Oil Of Olay and new lipgloss.
Clearly, I’m not Ulta material. 🙂