We are in a shopping centre in Toowoomba,
looking for clothes that might help us stay warm during our impending UK trip
when it happens. I stop for just a second too long when the man selling makeup
in one of those middle-of-the-aisle shops tries to talk to me. I say to
Boyfriend, “hang on, do you mind if I just…” and suddenly my life is no longer
in my control.
The man takes me by the hand, “let me show
you how good it is” he says in an accent I can’t pick and then, look down, look
up, I am sitting down in one of those makeup chairs and Boyfriend is making
“what is happening?” eyes and I am making “I’m not really sure” eyes and the
makeup guy is making “ca-ching!” eyes and we all silently acknowledge that I’m
about to spend a lot of money.
“Do you have dry or oily skin?”
I have neither but I don’t want to seem
rude, so I tell him that it is dry. He gives me some moisturiser to put on as I
silently contemplate why I think it would be rude to say, “hello my skin is kind of ok?”
Then he examines my face and chooses a
shade of foundation that will go with it. This is the real reason I stopped
long enough for this to happen in the first place. I’ve never bought foundation
before (not real stuff, anyway) and I want to stop looking like an incompetent
child when I paint my face for special occasions.
He begins to apply the crushed up rock
(mineral foundation grrrrl) to one side of my face and I try not to stare at
his nose pimple that is basically 100% in my eye line. About 2 minutes in I
start to panic that he’s going to leave me half made up unless I pay him and
then he makes that exact joke and I am relieved, but also completely aware of
how much I am being had right now.
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| I googled "make up half face" and was pleased with the results. |
He’s finished, and he uses a handheld
mirror to show me small sections of my face. “You see how blotchy it is on this
side? How smooth it is on the other?” Yes, thanks guy. In truth the makeup is
really nice, and feels excellent and he also drops in a few lines about not
being tested on animals etc. but still, the shame tactics are A+.
After evening me up, we begin to discuss
blush. I tell him I have literally never worn blush in my life (I don’t think,
anyway) and, undeterred, he goes on a small rant about how ‘feminine’ is too
feminine when it comes to blush. I don’t want pink, oh no, he says, that is
much too feminine, but I’m also much too young for the darker, redder shades,
which are too mature for me. I am an inbetween lady, it would seem. It’s a good
thing I’ve got this dude here to police how feminine I should be, or else I’d
get it all wrong.
No but, I probably would, let’s be real.
He settles on a “plummy” shade. And not
only is there no “Hum Drum” shade, I embarrassingly don’t even make this
connection myself until Tim points it out on facebook later. Pimple man shows
me how you can mix the blush with clear lip balm to make a lip balm that
perfectly matches your blush. It is like watching a wizard at work. Is this how
other women live? Like, is makeup this cool all the time? Do you all have
matching lips and cheeks? That’s awesome.
Finished with painting my face, the pimply
man collects together all the items he wishes to sell me (foundation, blush, 2
brushes) and generously throws in a free pot of the lip balm so that I, too,
can be a wizard. He hurriedly rattles off how much this little pile will cost
me and I know that now I must speak up.
“Thanks but I think I will just take the
foundation and one brush please”.
His smile stays in place, but the free lip
balm mysteriously disappears when he is putting my things into a paper bag.
Somehow, even after money has changed hands, he is still not done with me. The
guy is a master. Now he is showing me a nail buffer, now he is filing my pinkie
nail, now he is moisturising my hands. He is walking me over to *another*
shop... “NO!” I almost yell, “I have to go, thank you so much.” I disentangle
myself from his shop, find Boyfriend, and basically run away.
3 stars
