I’m pretty much apathetic in the face of Photoshop. It’s an annoying (and undeniably rampant) practice for sure, but at this point I’m just like, “duh, nobody looks like that.” It’s ridiculous! But if there’s one variety of photo-altering that really, truly baffles me, it’s in the case of beauty advertisements. Are we seriously supposed to look at an ad and say, “Wow, that foundation looks great, I want to try it,” when the model has not only been subjected to hours of professional hair and makeup but has also been Photoshopped to the point of no recognizable human features? Keep reading »
Unlike orange or tangerine, purple lipstick is a trendy color that works on everyone; you just have to find the right shade. I suggest printing some pictures out (like the ones below) of lip colors you like and take them with you to the makeup counter. This will help narrow down your options and give the person helping you a better idea of what you’re looking for. Read more…
Leave it to the French to come up with a fresh, creative, avant-garde use for a practical product from one of their most iconic brands: conceptual artist Fabrice Hyber crafted a 330-pound, one-meter cube, titled “1m3 de Beauté” (or “One Cubic Meter of Beauty”) of solid Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Pur Couture lipstick in shade 1 Le Rouge. Hyber (who, it’s worth noting, is male) told WWD of his masterpiece, “[Lipstick is] a material that is very supple, especially in a large quantity. The material permanently moves. It is a work that is never finished, which is always evolving. It’s a living oeuvre.” This makes total sense to me, as I know from experience that the buttery Rouge Pur Couture formula tends to make a melty “living oeuvre” out of my stupid face. The sculpture has just gone on show at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris, if you happen to be in the neighborhood. Bring a lip brush. [Elle UK]
There are these women, in Tory Burch flats, with their hair styled, their button-downs starched, and the vents in the backs of their knee-length pencil skirts never rumpled or creased. I know this is true because I see them everyday, slogging along to work, just like me, with their perfectly applied nude lips and their obligatory Longchamps tote.
So as much as I want to believe that such levels of polish existing is as likely as me bumping into a unicorn in CVS, I know better — I’ve commuted beside them in the mornings, quietly mortified. Because, more often than not, I’ve forgotten to apply lipstick before leaving the house, my skirt is clean but wrinkled from sitting on the train ride in, and my own obligatory Longchamps tote — a bid at joining their ranks — is coated in what I am 86% sure is Marshmallow Fluff. (Furtive licking would later prove this to be so.)
It’s not like I’m a slob. I know how to dress for my corporate day job and when I get to the office there’s always a stop at the bathroom to make sure I can pass for business casual. This means: the forgotten lipstick is applied, the cardigan put on, the Fluff removed, the slept-on-it-wet hair pulled back into a clean ponytail, my favorite boots replaced with sensible pumps. By the time I’m done, I’m transformed from who I am into an appropriate, if not stylish, secretary. Keep reading »
I’ve never been big on lipstick. I have thin lips and I also drink coffee constantly, so it seemed like any foray into lipstick would be a waste. But as I get older (and wean myself off caffeine), I’ve taken the plunge into what feels like more grown-up makeup than my usual lip balm, or if I’m feeling fancy, lip gloss. Recently I splurged on Bobbi Brown’s Rich Lip Color in Cosmic Raspberry at Bloomingdales (AKA that flaming pit in which I throw my money). Keep reading »
This morning on the subway, I overheard two men cattily complaining that it grosses them out when women put their makeup on in public. As someone who recently became one of those women, it made me want to whip out an eyelash curler and inflict some acute torture on them both.
Why does this bother people so much? Slate’s Dear Prudence is against public nose-powdering: “you are engaged in private activities they’d rather not be witness to.” A Japanese subway system once campaigned against it: “Please do it at home.”
Or, as the men on my train put it, “I don’t wanna see that shit.” But what “shit,” exactly, are we talking about? Is the acting of applying makeup really so gross? Is it impolite to destroy the fantasy that all women wake up with dark black lashes, rosy-cheeked complexions, no red veins around our noses, and perfectly arched brows? Read more…