My mother’s always been a real knockout and loves to get farpitzed (fancied-up) even to walk the eighteen feet down the driveway to the mailbox. Since the whole make-up gene seems to have skipped a generation (and apparently landed on my son, who won’t let me trim his nails unless I paint them red, but that’s a different post), she’s always after me to glam it up a little. When she comes to visit and we take the kids to play in the mud at the playground, she says to me, “You couldn’t wear a little lipstick?”
The truth is, I’ve tried. I apply the eyeshadow, I look like someone socked me with a bag of oranges. I try to line my lips with pencil and fill them in, I come out like the pill lady from Saturday Night Live. I just don’t have the skills.
But here comes Tamara Gold gorgeous Jewess, professional make-up artist and the voice of The Red Lipstick Report. I think she just might be able to help me.
Her instruction on foundation was very helpful this month; I tend to goop myself up so badly I appear to have the kind of skin torn off in horror movies.
“Makeup isn’t brain surgery. It’s another form of creative expression,” Tamara writes on her site.
Oy, that’s my problem, Tammy! I get so creative I look I either end up looking like a drag queen or as if Jackson Pollack got whacked on heroin and went off on my face.
I’m looking forward to learning more, and perhaps, one day, my mother won’t be ashamed to be seen with me.