Archive for the ‘Makeup’ Category

Here’s my well-intended but ultimately misguided new habit, which is putting a dent in my bank account while simultaneously not putting a dent in the overflowing stash spilling from the hot pink bins and buckets in my Beauty Armoire: I get an idea in my head – “Let’s try sparkly Kyle Richards eyes!” – and then proceed to round up all the necessary gear to make that idea happen.

And more often than not, I end up buying something.

This is not brills. I need new beauty products like I need a hole in my head. And I don’t need a hole in my head, because I have a hard enough time as it is keeping all my marbles trapped inside my fake-blonde noggin.

Like so many of you – please, I see the search-terms you use, don’t play coy – I’m mesmerized by the disco-ball action on Kyle’s upper lids. And this season, she seems to be glittering around the clock, no matter what manufactured scenario we “catch” her in. No task is too mundane, no outfit too schlubby for the full-tilt eye glitz.

It’s unnerving, but fascinating, too, like viewing some exotic and vibrantly marked creature in its native habitat. I recently caught the last few minutes of “Birds of the Gods” on the Nature show on PBS, which was all about the spectacularly plumed and multi-hued feathered beauties of paradise in New Guinea. Immediately, I thought of Kyle and her sparkly eyeshadow.

So in preparation for a chicks’ cocktail hour for my friend Vix’s birthday, I decided to try to glitz it up myself. Building my little project around my new Tom Ford Eye Color Quad in Silvered Topaz, I started scrolling through my mental Rolodex: Do I have the right brushes? Where are my brushes? Will I need to pick up a few new ones to get the right look?

Um, no, Momover Lady. You will not need to pick up a few new ones to get the right look. (But of course I did. More on that shortly.)

First, on a trip to Target for the express purpose of picking up new undies – but I couldn’t deal with the chaos of those shelves, I need order - I considered buying a Sonia Kashuk eyeshadow brush. “Wait a minute,” I said to myself, “don’t you have the equivalent of a warehouse of Sonia Kashuk brushes at home?” Yay! Saved myself $10 bucks, or however much that little number was.

But today, on a run to the mall to fetch those undies I so desperately needed (six pairs of Vicky Secrets’ lace thongs in nude), as well as a gifty for my pal Vix (sssshhhh…it’s a yummy box of Godiva), I foolishly popped into Sephora.

Ka-ching.

I am now the not-proud owner of a Slanted Eyeliner Brush, a Classic Double-Ended Flawless Complexion Brush for applying foundation and concealer (not that that has a damn thing to do with creating sparkly eyes, but I just had to have it) and a bottle of Daily Makeup Brush Cleaner to spiff up all the brushes I already owned.

Grrr…I could have saved a whale with that money. And I should have saved a whale with that money.

Okay gotta go get Kyle-sparkly for Vix’s girls’ bash.

An early Xmas prezzie arrived in the form of some truly stunning Tom Ford makeup and one of his gorgeous artisanal scents, Jasmin Rouge.

That Ford has crafted impeccable, covetable beauty products isn’t brandy new news; in-the-know types have been swooning over his richly pigmented, grown-up lipsticks since the 2010 launch. And the full range of maquillage, as well as a tightly edited collection of skincare items, made a rather splashy debut at Bergdorf Goodman last month – helped in massive part by a personal appearance by the dashing designer himself.

Happily, I’d been thinking it might be time to step away from the girlish glosses – at least occasionally – and embrace full-on lipstick again. Ford’s super-hydrating numbers feel great, with a texture that isn’t madame in the slightest.

And clearly I’ve been watching too much RHOBH, because I immediately thought of Kyle Richards when I clicked open the Eye Color Quad in Silvered Topaz.

But here’s what I didn’t expect to happen: To get so taken with the line that I would spend quite a bit of Q-time on the Bergs website, as well as Ford’s company site, learning more about it.

I’m in love with this earnest video, in which Ford discusses his beauty philosophy. It’s a message of glamour and polish and putting your best foot forward, all of which I heartily applaud. He and I are the same age, so a lot of his cultural touchstones – that hyper-glossy, Studio 54-era makeup and windblown hair – are mine as well. I was weaned on late-Seventies Vogue and Bazaar, and all those glamazons. And right now, as I type this post, I can see not one but two copies of Scavullo On Beauty in my office bookcase. (Hard cover and paper, natch.)

If I have two copies of Scavullo’s seminal book, I’m sure Tom has ten. Thank you, Mr. Ford, for bringing all that glamour and luxury back – in spades.

Tomorrow I’m having lunch with my new writer pal Julia Somewhere In Transition Barclay. (Someday I’ll stop referring to her as Julia Somewhere In Transition Barclay, but for now, she’s Julia Somewhere In Transition Barclay.) And I intend to bring her a goodie bag stuffed with beautifiers.

Not that she needs them; this isn’t an indictment of her looks, which are lovely.

Rather, it’s that thing we gals do. We gift. Or, in my case, we re-gift from the cavernous recesses of our Beauty Armoires.

Because she and I don’t know each other that well yet, I only have the most fleeting cues to go by: She has long hair. It’s blonde. She doesn’t wear oodles of makeup, but I’m sure she’d appreciate one or two items along those lines. And skincare.

Yes, I know; it’s a little weird for one woman to give another woman skincare. But since Julia Somewhere In Transition Barclay and I are exactly the same age (whatever, I’m a few months older), I have a sneaking suspicion what some of her complexion concerns might be.

So right now, I’m going on a fishing expedition. When I return, I’ll report on what I nabbed for her.

Okay, I’m back. And I’ve collected:

1. Aveda Damage Remedy Restructuring Conditioner

2. Comfort Zone Renight Recover Cream

3. Tata Harper Restorative Eye Creme

4. Caudalie Vinosource Quenching Sorbet-Crème

5. Murad Eye Lift Illuminator

6. Shea Moisture Organic Raw Shea Butter Soap

And a…

7. Set of Sonia Kashuk makeup brushes, kinda like this one

There, I think she’ll like all that. And it won’t be too taxing to lug all that into the office for her. Yay. A win-win, as they say.

Oops, it’s Tuesday already. I started this post last night, when it was still technically Beauty Armoire Monday, but I was falling asleep over my keypad. I kicked-off my new work schedule this week (Monday thru Wednesday in Gotham, the rest of the week Chez Momover Lady), and I’ve haven’t quite adjusted to the ramped-up pace.

Which brings us, conveniently, to my subject matter.

Knowing I needed to get beyond-organized, I went on a tear over the weekend, attacking the Sephora-level amount of war paint in my bathroom and arranging it in such a way that it’s – gasp – actually functional. And – double gasp – pleasant to use rather than slit-your-wrists frustrating.

I have to know exactly where all my maquillage is, because I’ll have approximately five seconds to cake it all on.

Sooo…I already had one small, three-tiered trunk in play for a while. And while it started out fairly tidy – divided by eyes, lips and face – it had eventually gotten topsy turvy, with a lot of dead wood that needed weeding out. Cobalt-blue eyeshadows I never wear, mascaras past their sell-by date, pencils with the tops broken off.

To up the organization ante, I brought in another small trunk – one without tiers, which I’m assuming is for bottles that need to stay upright. I decided to designate that one solely for complexion items – foundation, tinted moisturizer and concealer. Nothing else. Not even blush and bronzing powder, which are just six degrees of separation from complexion. I wanted to be a purist.

Not to mention a geek of the highest order. At least I can admit that about myself. This is the type of stuff that floats my boat; makeup so hyper-organized that complexion gets its very own trunk.

It’s not that I wear a lot of foundation. I can’t remember the last time I used a liquid formula, for instance. I’m pretty sure it was custom-blended Prescriptives, which is basically out of business. so that should tell you how long ago it was. Wait, now I’m confused – I just visited the Prescriptives website, and it says they’re “refreshing” the line for 2011, so who knows what’s up with that once-fabulous brand.

I’ve blogged many times about my abiding love for Bobbi Brown stick foundation. That’s my desert-island must-have.

But here are the complexion items in heavy rotation:

1. Philosophy Hope In a Tinted Moisturizer

2. CoverGirl & Olay Simply Ageless Foundation

3. Murad Skin Perfecting Primer | Dewy Finish

4. Yves Saint Laurent Touch Éclat

5. Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturizer SPF 20

6. Sonia Kashuk Concealer Palette

7. L’Oreal Paris Feel Naturale Light-Softening One-Step Makeup

OMG, that’s a lot of spackle. But I said “heavy rotation,” which means I rotate. And speaking of which, I need to go rotate right now and get out the door in a timely manner.

As we speak (or, more accurately, as I write and you read), there’s an entire fleet of handymen in front of our condo building, converting what is cheerfully known as “Elephant Plaza” into an ice skating rink.

They do this every year, moving the water-spouting Daddy, Mommy and Baby bronzey-brassy pachyderms off into the bushes nearby, along with the curvy stone tables and benches that the neighborhood nannies are camped-out on all day, every day, during the warmer months.

And over the next week or so, those same worker bees will build-out the rink, put down the ice and cover the adjacent concrete with rubber mats so all those would-be Johnny Weirs don’t destroy their blades.

I feel sad. Not swallow a handful of pills sad. Or even max-out the credit card sad. Just a little blue because it’s so official: The winter is upon us and the elephants are in the bushes.

So just now, as I was rousting around in my Beauty Armoire for that darn neuveauBrow (we’ve reached a crisis point with the thyroid-induced bald patch, and I know it’s in there somewhere), I came across about 90 other unopened goodies I want to try.

Beauty Junkie, thy name is Momover Lady.

But one product, in particular, will help me make the mental leap from Elephants to Ice – Lancôme Star Bronzer in Natural Matte 02 Sunkiss.

There’s a way to use bronzing powder in winter that reads more Hot Mom, and less Exotic Dancer, and I’d like to think I’ve perfected that technique. Here, my rules:

1. First, make sure your mug is very moisturized. Color on top of flaky skin is a massive no-no. Blech.

2. Next, even out your complexion before applying bronzing powder. Since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I’ve been dabbing Bobbi Brown Foundation Stick on any stray bits of redness – around the nose, chin, etc. I go through tubes of it. And I pay for it myself, which should underscore how addicted I am.

3. Only bump up your natural color two shades, max. My Lancôme was gifted to me by my publicist pal Patricia, who knows how ghostly pale I get this time of year, so the shade is mellow and manageable. And don’t even think about going the sparkly, shimmery route right now. At least not during the day; if you want to be all lit up like a Christmas tree at night, that’s your prerogative. But as long as the sun is shining, hit the matte.

4. Use a super-fluffy brush to apply it. You want an all-over wash of color, not a 1970s “contouring” vibe. (Though contouring is making a comeback, because it’s pretty brills for optically slimming noses and carving sexy cheekbones, sans surgical scalpel. Fodder for another blog post…)

5. Add a bit of blush on top. That looks sooooo purdy. And don’t forget a swipe of lipstick or gloss, perhaps in one of those universally flattering nudey-rose shades. It’s probably just my age (sniff, sob), but I can’t really get away with bronzing powder and blush without some lip action. Momover Lady needs some lip action.

I’m dating myself, but I’ve been a beauty editor long enough to have been given eyelining lessons by the one and only Trish McEvoy herself. She’s a legend, her products are gorgeous and her beauty book is, I think, completely best of breed. It just makes you want to paint yourself.

Ironically, however, it’s another super-duper beauty book – The Makeup Wakeup – that had me thinking of Trish recently, and her famous eyelining technique. Wakeup, which was written by rock star makeup artist Sandy Linter, and a beauty editor pal of mine – Lois Joy Johnson - is aimed at oldies-but-goodies like moi, and it is so good.

One of the big takeaways from Sandy and Lois’s book is that lining your eyes well is über-important as you get up there in years because you totes need the definition – waaaaaay more than your 20-year-old daughter, who rings her eyes so heavily that she’s doing a stunning impression of a cute little raccoon rousting around in the picnic baskets at Jellystone Park.

Okay, I’ll buy that. I need liner. But in what format, I ask?

I do very much love my Noir pencil, because it’s soft and doesn’t “skip” and drag the way some harder pencils do. And when I’m in a rush, that’s my default liner, for sure.

But when I have an extra minute or two, I break out my Trish eyelining brush and a little pot of jet black powder shadow and I mentally dial back about 15 years – to those lessons with the ultimate makeup maven. As I recall, her technique was very elaborate, and entailed bringing your arm up and over your head while looking in the mirror and making a dotted line across the lash line of your upper lid.

I don’t do the up and over business, and for all I know, she doesn’t even teach it that way anymore. And I pretty much skip the lower lid altogether. (No sense drawing any attention to undereye wrinklies and crinklies, I say.)

But I do really like Trish’s connect the dots approach. It is such a pretty look. Utterly polished -  and defined.

In the past 72 hours, I’ve had ample opportunity to re-write my god awful photo ID history. Well, actually, it was more like one true opportunity and one near miss.

On Saturday, we went to get our new season passes for the town pool (it’s not our town, per se, but they’re nice enough to let us play bathing suit-clad interlopers) and I was determined to up the ante over last year’s. Talk about setting the bar low; my hair was in full-frizz mode that day, and I detect not the slightest bit of war paint.

This year, thanks to my new pixie ‘do, a smidge of makeup and – drumroll – a genuine smile, I look considerably better. And that’s just from the neck up. With all my P90X-ing, my bod is also much improved. Now if only I can keep the momentum going, especially while I’m juggling several simultaneous work gigs.

And speaking of which, today, when I returned to the magazine for which I’ve been temp-toiling, I was hoping against hope that I’d be able to replace that heinous work badge I blogged about in February. You know, the one that made me want to run screaming to the surgeon for a syringe full of Juvederm.

So before I headed down to building security, I busted out my makeup bag and went to town, applying a mix of “classics” and new-stuff-I’m-trying:

1. YSL Touche Eclat Radiant Touch (most genius prod of all time)

2. Bobbi Brown Foundation Stick (the absolute best of the genre, but I mostly use it as a concealer)

3. St. Tropez Powder Bronzer Matte Finish (just started using this but I really like it; matte is such a good idea for a bronzing powder – very work-friendly)

4. Noir Smooth Blend Eyeliner in Smog (another newbie for me; fabulous texture and zero “drag”)

5. mark touch & glow shimmer cream cubes (faithful Momoverettes know I’ve already heaped some love on this great beautifier)

5. Clinique Long Last Glosswear in Stellar Plum (a little dark, a little shiny and a lot of photogenic)

After plastering my mug with all that, and fluffing my hair a bit, I was ready for my close-up.

“Can I see your other ID?” asked the perfectly pleasant building security broad. “Sure,” I said, reluctantly forking it over and wishing I’d said I lost it.

After a quick sleight of hand, she handed it right back to me with a new expiration date and a broad smile. “Here you go,” she chirped. “You don’t need even need to get a new picture!”

Tant pis, as the French say. At least I looked polished and put-together. And besides, I’m quite sure there are other IDs in my future.

Well alrighty now…

We’re back from our Jamaican jaunt to Jakes, and while we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, I have to say that from a beauty standpoint, it was like the living, breathing equivalent of one of those “Stars Without Makeup” issues of the supermarket tabloid rags that I always find endlessly fascinating. (C’mon, admit it: you do too.)

That’s because, in my packing wisdom, I somehow managed to leave behind the cosmetic product that I absolutely, positively, cannot live without: eyeliner. Obvi, I can live without it, but I just can’t feel quite like myself without it. I’ve been wearing it since I was a tween, and as the years pile-up – and my lashes continue their disappearing act - I really appreciate its ability to make my peepers pop.

Another misstep: Chopping off all my hair before a trip to a wildly humid environment. That was fun. But thankfully I brought enough bobby pins to sink a pirate ship, so I was able to batten down the hatches every day, and keep it from morphing into a white-girl fro.

Btw, I’d be totally down with the white-girl fro if it had looked good on me. But alas, the effect was a bit more dirty-blonde Bozo than cute mama ‘do.

This morning, as I geared up for drop-off for the first time in two weeks (the Wee Lass’s school has verrrrry long breaks), I piled on the liner, big-time. But thankfully, I skipped the bobby pins. Clearly, feeling good about greeting the world is all about a little addition and subtraction.

Tomorrow: A happy tale about my trip to Jakes’ kick-ass Driftwood Spa.

I wouldn’t call it the biggest mistake of my life, but it was damn close: On Sunday afternoon, in an attempt to de-clutter the DVR queue, I accidentally zapped the season finale of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Before.

I.

Even.

Watched.

It.

To say I was beside myself is an understatement. Coming on the heels of the oh-so-stressful Barbie birthday bash, it was almost more than I could bear. But for some reason, Hubby wasn’t really feeling my pain. In fact, I think he was secretly psyched to be able to watch the football game instead. How could he be so insensitive to my plight? Grrrr times a million…

So of course you won’t be at all surprised to learn that I spent a good chunk of yesterday trying to piece together whatever clips I could from Hulu. Though it’s a bit patchwork quilt-y to watch it that way – a snippet here, a snippet there – I think I saw most of the scrape-your-jaw-off-the-floor highlights.

And even more importantly, I also saw a few sneak peeks of the explosive upcoming reunion episode.

I won’t play spoiler by telling you what’s coming down the pike. (And I’m actually even a little mad at myself for sneak-peeking.) But I will say this: They all look g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s.

For a split second, I couldn’t figure out why they all seem approximately 10 times younger and fresher on the reunion than they did when they were trotting through the season double-cheek air-kissing and making mincemeat out of each other.

But then it hit me:

Seriously dialed-down eyeliner.

If I had to hand out a Most-Improved award, it would have to go to Kim, followed closely by Adrienne. With soft blush and lipstick – and no raccoon eyes – they both are so much prettier. Of course, Pinky looks amazing. Despite all the fan love for Kyle, and the undisputed fact that Camille has the body of cellulite-free 16-year-old, I’m totes Team Pinky.

Giggy I can take or leave. But Lisa of the Louboutins? Pure glamour.

Yesterday, the Wee Lass grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, and before snuggling down into her blankie to watch Fish Hooks (I’m sorry, but I find that show really disturbing…), she turned to me and said: “I need to put this on my neck because it’s really hot, and by ‘hot,’ I don’t mean pretty. I mean the other kind of hot. The kind you can feel.”

Barely on the cusp of five, she routinely categorizes women – and her growing fleet of Barbies – as “hot” or “not hot.” (Here’s a shocker: most of the Barbies make it into the “hot” camp.)

I recently read an interview with one of the world’s most beautiful creatures – Christy Turlington – in which she said her young daughter chastised her for not being a “fancy” mom, ostensibly because she doesn’t teeter into drop-off in five-inch spikes every morning.

What kind of world are we living in? I’ll tell you what kind. The kind in which broads who are knee-high to a Coke bottle weigh-in on the relative “hotness” and “fanciness” of their fellow women folk.

Okay, I’m climbing off my soapbox long enough to discuss a few changes I’ve made to my morning routine – and only a few of them have to do with maquillage. Yes I have my current faves: Stila Sun Gel liquid bronzer watered down with a little Sisley All Day All Year moisturizer (wildly expensive; it was an editor freebie); Maybelline Define-A-Line in Slate Gray (speaking of La Turlington); L’Oréal Paris Feel Naturale blush in Mauvelous dusted over my cheeks and lids; and a quick swipe of something lippy, usually one of my multiple plum-family Clinique Long Last Glosswears.

But far more important – I think – than the makeup I’m wearing is the fact that I actually have the time to apply it. And that’s where the real news come in. In one of the umpteen get-it-together books that I’ve been skimming lately (I’m pretty sure it’s One Year to An Organized Life), the author talks about the importance of following a task all the way through to the finish line.

So let’s take the a.m. rush as an example. Prior to the Xmas break, I would careen around the kitchen fixing the Wee Lass’s breakfast and packing her lunch, leaving a trail of Cracklin’ Oat Bran, Skippy Natural, Smuckers, bread, dishes and utensils in my wake – all to be cleaned up when I got back home. I don’t do that anymore.

Prior to the Xmas break, I would sometimes leave her bed unmade before school and her pjs in a hamperless heap. I don’t do that anymore.

And prior to the Xmas break, I would utterly trash my closet in an attempt to cobble together a decent outfit. You guessed it – I don’t do that anymore.

Instead, I’m wrapping up every single pre-school chore with a nice little bow. And miracle of all miracles, I somehow have more time to primp, and feel about a thousand times less stressed, than I did when I was stopping and starting and not bringing anything full circle.

Bonus points: When I get back from drop-off, the house is über-tidy and I’m ready to dive right into my day.