Nov 26, 2008

Nice legs, shame about the face

This is neither undue flattery or false modesty. I have terrific legs. And I have a face that draws attention for all the wrong reasons while out en femme. As a male face, it works, its serviceable. Not so handsome that guys don’t trust me. Not so ugly that women run away.

As a woman’s face though, its just sad. There are a whole pile of issues big and small. There is too much nose. The shadow is dark. And I feel poorly about my smile. I think this pulls my eyes down. And all the mechanics from that drive through shoulders, tits and ass too with a predictable impact on my gait and passability. ( I will have some future postings on tits and ass by the way, because I really put a lot of work into them, and it all paid dividends.)

But for now back to the face.

I will spare the stories of how badly I have done myself up in the past. I have achieved looks only marginally better than vintage Twisted Sister and Little Orphan Annie. It was time to put myself in the hands of professionals. Here is A Tale of Two Facials.

My Macy’s Day Parade

Halloween is a day full of license. You have an excuse for practically any kind of off-center behavior. This is a day not to be missed. Early in the afternoon, still with a full beard (had not shaved in a year or so) I visited the cosmetics/beauty area. The prettiest and most available for conversation aesthetician was at the Elizabeth Arden counter. I pretty plainly stated that I was looking for something that would cover up my own beard line and could she help me with that? No surprises, Moira was up for it. I would require some sort of concealer and she was picking up green tones from my complexion (green tones? WTF?). It was getting to sound a little complex, and so I said,

“Moira, would it totally freak you and your clients out if I ran home, shaved, put on a nice wig and a dress and popped back in for a real makeover?”

“Not at all hon, when can you be back here? I want to make sure I am not at lunch.”

“4:15 if that works for you Moira”

“I’ll be here, now don’t be late…!”

Gulp. Events are now rolling. And the clock is ticking. And my heart is starting to hammer up a bit. Its all good. Scissored through the outer-layers of beard, took a long hot shower, and took a blade to my face for the first time in ages. It is rather like riding a bike. I did no harm. Came pretty clean. And gleaned over the chin and upper lip area a second time in the hopes that I could make it pink.

I wrestled myself into my padded butt and hips panty girdle. Evened the bumps out under a pair of Spanx. Pulled up some dark ribbed tights (the legs do not get shaved sadly, yet). Strapped on my very symmetrical, very well positioned, and just not quite soft and bouncy enough boobs and push up bra, and held my breath while the very clingy, very body conscious ribbed turtleneck mini dress from American Apparel got pulled on and just forced everything to attention. Boo-yah. My wig, a belt, some bracelets, a nice and walkable black leather mule with a 3” heel, Audrey Hepburn sunglasses and a shawl and back breathless and face naked to Macys.

This is broad daylight people. I know I am being clocked. But again, 31 Oct has all its own excuses. In any event, no sign of Moira.

“O, she will be right back from lunch … hey Cindy, when did Moira go for lunch?”

“Don’t know, but she won’t be long.. just make yourself at home”.

Well there are minutes that just crawl. I sat. I walked. I thought a little about what to do with my hands. I went outside even for a quick smoke. Patience Petra, she can’t have forgotten you. Well 20 minutes was gut wrenching. I had made friends with Rhonda at Lancôme, and she did me a solid. I did not want to stand up Moira, but was far too exposed. And Rhonda seemed simpatico.

“Girl, you just relax, we get it all here. You just sit nice, and my I love your belt. I would kill for your little waist. Lets see what we can do here.”

Rhonda was good and I felt like I was with a friend. But there was a catch. The chair I was perched up in with about 8” of thigh free above the knee was a super-high traffic major corridor at an increasingly busy time of day. My face was out to the world, and not into the counter. You know, you know, you know and you keep reminding yourself that Joe Public out there sees what he expects to see. Don’t worry you say to yourself…. they don’t care, they don’t know…. but the little fears remain.

Rhonda talked me through it. She ladled out the complements. Great co-pilot. I could have just held her hand and walked anywhere. And then she spun the chair. Better than I have ever looked.

The Lancôme products were liquid foundation and concealer. The color looked good, but the 5 O’Clock shadow still drove through. Good eyes (lashes and lines clean black and full, but not much pop around the eyelids). It was makeup that a proper middle aged woman could easily wear to the office, but was going to get lost later that night.

The price of the care was the purchase of any 2 Lancôme products. I went for three, and for any of you who favor this brand, you will know that I did not have a cheap old facial here.

But I achieved a look I could not hope to for myself, and got some really high quality raw material that I could practice with and hopefully improve.

And then, with time to kill, I walked out and into the mall.

Next posting - Petra seeks professional help. :)

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