Joan Jett + Drag Queen = Glamorous
Since I can't be bothered to make decisions about my hair, I, as a rule, tell whomever is cutting my hair to do whatever they want. I typically end up with a totally stylish, somewhat edgy, multi-colored 'do. (Maybe it is because Havalah Winslow is the best stylist known to humankind. She is in Austin, TX - let me know if you want her number. She is a miracle worker.)
I am now in SoCal. I found a gal to cut my hair, told her to do whatever she wanted, and I now have a Joan Jett kind of a cut. -which is fine.
The new hair gal (who is no Havi, that's for damn sure) is updating her portfolio, and asked if I would come in for a photo shoot. Even though my schedule is packed to the gills with surfing and making lunch for my husband, I thought I could squeeze in some time for a picture. They also said they would have snacks, and I'm a sucker for a cheese ball and crackers.
After 45 min in the make-up and primping chair, I had on more make-up than all the cast members of Days of Our Lives combined, and totally looked like a drag queen with Joan Jett hair. The photographer told me, in a very serious tone, to "look into the camera like you know a secret". The only thing that achieved was me snickering and smiling to the point that my many coats of primer, foundation, bondo, and powder collected in cruddy conglomerations in the smile lines at the sides of my mouth.
Once home, the cleaning process proved to take almost as long as the application. We decided to just throw that washcloth out. There's no saving it from the pounds of Smashbox embedded in its formerly snowy white Egyptian cotton.
But, you know what? I do know a secret. I'm never wearing that much make-up again. Ever.