"Okay, we have time for a short lesson. We'll do eyes tonight. Sit," she said, pulling out the chair at the vanity table.
I did so, and she came around behind me and looked at me in the Mirror. She tilted her head as she thought and then nodded at a decision she had made.
"We need to make your eyes appear larger, just like I have to do with mine. Keep one eye open while I do the other so you can see how it works and do it yourself afterward, okay?"
"Sure," I said, even though I didn't think we had the same shape and size eyes, just like I didn't think we had the exact same complexion. However, I was intrigued with the whole idea of making up my face. Not only weren't we permitted to wear lipstick at school, I had never owned a tube of one or ever borrowed anyone else's to put on after school.
She reached into the bag and produced a tin of eye shadow. Using the brush on the table, she dipped it into the tin and then brought the brush to my eye.
"From the lash line to the brow," she said, and did it.
She opened another tin and took up another brush.
"We'll use a medium-tone color for the crease beneath the brow," she said, and blended it in. Then she reached for an eye pencil. "Work from the outer corner to the inner corner and stay close to your lashes. Then line the bottom lid from the outer corner only about one-third of the way, see?" she asked as she demonstrated it all.
"Yes."
"Okay," she said, and took up the eye-shadow brush again. "Let's add another layer of light eye shadow from the lash line to the brow bone, blending like so." After that she picked up a cotton swab. "Be sure to get rid of any excess makeup and dust away any loose powder. I just hate it when those old ladies come with makeup dripping all down their cheeks. They look like their faces are coming apart right before our eyes, shedding like snakes or something.
"Now," she said, returning to the pouch, "we just apply the mascara. Pull the wand straight up like this, see? Don't pull it out. Then lightly do the bottom lashes. Voila!" she cried, stepping back after she had done it. "Look at the difference between your madeup eye and the other."
I nodded, impressed.
She stepped up and put her arms around my shoulders, bringing her cheek next to mine as she spoke to me through the mirror.
"There are lots of little tricks I'm going to teach you, Celeste. It will be like just doing it for the first time again for me. Your face will be my face, and vice versa." She stepped back. "Go on, do your other eye yourself. I'll watch," she said, folding her arms.
I did it, following the steps she had
demonstrated. When I was finished, she clapped.
"That was perfect, and the first time, too. You are a fast learner."
It's not brain surgery, I thought, but didn't say it.
"The next time we'll work on how to make your lips look fuller. We'll experiment with different shades. We'll put on different eyes. We'll do all of it! I can show you how to put makeup on so yo
ur whole face is sexier. Good girls can be devilish, too," she said, laughing.
She returned to her small leather pouch.
"For now, try this lipstick. It's subtle," she said, removing the top. It didn't look subtle to me. "Oh, wait," she said, reaching into the bag again. "Put on this lip gloss first. It will keep your lips from looking dried out. Go on," she said when I hesitated. I did it and then applied the lipstick. "It does look like you're doing it for the first time," she said, snatching the tube from my hand. "Don't press so hard."
She took a tissue and wiped the corner of my mouth. Then she looked at me and nodded.
"You're a perfect candidate for improvement," she said, which raised my eyebrows. "Anyone can use improvement, Celeste. Even me," she said with a laugh. "One more thing." She reached into the bag. "Use this cologne. Basil loves it on me. Okay, get dressed. We'll go down to dinner together, but we'll go down at least ten minutes late. Never, ever be on time for anything that involves men," she advised. "The worst thing you can do is let a man take you for granted. And here's a secret my own mother taught me."
She leaned toward me to whisper, as if the room was bugged and it really was a big secret. I held my breath in anticipation.
"Always make a big deal over the smallest things. If your boyfriend forgets to open the door for you or bring out your chair at the dinner table or walks ahead of you, pounce on him as if he committed murder."
She pulled back and smiled.
"He'll think to himself, If she makes so much of that, what would she do if I did something significant? It's always good to keep them retreating."
"It sounds like a war, not a romance," I said before I could stop myself.
She stopped smiling, thought a moment, and then her smile returned like a wave of glee, undulating down from her temples, around her eyes, and over her lips.