For my Moogle

Might stop to holla and pop my collar

I had this plan.  Having, at one point, changed dramatically in my look and style to the point where people who had known me well did not recognize me when I passed them on the street, I developed some interest in the makeover genre of films.  I was going to make myself a project, looking at the styling of all these movies and trying to duplicate the stages the actresses travel through, but in reverse. That is to say, refiguring the films as though they had been about women blossoming from trembling Hollywod beauties into self-possessed awkward-looking freaks. 

Let's be honest, though.  Every Hollywood film is populated with Afters.  It's the Befores that really hold my interest, the films' ideas of what is unacceptable for a woman to look like while still being good enough to look at that people won't flee the theatre.  Among other things, I suppose, it's about making sure the typically perfectly serviceable selves from Before pictures don't remain uninhabited cast-offs, but are thrifted and refurbished as cherished vintage identities.  Also, apparently, I would most like to shoot these costumes as though they were American Apparel ads.  

This image pinched from
the Self-Styled Siren's
excellent post on costuming
she's enjoyed in films. I
do hope she'll forgive me.

Let's start with the granddaddy of 'em all, Now, Voyager.  It is the story of a carved ivory box-maker (Bette Davis) driven to being upset and mildly snippy to a teenager by her vicious and controlling mother, who keeps her locked away to prevent her from doing the things she enjoys (fucking in a car on a boat, like in Titanic).  She's rescued when her sister-in-law hires Dr. Claude Rains, who packs her off on a cruise to reignite her love of  tweezing her brows.  There, she meets some kind of European guy called Jerry (though he is not a Jerry) with a bitch wife and a hysterical, socially awkward daughter, Tina.  Tina is, incidentally, the spitting image of myself at her age. 

After returning home, Charlotte stands up to her mother, who thoughtfully kicks it mid-sentence once Davis has established that the tension of their relationship has run its course.   Charlotte then re-establishes ties with her European cruisemate, who elects to not leave his hateful wife but instead to gift Charlotte with their less popular daughter.  Charlotte promises to love and keep Tina with her always, which is not at all similar to the actions of her controlling mother because Charlotte is, I guess, prettier.

Besides the unusual ending, in which Davis' married love object's wife does not usefully die or depart and she forms a familial bond instead with his similarly distressed daughter, the most interesting thing about Now, Voyager is how it further develops Hollywood's love affair with psychiatry.  Rains is sort of a fairy godmother here, giving Charlotte not only her clothes but a bunch of pseudopsychiatric tips and tricks perfectly worthy of Carson Kressley or Gok Wan. 

Davis' costume when she is introduced seems to have been assembled from a checklist of fashion don'ts of the 1940s, and I've managed to tack on a couple more in my own take on the thing.  Her hair is flat, worn low on her head and parted in the center--later it will be up in a big pompadour.  She's wearing a lot of powder but no eyeliner or mascara, and, unforgivably, glasses, which the movie seems to believe are something that you might eventually grow out of wearing, perhaps if you lose some weight.

Her dress is just a train wreck.  Her mother refers to it as "the black and white foulard", if I'm hearing it correctly, but mine is just cotton.  The skirt length in particular hits at the widest part of her calf, which is said to make your leg look wide.  Mine is cut to my knee.  Davis is also wearing a fat suit, which I don't really have access to, but I can replicate the effect by generally being about thirty pounds heavier than she was in 1942.  I can't really muster anything as well-constructed as her foulard from my wardrobe, fast fashion having taken its toll on the garment industry, but I do have an incredible collection of polka-dots based on an offhand comment my mother made at some point about how dots are good because they attract men's eyes, like men were mynah birds or something.

"What man would ever look at me
and say 'I want you'?!  I'm fat!  My mother
doesn't approve of dieting!  Look at my shoes! 
My mother approves of sensible shoes!"

Unlike films of the 1940s, I am able to muster even an ounce of sympathy for women who don't want a kid but are made to have one anyway, so I can't really get on board with the fire-breathing demon portrayal of either of the two bad mothers Charlotte is set at odds with.  Even the teen who relentlessly trolls Aunt Charlotte seems to my eye to be acting out of a not-uncommon fear that she could become Aunt Charlotte if she doesn't do everything in her power to stave off spinsterity.  Even in films where fucking isn't a big thing, it is extremely important that women be thoroughly fuckable.  That's the main thing in Now Voyager, as in life.  Having myself been convinced already of my fuckability, I am free, free!  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

"I am my mother's well loved daughter. 
I am her companion.  I am my mother's servant. 
My mother says.  My mother!  MY MOTHER, MY MOTHER!"

Here's a special closeup on my makeup, which I love, I don't care what you say.  I think I just about doubled the width of my eyebrows, but I still can't quite match Davis', which appear to be tiny false mustaches. For authenticity, I shouldn't have used mascara, but I did. 

Taste the Rainbow

Look, if you can't finish a bottle of Urban Decay Primer Potion in under a year, I think a collection like this is sort of overkill.

Now that I'm a woman people keep trying to impregnate me with Satan's baby

Wearing sunscreen causes me to break out.

And who are we when we have a big angry forehead zit?  That's right: the Lady Amalthea.

The Last Unicorn is, among other things, a film about how spending time in a woman's body makes you weak and confused and death-prone, but highly lovable.  Unlike the approximately infinite number of other narratives where a strong, independent virgin falls in love and suddenly gets weak ankles (e.g. Rocky, Susan from the Narnia books), Amalthea gets to keep her own body and strength and sense of self, but loses her love.  While I would of course prefer a film where you can have sex without destroying your personality, this one has Christopher Lee, and is therefore recommended.

This hasn't been a good day for Lir.

Dilation

It was only after I'd used all the eyedrops, one bottle after another, that I thought to check whether my contact could be inside-out.

SCOT. LAND.

Ah, Scotland!  Birthplace of capitalism!  Stabbings capital of Western Europe!  Last bastion of the Labour voter!

Blue--Aromaleigh Cool It
White--Medusa's Makeup Blow

Today's eye honors St. Andrew, who felt that being martyred on the same shape of cross as Christ Jesus infringed on His copyright.  Besides being the patron saint of Scotland, he is the patron saint of Russia, Sicily, Greece, Romania, the Philippines, Malta, and fishmongers.

Or you could just watch Aladdin again

Saw Prince of Persia yesterday, one of approximately seven people in the theater, all women.  I thought I'd make a quick attempt at one of the looks from the film, as worn by sole-named-female-speaking-role character Princess Tamina.  It's on the occasion when she's about to be presented to the King of Persia as the spoils of war, and is characterized by a sort of double-lining effect where kohl is used to rim the inner lid, and then a horizontal line is drawn below the eye, which is washed with gold. 

I'd use a less yellowy gold than Medusa's Makeup Golden Boy if I tried this again, and also I'd try much harder to make sure both my under-eye lines were ruler-straight.  The foiling I did with plain water, and as such the metallic effect lasted exactly as long as it took to dry.  Next time, perhaps some Pixie Epoxy. 

Now, I'm white, and Gemma Arterton is white, and Jake Gyllenhaal is white, and Ben Kingsley is white, and Richard Coyle is white, and Toby Kebbell is white, and Donald Pickup is white, and Gísli Örn Garðarsson is Icelandic, and Alfred Molina is Spanish-Italian but born in England, and Steve Toussaint is English but has a French name and in the movie he plays a the only member of a fictional tribe of super-accurate knife-throwers called the "Mmmbaca", and director Mike Newell is famously white and English, but the settings and several of the extras and soldiers in this film are Iranian or Arab.  Should I be concerned about any kind of cultural appropriation here by wearing this possibly authentic and culturally significant makeup?  I'm very troubled!

Incidentally, I spilled a bunch of eye dust while doing this, and not only on my face.  And now I can't reverse time.

SCOOOTLAAAAAAAAAAND

Ah, Scotland!  After a hard day of being everywhere, doing everything, you're sure to work up a powerful thirst.  Why not quench it with Irn Bru, the world's most oppositional soft drink?*  And vodka?

It is made from iron and some other things, much like these eye pigments.  Except the blue one, that's made from FD&C blue 1.

Orange--Aromaleigh Ankle-Biter
Blue--Aromaleigh Flutura's Cloud
White--Medusa's Makeup Blow

You could also wear this to a Denver Broncos game between 1967 and 1997, if you were so inclined.


*Except perhaps for Coca-Cola, when drunk in Colombia.

SCOTLAAAAAND

Ah, Scotland!  Home of things that are Scottish, and a plurality of the world's Scots.  Its colour profile is very different to the one I'm used to, being made up of greens and greys rather than blues and golds.  Here, I have used it as inspiration for some eyeshadow.

Green--Aromaleigh Cricket (lid) & Tangleroot (outer corner)
foiled over some Fyrinnae Pixie Epoxy and primer
Gray--Aromaleigh Tapestry
Largely invisible blue-white highlight--Aromaleigh Bluebell

Note: If you are actually in Scotland, I do not necessarily suggest wearing this eye.  Be aware of your surroundings, and watch out for blue-painted kerbs.

Get Away From Me, Eye Version

While there's certainly a time and place for makeup designed to make you look nice, pleasant, and thoroughly approachable, doing only this look gets old fast.  Here's a simple and easy "fuck you" eye, inspired by the lovely Lipstickeater's Black Narcissus post.  Wear it when you want to go out and don't want to pull. 

You will need:
• a face
You can put extra makeup on yours or not.  I've elected not, as having a natural face helps lend the impression of monstrousness. 

• at least one eyeliner brush

Make sure your brush is in a state where you are comfortable with the idea of touching it to the area around your eyes.

 • red eyeshadow or liner

 This is available, but you may have to use the internet to obtain it.  It's also wise, though a complete headache, to check the ingredients list against the Cosmetics Safety Database to ensure that you're not filling your face up with lead or cancer. 


Directions
1. Line your lower lid with the red eyeshadow.  You are now done with the makeup portion of the face, although you can continue doing other things to your eyes or head if you wish.  Extending the line horizontally from the outer corners or towards the centre will give a more intentional, makeuppy effect, while lining your upper lid with either red or black will make you look like a bit of a tool. 

2. Using the muscles in your face, lift only the outside corners of both eyebrows, while pulling the lower part of your eye upwards, Clint-Eastwood style.

Avoid making references to Kabuki while wearing this look.

A Further Note On Eyebrows

If you dye your hair an unusual color, and your eyebrows remain a sort of ashy brown, it's advisable to fill them in, either with eyeshadow or eye pencil the same color as your hair, or black.  I urge you to take this step even (especially!) if you use no other makeup.  The face is easily washed out by a bright hair color, and stronger brows can help keep it focal.  Poor examples of this abound, but one you might google up is Lily Allen's recent foray into pink.

A Note On Eyebrows

I recommend them.