Saturday, November 08, 2008
46 Year-old Faces
Recently I was shopping with my 22 year-old daughter, and we meandered into a Sephora-like store. I was drawn to a display of that certain makeup which I will discreetly call "Naked Rocks." You know the one I'm talking about, the one with the infomercials where people swirl and tap and dance and sing about the wonders of this miracle non-foundation powdery foundation.
I'm not daring enough to order makeup, of all things, right off of TV. That's right up there with leaving your dryer running when you leave the house or unbuckling your seat belt and getting your mail from your car while on the wrong side of the street--dangerous, very dangerous. Sometimes I just go crazy like that, but ordering makeup off of TV? No way.
Anyway, here it was, right in front of me, and I was interested to see if the miracles could be performed on me. I wanted to dip my toe in the Bethesda pool, so to speak. Or my whole face.
Instantly, a beautiful young thing asked to help me, and I asked her if she could fix me with the Naked Rock makeup, and she said, "But do you want to be healed?" No, she didn't really say that. She said, "Yeah. I'll try," which didn't do a lot for my already fragile ego.
Then she got some brushes and Naked Rock powder and swirled and tapped and applied. And then she buffed. And buffed. And buffed. Until I shined like the top of the Chrysler Building!
Finally, she reluctantly handed me the mirror. I literally gasped. My skin looked like this:
I said, "I don't ... know ... what ... to ... say."
She said, "[nothing]", which is code for: "What went wrong? I am so fired!"
So a slightly older beautiful young thing came over to see the devastation up close. Eyes were darting. Whispers. Raised eyebrows. Scrambling for remover. Oh, it was so bad.
The first one said, "Yeah, this is probably not for you. Megan, the side of her face where I didn't apply this actually looks better than the Naked Rock side."
Megan looked mortified. I don't think either of them had ever really been up close and personal with skin older than 40, because Grandma-skin doesn't count.
So they swabbed me clean and tried to sell me a whole other line of medicine water, sort of one step up from spackling cement.
Therefore, I'm still using L'oreal makeup because if I use it enough years, I'm sure I'll look just like L'oreal spokesperson Andie McDowell, who is stuck at 33, even though she's 50. Poor thing.
I'm just sure of it, Toto!