Judging A Makeup Artist By The Makeup They Wear

Okay, so maybe, JUST maybe I’m a tinsy bit of a closet control freak. Just maybe. I’m learning this about myself the older I get. I don’t like to pass my work off because by the time I explain everything I could have done it myself, I like doing things a certain way, I like the way I drive over other people, I mean there are just certain things that I like to steer and have complete control over. Makeup and hair being two of my most important.

So I can do basic makeup like a champ. I can turn myself from a grizzly bear when I wake up to a functioning looking human being that won’t make children cry. But when it comes to taking day makeup and turning it into a more dramatic nighttime look well, it makes me want to bang my head against the wall. I’ve tried, I’ve REALLY tried. I’ve read the articles, I’ve gotten “The Smokey Eye for Dummies,” I’ve watched videos on YouTube and NOTHING helps me. I end up just looking like I did my makeup for work only with a slightly darker eye. Hmph.

So this weekend I had a party to go to and didn’t want to have to worry about fighting with my makeup in the bathroom, getting stressed out and having to pour myself a cocktail before the party even began. I just wanted a smoky eye, the rest I could handle on my own. So I marched myself into Sephora and had one of the girls show me how to do the smoky eye. Okay, some background information. 1. I have blue eyes, 2. Gold and browns make blue eyes pop, 3. Sephora happens to be promoting the Pantone color of the year which is Tangerine. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.

I also hate to admit this, but I hardcore judge a woman who does my makeup by how she does her makeup. If you’re a makeup artist, your makeup is flawless, beautiful, makes you want to know how she did all that jazz. It might be a little outlandish even, but cool enough to make you want to try it on yourself. If you look like a clown, I’m kindly walking away. The girl I got paired with was very simple looking, sweet and excited to show me how to do a smoky eye, but was over the top eager to use gold to do the smokey eye, which should have been red flag number 1, but since I use gold as my everyday eye color, I went along with it.

The thing that rocks about Sephora is that this whole shabang was completely free. I stood in the middle of the store as this kind girl applied makeup on me as she explained what she was doing. But red flag number 2, and when I should have pretended I left a credit card in another store or something, was when I saw her dip the brush in dark brown eye shadow and go literally around my eye brow with it. Uhhhh … what? My best friend was with me getting fake eyelashes applied and the look on her face the more this girl applied more and more shadow onto my face was priceless. If expressions could talk hers would have said, “holy shit … you look like a tranny mess.”

The worst part is knowing you look like shit and when they say, “All done! Go to the mirror and see how fantastic you look, girl!” Ugh. Balls. The minute my eyes locked with my reflection I felt a mixture of shock, disappointment and sadness over what a hot tranny mess I had become. Brown eye shadow like on my temple and on the side of my eye, a gold color that was waaaaay too close to tangerine for my liking on the top of my lid. Sweet. Christ. So in an instant I had to bottle up that mixture of awful emotions, look in the mirror, smile and say, “OH EM GEEEEE, thank you so much … it is exactly what I wanted … EEEE!” I didn’t want to hurt the poor girls feelings at all because it was free and she did work hard to show me had to apply this tranny hot mess look. But apart of me wondered how she thought this looked beautiful in any way, shape or form.

So after I thanked her in an over-the-top fashion, the minute she turned the corner I decided to reexamine my new look and see if I over reacted, which only infuriated me more because I got an up close and personal look at how horrific it truly was. So I quietly asked the woman applying my friends eye lashes for some makeup remover and tried to make myself look like, oh you know, myself again. That’s the thing, I was quiet about my disdain for my new look, but even if I paid for it, I would have felt HORRIBLE telling her I hated it. I know how badly it sucks to know you went in the totally wrong direction of what someone wanted. So I hid for fear I would hurt this poor girls feelings and started removing the dark brown eye shadow from my eyebrow region. Ugh, I mean that was the part that made me the most upset. I think the girl applying the eyelashes thought I was cra-cra because I just kept looking in the mirror saying, “Really? Why? Come on. Ugh. REALLY?!”

Let me make this clear, I am not hating on Sephora or that kind girl who showed me the wrong way to smoky eye land. A lot of other places make you buy like $50 worth of merchandise before touching your face. So I’ll give Sephora props for this service. You get what you don’t pay for. I’m just saying I’ve found only ONE person in my existence who has done my makeup with minimal explanation of what I wanted and made me look like a rock star. Others have done an awful smoky eye with sparkly red, Judy Garland lips (hello junior prom), another woman put pink pink blush on me with like a nude lip gloss (I mean, what?) It truly is makeup roulette when working with an artist.

Ugh. Makeup. What a fabulous bitch.

Comments

  1. NORDSTROM, baby. NORDSTROM.

  2. That is actually the place where you have to spend $50 in merchandise to get your makeup done now! Whomp whomp.

  3. Jesus Luises – I love you! I totally relate to your story. Get this. This past Christmas, I went shopping in Santa Barbara with my Mother and Sister in Law. Being newbies to the makeup world, they decided to hit up Sephora to see how it’s done. Fine by me! I was seriously in my element – squirting stuff, poking stuff, filling my little basket…and then I heard my name called from across the store and looked up to see them both looking damn near ridiculous. Their makeup artist, whose makeup was dreadful, stood next to them beaming with pride. I hesitated. What do I do? Lie? Lie to the woman who birthed the man of my dreams? I ended up pausing briefly and saying something vaguely complimentary, through clenched teeth. Luckily, because Mom in Law is keen and perceptive, she got the picture. Meanwhile, another salesperson kept trying to make me buy a specific eyeliner to compliment other products I was getting. I have shopped at Sephora hundreds of times and this chick was the most persistant salesperson I have ever experienced at a Sephora. Finally, after 6 conversations, where I smiled and laughed and politely declined her sugguestion, I finally told her flat out. “If this is indeed the pencil you are sporting, I don’t want it. Merry Christmas.”
    I’ll tell you another thing. I guess I’m awful, but I not only judge them on their makeup, but… other things. If you are 40 and with feathers glued in your hair or have fat rolls peeking out from under your black t-shirt, you will not be touching my face. I know, harsh.

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