Evil, Grooming, Hair, Moi

Hairy Beast | Bête Velue

A big fat bubblegum-on-your-suede-shoes curse to all of you who were bestowed with the mega-blessing of hairless skin, or even light body hair. A curse!

I was not fortunate enough to inherit this from my mum’s side of the family. Or from what I hear my dad’s either. I’ve accepted the freakishness that I am but not until just a few years ago.

In fourth grade gym class a girl called Ramona Borcean pointed out my hairy legs. For the first time I had noticed and ran home crying. My poor mother freaked out and immediately shoved me into the bathroom, razor in hand, to teach me how to shave my legs.

This was an epic moment that inevitably sent me into a downward spiral of a “hairy beast” self-image for the next decade plus. The second my first strand of hair sprouted under my arm – eliminated. The instant I noticed my nether regions casting a shadow – exterminated. Followed by arm shaving. Followed by burning Nair-ing the face. Followed by shaving up to the chest, yes, that means stomach. Followed by stalking mom to buy wax to annihilate anything I couldn’t see for my first day as a summer camp counselor. You get the point.

Years of this insanity were sucking any of my will to live when it came to taking daily showers, which became hour-long excursions mostly leading to blood and cursing.

Finally, I literally woke up one day and said “fuck this”. I wanted to see just how furry I would get if I let myself go…aside from legs, pits and va-jay, obviously. Und I deed. And you know what? I didn’t implode! I accept the fact that I have a coat of peach fuzz and until I have a sack of gold I can throw at lasers – I will still be loved.

Last September, Josh, our friend Angela and I went down to a community in the upper Amazon jungle of Peru. Having been warned that hot, or even warm, water would be sparce – I took to waxing my armpits. HOLY BALLS do I love that I did.

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s broadcast on waxing…

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Evil, Eyes, Hygiene, Makeup, Remedy

Makeup Remover | Démaquillant

I am so sick and tired of cleaning up your mess!

Astronomical numbers are logged in for the amount of times I’ve had to clean makeup residue gunk off of lids in order to start fresh.

Ya’ll are not looking in the mirror close enough or not interested in trying or just plain sadistic…either way it doesn’t ease the pain you put me through each and every time.

Perhaps your culprits are waterproof mascaras and pencils. Perhaps you don’t allow your face to touch anything else but agua. Perhaps you find that heroin-chic-grunge-look appealing. Perhaps you haven’t found a proper way to efface last night’s party off your visage.

Just so we’re clear – I’m not angry, just disappointed.

Here are my favourites:

Rimmel

Dermalogica

NARS

If you need a makeup remover for dummies try:

Johnson's Baby Oil

And always use something gentle like cotton balls/pads:

  • Refrain from using anything waterproof unless you’re headed for the beach/pool or if you are en route to performing a dramatic scene in your acting class.
  • Do not use force when cleansing any part of your face – utilize your ring finger as much as possible around the eyes as it is the least pressured of your digits.
  • Make sure to bring me a bottle of red wine or anything from American Apparel if you know you’re set for the dog house. 😛
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Evil, Hygiene, Makeup, Skin, Teens

Young Ones | Les Jeunes

Through working on faces for the past decade I have met a lot of really wonderful humans with who I am, to this day, in contact with and some that I have grown to love deeply and dearly. You know who you are.

In the process, my path collided with a special select few at whom I longingly stared, fantasizing of jabbing an eye pencil through their cranial orifices. Some call them “stage moms”.

Surely you have rolled your eyeballs once or twice while watching smutty kid pageant reality teevee shows. Surely, at one point or another, you have wanted to pimp slap a parent at your grocery store wailing on their offspring. Surely I am not the only one.

Wall of shame:

  1. A mother who waxed her 4 year old’s eyebrows! Naturally I hounded her asking if she, at four years of age, would have appreciated having her face ripped off.
  2. Another mother who took her 9 year old to the nail salon to get an acrylic French manicure and pedicure! I flipped out.
  3. Parents who purchased trampy club clothes for their 12 year old and egged her on to assume sexy poses for the camera! I sent them all home after sharing a few choice words for the road.
  4. A mother of 13 and 14 year year olds who, when proposed the question, “Would you let them get a breast augmentation at this age if the job asked for it?” said YES! (You should have seen the look on the other mothers’ faces.) I lost it.

All of these perpetrators yield to media and their children’s reasoning instead of educating them on what is more important…like books, art, diet and proper skin care.

My rules:

  • Unless a model, under 16, I work with is six feet tall and signed with a reputable agency – chances of me doing more than concealer spot treatment, cream blush and chap stick/clear gloss – are slim to none.
  • Teens need to stop wearing that horrid black waterproof liner on their waterline (bottom lash line), please aid me on this endeavour. They don’t know how to blend it and how to wash it off properly. Just. Stop. It. Or try coloured mascaras instead.
  • I’m all for teens experimenting with sheer lipgloss colours – fresh and lovely.
  • Very light cream blush with a little shimmer is also okay in my book.
  • Waxing/plucking should not be allowed until 15 or 16 and ONLY if you’re splitting a unibrow or if you fear Brezhnev’s reincarnation.

Teach your youngins about proper skin care. Keep in mind that prevention (not the sexy time kind…though also helpful) earlier on in their lives can lead to healthier skin later on in their lives that will last longer than yours.

Bestow upon them a healthy habit of never leaving the house without sun screen – rain or shine.

Nip in the bud the Flamin’-Hot-Cheetos-and-RedBull-breakfast routine.

Dress them age-appropriately. It’s YOUR money and YOUR rules until they are 18, don’t forget that.

Decrease face time with the television, I swear they all want to move into music video sets. At least explain to them that films/videos are 90% constructed and not real…their favourite “teen” performers have had chest hair and periods for the past decade.

Be available and honest when your kids need you – a lot of lashing out comes from attention anorexia which leads to horrible makeup and singed hair…I speak from experience.

Hell forbid I ever have a daughter – she will be home schooled and locked down until she is sixteen, dressed in Amish couture, oblivious to razors and rockin’ a unibrow. But if not – I’ll settle for my own version of Madonna’s daughter who should be every teen’s fashion/beauty icon. Go, girl.

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