UNDER THE LASH – with Laura Albert
Dear Shaded Viewers,
Being a judge at film festivals has taught me the most useful
appearance-upkeep strategy for traveling. Forget the stuff we always
read in beauty mags, like the importance of sleep (if you are
jet-lagged, you won't sleep) or drinking gallons of lemon water
(you'll be imbibing coffee, even if you detest the stuff) or just
saying no to sugar (you will eat seek out dark chocolate as if you are
a jonesing crack ho.) It doesn't matter what mascara you buy — even
if your local makeup barista swears upon the Lincoln Bible that you
can reenact Singin' In The Rain during a class-three hurricane and
this product will not budge. It will. In fact, that mascara will be
rubbed and blinked off by an exhausted (or caffeine-amped) you. You
will be landfilling in those crevices under the windows to your sweet
soul until Google Maps starts capturing those eye hollows and
identifying them as previously uncharted swamps in West Virginia.
Not even faithfully used Latisse or mascara, no matter how much filler
and lacquer they mix in, can endow you with the capacity to do that
moment in the Sally Rand feather dance, where you bat your lashes —
not the way fakies will. The only problem is that it becomes
addictive, looking at yourself in the mirror and getting flirted with
by your reflection. Then the next thing you know, they're not just for
travel anymore…
I confess that I don't wear makeup to the gym. But going there with
the lashes, it is kinda like cheating. I've noticed how I'll work out
harder when doing some torturous butt lift stuff, if I wink at myself
in the mirror —
