It always takes me forever to choose which shoes to wear in the morning that I end up skipping the make up step so as not to be late for my rendez-vous. That’s the way it goes for a hopeless fashion slave such as myself. Feet before head. Ah, bravo.
Since my twenties, I’ve always considered my face perfectly made up as soon as I’m done applying my day and eye cream. The rest of my beauty routine takes time and therefore, it’s a luxury I can’t afford.
Besides, I hate using my fingers to apply foundation. Eww. Gross.
So I’ve been trying to resist foundation for the looooooooongest time.
I hung onto my illusions believing that a simple puff of mineral powder on the face would do the trick. Smiling at life, I was totally unconscious to The Truth.
Except that The Truth hit me right in the face in a mirror in the dull and dreary lights of the Paris metro. Who the hell put that mirror there!? After having seen my head, the color of a recently unearthed endive, I quickly understood why some people prefer to take a taxi.
In short, after one good look at my mug, I decided I needed to make a stop at Havre-Caumartin.
I penetrated the compound that is Printemps de la Beauté, high-heeled and shamefully foreign to this scented universe. I was surprised to see some of the improvements that have been made since 1896. That’s the last time I was on the cosmetician’s turf.
At last! The labs have thought of me. Of course, me! Me and only me! It’s like how it is with me and Gad Elmaleh*. He’s talking directly to ME when he’s doing his standup. Sorry to tell you ladies, but that’s how it is. We’ve got each other on Bluetooth, him and I.
Indeed, the cosmetic gods have thought of me, and my future meeting with Gad, who I wouldn’t want to scare away with my wilted endive complexion, even if it must have been ages since he’s last taken the metro.
So they have created a foundation that comes with a built-in applicator brush. No need to use your fingers.
Ouais, I know. Yet another product for us to buy. Ouais, I know, it’s just some gadget. Ouaaaaais, I know. But if you hate using your fingers, you can buy your favorite foundation and just use it with the brush. Ouais, I know. And on top of that, I end up with the By Terry brand, just because of the ultra-chic metallic mauve flask that I’ll end up tossing anyway.
I rediscovered the joys of foundation. Apply it well and it gives you nothing more than a discreet and wonderfully sheer, luminous, and even finish. Dab on an anti-dark circle eye cream and voilà, my skin becomes a silky-smooth canvas on which I can take delight in adding a little blush to my cheeks and shadow to my eyes.
Foundation, you are second to none. No powder, no tinted moisturizer can measure up to your greatness. To you, I surrender.
Because when the day comes that I bump into Gad, even if I’m absolutely convinced that he’ll have the smarts to look at my shoes first, I dare hope he lifts his eyes right away to look at my face. And he’ll see that intensely impious wink that I do intend to give him, and with that, I better have that impeccable skin to match.
* A French one-man show humorist of Moroccan-Jewish descent, who was voted as the Funniest Person in France in 2007. His latest stand-up comedy is called Papa est en haut (Dad is upstairs). Elmaleh is also an actor who starred in several French movies, among them: Coco (his debut as a film director;showing 2009), Hors de Prix with Audrey Tautou (English: Priceless), La Doublure (English: The Valet) and Comme ton père. Oh, my Gad!
Translation : Magali Eva Suárez.