February 18, 2006

• Soo I guess I'll just go with this for a while.  It's slightly pink.  I'm not sure if I'm capable of dealing with this much pink for a large amount of time . . . but we'll find out. 

  So today was an exercise in restraint.  Almost.

  I went to Beachwood mall with a friend of mine.  (Beachwood = rich bitch town).  Hence the mall is an experience.  It can make people rather uncomfortable.  I *love* it.  It has my favorite store. 
  

  
  

  It's just a fantastic place.  I generally just go to play.  But today had a purpose . . . we were looking for makeup for L to wear for her wedding.  She's getting married next month . . . in Vegas.  Her wedding dress?  Is black.  (hell yeah)  So I knew she would love this place.  It carries all the fancy brands . . . Urban Decay, Hard Candy, Benefit, NARS, you name it.  I generally don't spend money in this store (though I want to . . BADLY) . . . because my money would only buy me a tiny brush, or tester eyeshadow or something.  But, as I showed L my favorite eyeshadow. . . .
  

  
  The color is similar to the one on the left. . . just a little darker. . with lots of sparkles in it.  Called "Midnight Cowboy Rides Again".
  

  L is a bad influence.  I bought it.
  Is it strange to love an eyeshadow? I love it.  L.O.V.E. it.

  At this point we were approached by a store clerk.  Tall handsome black man, with gorgeous eyes.  A professional makeup artist.  (and what a bummer, he was gay).  So I say . . . "if you were me . . . what lip color would you wear for an 'every day to evening' look?".  (see . . . see how I ask questions that I really don't want answers to?).
  He says . . "oh honey . . come with me . . . "
  (oh shit . . thats not a good sign) 
  So off we go . . on a trek through the store.  He's grabbing things left and right . . . and points me to a chair.  (oh no!  another non good sign.  my wallet started doing that "we've really got to get out of here' squirm)
  L, at this point, had seemingly lost her credit card, and wandered out of the store to see if she had left it at our previous location.
  Christephan (the makeup artist), has me now relaxing in a comfy chair, as he meticulously lines my lips with liner, then lip gloss, then more liner, a bit more lip gloss, MORE liner and a bit of shimmer for the top.  This takes a few minutes.  (it feels like 12).  At this point L comes back in the store . . . and just about drops everything she has in her hands. 

  "oh shit"

  thats all shes says. 

  Of course I'm freaking out . . what the hell did he just do to me?  There's no mirror . . can someone get me a mirror?  I need to see. . I need . . .
  Then L says . . "oh my god . . you look amazing.  You have model lips.  What did he do to you?  Can he do that to me?"
  
  What?
  I finally find sight of a mirror . . . and lean back to check 'em out. 

  they looked awesome.  incredible.  plump . . juicy . . and the color was *perfect*  I could wear it anywhere. 

  I bought the whole deal.  Lipgloss . . lipliner . . glittery stuff . . *and* my eyeshadow. 

  my credit card is weeping quietly in the corner. 

  Damn him and his professional lip brush.  Damn him. 

  (I'll have to supply pictures . . . sometime)
  

  • 8:40 pm
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