Sunday, January 25, 2009

Amulets and Breastplates

A few months ago, before I went into yellow alert budget crackdown mode (sorry NYC retailers, it had to be done), I bought a necklace from one of my favorite shops, Diana Broussard. They have amazing things, if you haven't been there, but what I like best and think are most unique are their massive necklaces that (almost) could act as shirts. When you put them on, you feel protected, almost as if you're wearing an aegis or breastplate (sans Medusa head). A new kind of power dressing!! Good for dealing with these rough workdays on Wall Street now.

Most of my favorite pieces of jewelry are my favorites because of their meaning - and I feel like that meaning gives the piece a sort of power, like an amulet. The two rings I wear every day (one of which was a 16th birthday gift and the other I bought when traveling on my own in Australia before moving back to NYC from Europe) remind me of different stages in my becoming an independent adult. Other pieces remind me of people I love and times I have spent with them.

Some of them have wonderful stories that I feel are kept alive by wearing them. My grandmother gave me a needlepoint brooch from my grandfather's Aunt Mary, who wasn't really his aunt, but who raised him while he went to school in Buedingen and almost adopted him. I visited her when I was 3 and she was no longer living in the big house, but was moved to a smaller cottage. She was a bit embarrassed that she was in the smaller house and was really too old to take care of the lawn, which was overgrown with weeds. According to my grandmother, though, 3-year old me thought the masses of dandelions and wildflowers were absolutely beautiful and told Aunt Mary, who always had a soft spot for me after that. Now I have a soft spot for the brooch as I really only remember Aunt Mary through that story. (It's the brooch in the photo; the blue necklace is from Diana Broussard, and the green Kia Ora jade heart is also from my grandmother and has its own story.)

Friday, January 2, 2009

Kabuki face

It's funny to me that makeup is, for the most part, pretty unfashionable. You'd think it wouldn't be. Fashion is all about fantasy and presenting a better, chic-er version of yourself, hiding faults (if you have any) and flaunting your assets. And isn't that the point of makeup? You'd think so, right? But I notice at fashion shows that no one wears much makeup (except celebrities who are really dressing for paparazzi). And the catwalk models who are made-up are wearing looks that you're unlikely to see at your local Estee Lauder counter, like black paste-on eyebrows or asymmetric pink stripes on their eyelids. And my friends who work in cosmetics (and who are very stylish) don't wear much makeup either.

I suppose that's partly because trying too hard is never elegant and fussy hair and makeup are a definite give-away that you've spent a massive amount of time and effort. And if you have beautiful clothes, you don't want your face to rub off on them. But also, makeup can be really creepy. It's like overly aggressive plastic surgery - except (thankfully) not permanent!

Let me just say here - I'm still on the quest for the perfect lipstick (though like the holy grail, I think it's a myth) and I find eye shadow color palettes as tempting as a paint box, so I'm definitely not a "naked face" kind of person. But to me, fashion is an expression of your personality and opens you up to the world, while heavily applied makeup is a mask. No matter how natural the makeup person tells you your look is, a full face of foundation, cheek-bone sculpting blush, and oil-slick rainbow eyes is anything but - and it's instantly aging, making a 25-year old look like a 50-year old with a good facelift. I guess it's sort of the equivalent of wearing thick, beige, granny hose. Pretty much in all situations, skin looks better. Plus, we look at faces to see visual cues that reflect a person's feelings and thoughts. But if you see that they've got darker powder on both sides of their nose because they're trying to make it look thinner, that's all you'll be able to look at.

I have in mind one of the female reporters on CNBC as I write that. Since I sit on a trading desk, I watch CNBC all day and I can't help but think that a lot of the reporters look like dragon lady hookers, oompa loompahs, or just weird (e.g., the victim of the before-mentioned nose slimming attempt that reminds me of Steve Martin in Roxanne). You'd think that the producers would aim for a polished, professional look (not Eliot Spitzer's kind of "pro") for the female reporters but that doesn't seem to be the case. In some instances, I feel like the make-up person is like a kid who didn't like the face that was outlined in her coloring book, so just started drawing her own features over the outlines, even though they didn't match what was there. The effect is very distracting, to say the least, and I find it difficult to listen to what they're saying. It's not only the women, by the way. One of the most conservative of the male anchors (and a very dapper dresser I must say), has a very obvious "tan" line that stops below his jaw. (And I will add that the reporters who look most natural are the biggest stars, so I don't think it's just me who would prefer to see a real-looking face!)

Maybe it's just that the average make-up artist (and plastic surgeon) seems to want to make everyone look kind of the same: a generic, inoffensive average. There are some real artists, I'm sure, but I haven't come across any. Style, on the other hand, is about finding your own way away from the average. Maybe that's why the most stylish women I know have found their own looks and ignore the makeup counter lady's advice.