Recently in Beauty Category
For me, getting a manicure (and a pedicure) is as much about taking care of my brain as taking care of my hands. I've been going to the same nail place for at least five years- Pastels on 2nd Avenue and 12th Street- though I don't feel guilty if I occasionally stray.
Manicures are definitely a luxury. They are often the first thing to go when I am feeling broke. But they are also an immediate remedy when I am feeling very broke. Nice hands simply make me feel nice.
For a long time, I stuck with the nudes- I was a sheep, and I had been properly inoculated against anything so bold as a color. Pink was cheesy! Never mention blue or green! The only colors close to acceptable were the occasional classic red or rich "vamp." (If Herr Karl approved who are we to disobey?) And I generally hid those on my toes.
But in the past couple of years, thanks to Karl, and LiLo and a host of other flashy types, nail color has become more then variations on Ballet Slipper. It's become rich purple, and jade, and endless variations of colors so dark they all look black. Now I approach the color rack with the same excitement I entered old fashioned candy stores as a child, and as I do enter cheese shops as an adult. "Pick a color?" is right up there with "would you like to taste this?" I thrill to hear it and I want to sample it all.
Nothing is out of bounds! Cantaloupe is delicious in the summer! Shop Til I Drop makes no sense, but I love the pinkness of it! And the endless variations of red are enough to make an apple farmer cry. With all the rich and lovely choices, how is it that now, after a prolonged manicure drought, I find myself with nails the color of essentially, mildewed tile grout? And further- liking it?
The specific color is "Mink Muffs" by beloved Essie. The name is vaguely dirty, and I feel a shred of embarrassment writing it down. I was shown the new spring colors, with names like "Tart Deco" (a sweet Miami orangey-pink). And yet my midwinter mind went straight back to the nineties and brown. I even tried to switch colors mid-mani. "What was I thinking with this dullness?" I wondered. My technician talked me out of it. "This is a good color. Nice." She said. Ok. Why not?
And dear reader, three days later, I love it still! There is no explanation except that my nails, while not nude or beige or off white, are instead darkly colorless. They are speaking in a normal everyday voice, instead of yelling to be seen, or simpering quietly. Or a better analogy- they are not hot, like red, nor cool like black. They are an even-keeled room temperature, and I like it that way. They are, to quote the fairy tale, just right.
Everyone agrees, from dermatologists to the stars, to my long dead, but wrinkle free, paternal grandmother, that moisturizer is the shit. It doesn't have to be expensive- my grandmother used plain old Oil of Olay, as does one of my friends, who also has perfect skin.
Best used right after a wash or shower, moisturizer works, not by "being absorbed into the skin," as so many products claim, (because the very purpose of skin is NOT to absorb things,) but by creating a kind of barrier with water, that makes your outer layer of skin softer and more pliable. This is a good thing because not only does this barrier make you look nice, it maybe even diminishes the appearance of spots and wrinkles by plumping your face up, and if you use one with an SPF, it prevents sun damage.
Ok, enough with the science lesson. Recently I ran out of both my moisturizers at the same time. I was using Karin Herzog at night, and Eminence Stone Crop during the day. The Karin Herzog was starting to annoy me- it has hydrogen peroxide in it, which makes your skin glow, but also bleaches your eyebrows after a while. No, it was time to move on.
I started at the drugstore. Now, here is my problem. When did "moisturizer" stop being "moisturizer" and become... what were they calling it....? Oh, yes, at the drugstore we had "Normaderm Anti-aging Hydrating Care". (That's from Vichy, a lovely inexpensive French company.) I was also confronted with "Olay Definity Intense Hydrating Cream" and "Ageless Restoritives Energy Reneweal Day Lotion SPF 15." It is me, or are these things downright congressional? Like, what does "Definity" even mean?
The expensive lines are worse. These were my favorites (just the names- I didn't try any of em): "Primordiale Skin Recharge Cream", "Hydra Feel Unctuous Creme", "Dior Capture Totale Haute Nutrition Creme" and "Skin Cavier Luxe Creme." And honestly, I for one, would never want to put something called "Guerlain Orchidee Imperiale Fluid" on my face! It just sounds dirrrty. Or "La Prairie Cellular Cream Platinum Rare". Which is fine, because it's 1000$! It's like they just took fancy words and put them together. It's rare! It's platinum! It's cream! All for a bit of mineral oil.
In the end, I settled on some REN Hydra-Calm Global Day Cream, because it was all natural and it smelled nice. But it's still just moisturizer.
So I learned something very interesting recently. And I am happy to share it with you. Are you ready? Because I know this small piece of information is going to change your life...
The people who work in the makeup department at Barney's work for the store, not the brands.
You're disappointed with me? That didn't just totally rock your world? Hmmm. Well then, let me go on. Perhaps you will find elucidation in the explanation.
I have not worn makeup of any sort during the day for many years now- probably since 2000. Recently, there was a large occasion when makeup was called for, (fine, my own wedding,) and so I set out with a valued friend, Katie, who is wise in such things, to obtain some. She directed me to Barney's, where she knew that there was an Armani counter.
I have had department store makeovers in the past, most recently at the Benefit counter at Bloomingdales in SoHo. I left looking like a drag queen version of Tovah Feldshuh, with an inch of foundation, too much mascara, heavy blush, and thick shiny eye makeup. I bought a bunch of stuff, spending a minor fortune, almost none of which I ever touched again. So I was not completely looking forward to the repeat experience. Katie took me strongly by the arm, and steered me to the Armani kiosk.
"She needs makeup. For her wedding. She never wears it, so it should be light, and she has a tendency to shine." Katie informed the man at the counter. I looked at Katie with my jaw on the floor- I never thought I had a tendency to shine before. The little counter man, who I could see was wearing some white eyeliner, appraised me with a cool eye, and nodded.
"I see what you mean," he told Katie. I was tempted to leave, but instead climbed up into the chair. There were mirrors everywhere, and I was forced to contemplate every tiny blemish and wayward hair on my skin, as the man set to work. Soon, I had three different kinds of foundation streaked over my face. The first Armani one was too heavy. The second was too powdery.
"Close you eyes, I have the perfect thing," He said. With a steady hand and fat brush, the man wiped something over my entire face. It felt wonderful-cool and creamy. I opened my eyes, and my blemishes, which had screamed and erupted under the other stuff, seemed to have completely smoothed out, as if by magic. My skin was as flawless as it is in my imagination.
"What is this?" Katie cried, grabbing the small glass jar of potion. "You're getting it. That's final." She fixed an arched eyebrow on me, but I didn't need convincing. It was Chantecaille Future Foundation, in case you are curious about the magic and all that.
I left the store that day with the foundation, a concealer, a powder, and a lipstick, none of which were by the same company, all of which I use all the time. Instead of having that feeling of getting ripped off that often accompanies a department store makeover, I felt like I might actually LIKE wearing makeup again. And I felt like I got to try everything. Take that, Bloomingdales.
So on a whim yesterday I got a blue manicure. The accurate polish name is O.P.I Russian Navy. I have a thing for the communist military I guess. Wait. If it were a communist color, I guess it would be called Soviet Navy. And maybe more in the red family? So perhaps the evocation here is more Czarist? 'Cause the current Russian Navy is not exactly a cause celebre. Remember the Kursk?! Either way. My nails are now blue. Comments? Criticisms? Further thoughts on the Soviet military establishment?
I found myself at a meeting at a publishing company last week, with a lovely young editor. We were chatting about my days at a glossy magazine in the last century, and I said that I loved good grooming as much as anyone. Then I got home, looked in the mirror and thought to myself: "For shame!" Clearly I did not love grooming as much as even Marko, my parents' long haired German Shepard who cries like a shi-tzu when he has to go to the groomer
My hair was scraggly, and my eyebrows were big. My skin was smoothish, and blotchy. My nails looked OK, only slightly chipped from a recent manicure, but, wait, what is that over there... wait...ouch... I think I got it. It was a reminder to me not to mention good grooming when I myself am not well groomed that day.
I am no better groomed today. But I know I am not going to leave the house. Ha!
Just thought I'd share.
So I am writing this book, a YA novel, if you must know. And it happens to take place in London in the 1870's. For research, I have been very reliant on the treasure chest that is The Dictionary of Victorian London. It has all sorts of contemporary articles on every subjects, from charity to neighborhoods. Lee Jackson, the site's proprietor, is my hero.
Yesterday I found this advice on skincare, which I thought I would share:
Secrets of Beauty.
You must well understand the nature of your skin in order to keep your good- looks.
If you have a dry skin, you cannot treat it as you would an oily one. If it is a flabby one, it requires quite different treatment from a firm one. But, whatever it is, it is necessary to be on your guard against the cosmetics that are sold, which corrode and coarsen, and even roughen it with horrible little white pimples, which nothing can cure.
Spring, river, and rain water seem to me the first and best of all cosmetics, excellent for every skin. The rather oily juices of melon and of cucumber suit dry skins. Strawberry-juice is good for greasy skins. An infusion of lavender or of marjoram will give tone to a soft skin.
Nevertheless, one must not overdo such remedies. They should never be used daily, [-269-] at the cost of losing their effect after a time.
All treatments should be interrupted for some days from time to time. Our bodies quickly become accustomed to medicaments of all kinds, which then cease to be efficacious.
A faded face (dry skins fade the soonest) will regain some freshness by using a lotion of which the following is the recipe. This lotion softens the epidermis:-
Boil some crumb of bread and roots of mallow in filtered rain-water. When the water is a little reduced, strain it through a clean white cloth, then add a good proportion of yolk of egg and some fresh cream. Stir it well, and perfume it with orange-flower-water.
This lotion has to be made fresh every time it is used. It does not do to apply it even the next day, as it will have turned sour.
Plantain-water is equally to be recommended.
I went up to Barney's with my sister last Saturday. I had heard a rumor that if you spent $175, you got a big big big free gift with purchase, and I am that sucker. I love free beauty products more than anything. I had to buy RC his Sharp's anyway, and Barney's is one of the few reliable outlets. I also figure that between my sis and I we could easily spend that much.
Let's just say the rumors were true. We actually ended up in the Men's Department, because we were getting the shaving stuff, but you know what? It worked out better for us. They were so excited to help girls in the boys department, they gave us both the women's gift AND the men's. (RC was HAPPY!) Robin got some shampoo and conditioner, and I got the loveliest Acqua di Parma fragrance. But more on that some other time.
We couldn't wait to get home and see what goodies there were in our great new bag of treasure. We split it up, and there was Kanebo, Cle de Peau, Remede, YSL, Annick Goutal. Standouts were a large bottle of Nars Body Glow, which I already love, but never want to spend actual money on, and two full lipsticks. One is a great deep matte red by Vincent Longo, called Fore-Plush. It will be great for acting out all those Olsen Twin fashion dreams. The other was a glamourous shimmery nude, Super Nova by Chantecaille. I wore it all weekend. Did I mention I never wear lipstick? (It just gets on everything!) But I love getting it for free!!!!
I am carefully trying each product. Tomorrow I will tell you what's worth actually buying, what you should sample, and what you can give away.
My nails were looking atrocious. I have been on financial lockdown, and sadly, one of the things that had to go were regular mani/pedi's. But last week when RC said "My girlfriend used to have such nice hands and feet!" I caved. I had to!
I didn't go to my usual place. It was cold, and there is a place closer to my home that does a $22 mani/pedi special. Nice right? I thought, hmmm, if they do a good job, this could become my regular spot. I'm like a drunk going to a new bar. I'll easily be disloyal at the right price.
I knew something was off when she was working on my toes. Granted, they were in a state of vile disrepair. But it was cold out, and my feet were very tender, and OW! that cuticle pusher HURT! I kept pulling my feet out of her hands, but she would just grab them, like misbehaving fish, and slap em back down.
The manicure station is where things got really weird. One of my BIGGEST pet peeves is when you say "Please don't cut my cuticles. Just push," and your manicurist says "Just push?" and you nod yes, and then they proceed to SLAUGHTER your skin, cutting off every last tendril. There is nothing worse.
When she started in, I said "NO! Please! Just push!" again. And she repeated it back to me, and kept cutting. I was almost miserable.
But, there, in front of me, my nice nails were emerging. Under the table, my feet looked great. I held my tongue and let the lady do her work. We were applying the second coat when the truly odd thing happened. She mussed my left forefinger. Like any professional, she took out here nail polish remover and began removing. Then she applied the base coat. But instead of moving on, and coming back to it, she began blowing on it, in an attempt to get it to dry. And I am not talking a lady like breeze. This was a full on Big Bad Wolf huff and puff.
"PUFFFFFF" she went.
"HUFFFFF" she blew. I am not exaggerating when I say, I could smell her breath! I get the shivers just mentioning it! ICK! Like this wheezing was really going to help my varnish dry faster! I basically closed my eyes and let her finish. I knew I was very close to being done, and suddenly the bitter cold weather was a blessing. It meant my polish would dry faster, and I could get the heck out of there.
And of course my polish chipped with in a day. I have learned my lesson. Walk the extra block. It's worth it. What would you have done?
