This fashion tale begins with death.
The living dead, to be exact.
I was week four into recovery from an abdominal surgery, and had only recently began walking again. (Read: Hobbling like a rickety swamp creature.) That afternoon, Women’s Magazine stylist Angel Garcia asked me if I had time to pose of a fashion photo shoot for her portfolio.
Obviously I had time. My entire month’s social activities centered around Brian “Bulldog” Moore and Frank Azar. And I had already determined I didn’t want to consolidate my debt into one easy payment, become an automotive repair technician or partake in a class-action lawsuit for the drug Rybotrichomatomatein.
But fashion? Judge Judy would object. In addition to my hunchback posture, I had been wearing the same sweats for so long they were beginning to grow into my flesh. Probably.
“Perfect,” Angel said. “That’s why I asked you. It’s a zombie shoot.”
Um, thanks?
With no legitimate way out, I traded daytime TV for a black tutu and (for once) nodded approvingly at my tangled bedhead and the circles under my eyes that rivaled an entire baggage cart. I could not do much, but I could do zombie.
When my boyfriend walked in that night — expecting his little injured fawn curled around a heating pad — he instead found me with more stitches than before, hunched over the table with bloody hands and a fake heart dangling out of my mouth. Without a word, he slowly backed out the door. I found him a while later, locked in his car rocking back and forth humming nursery rhymes.
A zombie bomb, photo by Molly Plann.
I had gone too far. Again. It was time to head into the light.
In fashion (and life), we must constantly re-invent ourselves. Sometimes, the change is sparked by boredom, or nature (i.e. the “angel wings” I am growing where I used to have triceps) or, as in this case, the need for balance. And a scared boyfriend.
The depth of my fashion rut became clear when I realized most of my closet qualified as a zombie costume. Perhaps it was a way to free myself of Westwood College’s exquisite commercials, but I became obsessed with finding the perfect white dress.
Not for marriage. For balancing out my dark side.
Enter: The innocent age.
I have long criticized the white wedding tradition, believing white is a universally unflattering color, not to mention almost universally deceitful. I have a vase of near-black roses in my living room. (Yes, next to the fake heart with a stake through it.)
That’s why I had to seek help from the yang to my yin: My best friend, Brittany. Platinum blonde Brittany who has more white, eyelet and cotton in her closet than a Holister store.
I did a little research first and found out that hip trench coats, oversized necklaces and military jackets actually come in colors other than black. Who knew? And according to Glamour magazine, the little black dress has been replaced by a little-black-on-white-graphic-print dress.
Then Brittany arrived — wearing a black and purple tutu, black leggings, a black tank top, black vest and purple pumps. She looked like Coraline. Or me.
I grabbed up the first white satin dress I saw at Macy’s. It might have been a knee-length wedding gown. I don’t know. Or care. I just needed to reset the balance of the universe.
Plus, adding some light to my life sounded like an appropriate way to begin re-inventing myself. I put on the white dress.
It looked great with my black boots, black pearl necklace, black sash and long black jacket.
I left the fake heart at home.
According to Mac make-up, you don’t have to be black or white; you don’t have to wear pastel colors in the spring.
One of Mac’s current make-up trends is “Re-Evolutionary Nature.” It is a softer, less dramatic smoky eye. Cat eyes of the ’50s, but done with shadow so it’s softer than with a liquid liner.
Here are tips on re-evolutionizing your eye make-up, according to Tiffany Creamer, who works at Boulder’s Mac store on the Twenty Ninth Street mall. Turns out this look goes with both black and white.
Your eyelids can be divided into four sections: the lid, crease, brow and highlight. That’s why Mac sells shadow in four-part palates.
Start with a shadow primer in a skin-tone. This prevents creases in the darker colors.
Use a light color, such as Dazzle Light ($14.50 per shadow), to highlight the brow bone. Avoid white. This looks too artificial.
Brush a darker matte color — I used Bamboo, with an orange undertone to reflect the blue in my eyes. This adds definition. Always use one matte color; all shimmering reflects only one surface.
Blend over the lid with the smoky color of your choice, such as Night Divine. Smudge it at the lash line and pull it out into wings, following the arch of the bottom lash line upward. Create a cat-eye shape, but more blurred than the traditional ’50s liner style.
Line and blend into the crease with a darker color, such as Carbon.
Touch up with concealer under the eyes and edges to clean it up.
Outline and define the cat eye with black liquid liner.
Optional No. 1: Use a soft kohl eyeliner pencil to draw a thin line on the inside of your bottom lash line, aka your “water line.” Not under the lash line.
Optional No. 2: Apply a shimmery gloss in the middle of the lid, above the pupil, to make it shine. Mac’s eye gloss is a big seller this season, although I don’t like this runway trick because it made my eyes feel sticky and caused the shadow to crease.
Optional No. 3: Dab a light-colored frosty shadow color at your tear duct. This opens your eyes and pushes them apart. Note: If you are an obsessive eye toucher or your eyes water a lot, this will vanish before you put it on.
Optional No. 4: Throw on some limited Hello Kitty brand eyelashes, very unique looking lashes designed to accentuate the cat shape. Tip: Letting the eyelash glue dry a bit first assures they will stick better. Don’t over-glue it, either. You don’t need much.
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