Go get a free make-over at one of the beauty counters about once a year. It will give you new ideas, freshen your look (so you don’t fall into a time warp trap) and you’ll probably learn a trick or two.
That is an absolutely fabulous idea, for sure. Everyone should definitely take her advice.
Except for me.
You see, I seem to have the “makeup counter curse.”
I have yet to be pleased with any makeover done at a makeup counter, and I’ve had quite the few. I’ve had them done at high-end department stores as well as places like Merle Norman. And if you can remember Merle Normans, then congrats, you’re a dinosaur just like me!
Usually my first indication that this isn’t going to turn out well is when the counter girl has apparently seen fit to apply practically all products from the line she sells on her face at the same time. It’s too much, I tell you, and it frightens me.
Despite my inner alarm bells, I have proceeded with the makeovers, always with disastrous results.
I consider myself to be an attractive person. I’ve got large blue-green eyes with long lashes, a nicely shaped nose, an oval face shape, and lips that are (to me) the perfect thickness. I don’t really have great cheekbones, but I’ve long come to terms with my non-chiseled-ness. But the makeup artists tend to see a blank canvas upon which they envision me coated with so much product, I don’t even recognize myself when they are through. They always pay compliments to my features, even as they go about doing their best to sabotage them.
After my last visit to Sephora, which was an experiment to see what lip color the employee would steer me toward, I am sort of ambivalent about anyone helping me at all at this point. She applied this very frosty, Barbie-pink lipstick on me, and I wanted to laugh. I’m almost forty, and Barbie-pink doesn’t do me any favors. I wore it twenty years ago, and trust me, it belongs in my past.
So for everyone else, makeovers are a great idea.
Me, not so much. At least until I figure out how to counteract the curse.