Yes, yes, I am still alive! Oh, dear. How ever will I be a make-up guru with a gazillion followers if I update so seldomly? 🙁
To the three people who read this blog, I apologize. School gets in the way of things…
And perhaps, this here entry might be a way to bridge two lakes of obligatory ranting, aka homework and the pursuit of cosmetic fame.
Here be my informative essay on red lipstick for class. Have some more bitterness and residual anger.
Here’s Me Giving You Lip, Victor
Victor Medina, son of the actor Pen Medina, was tipsy. My friends and I were sitting around the longest table in Mogwai, a mini-theatre/bar that film majors were expected to frequent in those almost stress-free weeks after the semester officially ended and just before summer actually began.
Victor Medina was taking uneven steps out of the bar and into the street when one of my girlfriends introduced him to me. Instead of pausing to exchange customary pleasantries, he kept right on walking, half of his body turned towards me as he stumbled down the sidewalk, and yelled back, along with a drunken “Oy” an insult that immediately put him on the short, unfortunate list of People I Will Never Like But May Occasionally Have To Put Up With Out Of Social Obligation.
The insult: “Ang kapal ng lipstick mo!” (“Your lipstick is really thick!”)
Of course, he was wrong. “Thick”, in that situation, was an adjective that would have been used only by cosmetic newbies and the wretched Filipino people whose idea of make-up was nothing short of pedestrian. “Retro glam” and “vampy red” were more fitting descriptions to use, in my humble, online make-up guru opinion. The lip liner I had used was worth eight hundred and fifty pesos. My lipstick was nine hundred and fifty. Suffice it to say that I didn’t need more than one coat to get its gorgeous color to come out.
My perfectly red lips scowled so deep that I momentarily worried if my otherwise immaculate foundation could have actually cracked. A quick look in the small mirror of my Nars Orgasm blush compact put my confidence and my smile back in place. “Silly,” I said to myself, “you’re wearing mineral foundation, remember?” And how could I forget? My mind automatically walked me through that afternoon’s make-up process.
The face was a five-step procedure: Primer, Concealer, bareMinerals foundation in Medium Beige, Blush, and Setting Powder. This took three minutes.
The eyes were simple; a few swipes of lid primer, a quick dusting of pale gold on the lids, light brown just on the Outer V, matte eggshell white for the highlight and inner corners, subtle eyeliner, and several, gorgeous coats of mascara. The application needed little to no technique and I could afford to be as haphazard as I was with the foundation. It took five minutes.
But the lips. The lips were a different story. They were the most important part of the look and they, like ridiculously talented prima donnas, demanded nothing less than perfection. I had been building my entire look around deep, red lips and that meant lip liner to make the color last longer and dexterity so that it said “polished” instead of “clown.”
On a tissue, I blotted the excess lip balm with which I had prepped my lips a few minutes earlier, and very carefully peeled off a stubborn strip of dry skin. I took my MAC lip pencil in Burgundy, sharpened it, and drew a short, horizontal line on the middle part of my bottom lip line. The Cupid’s bow was a little bit more complicated; I had to dot the two peaks and the dip before connecting them to create a perfect little V. With quick, short strokes, I lined the rest of my lips, stopping to breathe and exhale every few seconds to keep my hands from shaking too much. Still, I made a few mistakes and had to take cotton buds and some make-up remover to wipe away red that wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Finally, the shape was perfect and I filled in my lips with the same lip pencil.
At this point, I paused, looked in the mirror, and prayed for patience. I took my favorite MAC lipstick in Dubonnet, which is a gorgeous, deep red color with blue undertones. Very carefully, I layered it on top of Burgundy, smacked my lips together a few times, and re-lined them. Taking a small, stiff, angled brush, MAC’s 266, for better precision and control, I carefully outlined the lip shape with a bit of concealer. A fluffy dome brush, MAC’s 224, and a bit of white eyeshadow quickly swiped in the philtrum accentuated my Cupid’s bow.
All this took fifteen minutes.
It was several hours past sunset and Victor Medina was wearing old jeans, and a t-shirt. His hair looked to be a matted mess of probably two days’ worth of grease and cigarette smoke.
I wonder how long it took him to roll out of bed and push his ugly feet into those slippers.
Yep, you might consider this a continuation of my very first gunkie entry.
I swear, one of these days, I WILL do a tutorial on or involving red lipstick. In the meantime, enjoy the rants!
OH, let it be said that I do not hate Victor Medina. And I do not know what his feet look like. The jokes are only half-meant and implying hate just makes for a more interesting essay, yeah? And I do so enjoy pleasing my professors.
You never know, he could totally be one of those few, blessed men who moisturize their hands and keep Chapstick in their pockets.