Spackle Improves Self-Esteem!

If I create a makeup line, I will call it Spackle. I am a reluctant makeup user. Perhaps once a year. I have never been girly in that way and part of me feels that it's like lying. But screw it, I wasn't going to hang with my friends all self-conscious. Tatalia at the Elephant Pharmacy wouldn't let me do such a thing. I sat, shoulders shrugged and embarassed in her chair. I explained my organic habits and vitamins and so forth. And I explained I am a picker and had a random rash in January and that my hyperpigmentation takes forever to fade. No judgement. She said we'd clean and then we'd have some fun with makeup. Tatalia was a beautiful German woman with the clearest blue eyes I have seen in such a long time. Perhaps late 30s, very pretty, with that smart aesthetician bob. She armed herself with cotton pads and a cranberry cleanser, a light toner, and a clarifying serum. All went on and off quickly and I sat and let myself be pampered. Note to self: Allowing people to take care of you feels GOOD. Take more time to let people care for you. After telling her that I had a dinner event and wanted coverage over my chin where I felt self-conscious. She brought out palettes of powders. These were makeup. She also brought out tubes and bottles of liquids. These were also makeup. The brand she suggested is mineral based, but when she went to match my skin to a color, I was inbetween a chestnut and an almond, either the powder was too puddy or too ruddy. She moved on their liquid line and the palette there stopped at slightly light coffee drink. Hrm. We moved on to another makeup line. We found a liquid makeup that would cover the really dark spots. Cool. And then we got a nice coverage from a "chestnut light" powder. Before any fancy colors on my lips or eyes I felt much better. More even skintone. I began to smile. Now I could face the world with my non-spackle looking mask. She then asked what colors I wanted for my eyes and lips. I told her I had no idea what I was wearing. And she said, "Let's pretend that it has a lot of black, okay?" Her German laced English was lovely. I trusted her. We agreed on a palate that looked like a peacock's feather. Iridescent green, blue, purple, and copper. She found a powdery pink that was lovely to highlight my lids. She painted and I watched in the mirror and I saw my pretty eyes begin to glow with their new makeup frame. How lovely. I began to see makeup not as this lie that women wear to falsely advertise, but as a playful costume. I saw it as decor, accessory, but not as a swindle. She topped my cheeks off with a slightly sparkly bronzer. Next came the palette of lip colors. At first I was timid and asked about a transparent stick that would just glisten my lips. But then I saw a deeper purple called, "passion." It was deep and purple like an aubergine. It was beautiful and confident and yet not too bold. Sure. I wanted to feel confident. Between my peacock inspired eyes and aubergine lips, I would be fine. Tatalia made me feel beautiful by toning down the blemishes I was spending all my time focusing on and bringing out my beauty. Yay. I drove home quickly and rummaged around my room for the boots I wanted to wear. Ass-kicking boots. They're buried somewhere in an inaccessible box. Dang. There goes that. So I reused the scarf-turned-blouse and found my black slacks. These in addition with the black leather jacket mami gave me would be a fine dinner outfit. Along with the silver and freshwater pearl earrings I bought for a pick-me-up and my pearl collar...bring on the night. I armed myself with Pocky and Joseph Schmidt Chocolates. I clothed myself and as Solomon called, also put on the shoes I bought with mami at the mall in Raleigh. I actually felt good. Not bad considering 24 hours ago I wasn't going to hang with the friends in Fremont to say hello to O and resend him back to Phoenix armed with his stuff. Earlier today I wasn't going to go either. My anxiety was high. But when Sol opened up the car door, I knew I was alright. A 25 minute drive brought us to Fremont and a living room filled with friends and it was good. It was weird to limit myself to hugs on the way in because of the new lip gloss. I didn't want to leave a postal stamp on people's cheeks. But I felt good talking to people. Milling, chatting. Fruit chaating. All because I could face the world because of a little trick called makeup. I hope someone got pictures. I'll lovlingly refer to it as Spackle.