Petra gets Polished by a Pro

A very busy Friday. And a totally drab Friday. Late in afternoon took a close, close, shave, and put on some clean drab. Today was a big day. I had settled on visiting Paris Decatur later that night. I knew that anything before 10:00 would be ghastly, unfashionably early. And here I was getting makeup at 5:30. In mens clothing.

Now, I have no problem staying en femme for that long a time, however, there is the matter of calls of nature. For me, when I go out, I figure the outer limit of when I need to come home is just how long I can hold my water. Here are a couple of the whys:

1. I am really just never certain which bathroom to use, and
2. There are a lot of layers and a lot of real effort required to get it all locked in place. I sometimes crack a sweat in the effort. This is to be avoided in public. And certainly to be avoided when a little drunk.

So, khakis and button-down shirts and off to a beautiful home in the Morningside neighborhood. "R" smiled and made me feel at home. We had 1 hour to work with before her real engagement for the evening arrived, and so, upstairs to the lair we go.

It’s a totally self contained princess palace. "R" offers a B&B service so that clients can really occupy their feminine space. Big walk in closet off the bedroom with a real salon chair, mirrors galore, wigs beyond counting and 3 walls of wardrobe, shoes and boots. Quite impressive.

She studied me in the real light. Turned me away from view of the mirrors and then started into the transformation. Dry powder concealer. Real theatrical makeup over the beard lines. Dry foundation dusting over the rest of my face and neck. And then the epic battle on my eyes.

Drama, she had mentioned the night before, and drama she started to impose on my face. I was asking questions and without a view of the action, could only guess. Cool and thick eyeliner. Mascara that felt like it was grabbing and tugging my lashes on the way through. Glimmering, silvery eye shadow highlights worked from the outer limits of my brow line down into dark warm and lush browns on my lids.

"R" stopped working time to time. And just looked. Her face gave away nothing. Clearly she is serious about this work. She said she was going for smokey. Sounded just like what I was after. And I believe she got it. Back to work on cheeks, finished on lips, and turned the chair mirror-wise for me. Spectacular. I just wanted to look. And look. Words are usually easy for me, but they just failed at that moment. And this with me still in drab and my own hair.

 

Ah, yes, hair … I really hadn’t thought about it. R asked about what I was planning to wear that evening. I mentioned pretty much what I had on the night before. My wig was at home, it was still light out, and my face was totally glowing. Perhaps a little femme hair would help out for the drive home. ... She pulled a black bob cut number out and drew it down over my own stuff.  

One more step closer to paradise. I did not realize until that moment that like most things in life, money makes a difference, and that is clearly the case in the wig department. This mop was more a expensive and much more lustrous wig then mine. And damn but it made a huge difference. I totally crushed on g-girls with this hair back in the day. I could not believe I had that look myself.

This artist with whom I was loving more by the moment humored me with 2 other choices, but there was really never any contest. This look was totally Petra. I promised to bring it back in terrific shape over the weekend, and that worked well. 

"R" took a couple of photos, I gave her a big old hug, thanked her profusely, and fully knew that Petra was going to come out and go places she had only dreamed of before that night.