Chapter 4
I have more Lipsticks than Panties.

First if you have a lot of lipsticks, they seldom wear out, especially when I constantly buy the same colors accidently of course. I only wear  fuchsia, red, and occasionally in the summer, coral. And there is always something new being invented, like a million shades of red every year.

My newest addition after I swore never again, is L’Oréal ever lasting something. Its so inexpensive it has no label except Loreal . I mean I was married to Tom Ford. But really I save that for only special occasions. You do know the cheaper anything is the more you use it.

Why do some women like makeup, and others just wake up and go into the world just like they were created?

Why does the cosmetic industry spend billions of dollars advertising everything and so many women don’t even own a lipstick? I am talking about us, Americans& Europeans, not the poor of the third world countries who probably do have at least some kohl for their eyes.

I think being brunette makes one automatically more exotic; our inner gypsy spirit comes to the surface as soon as we start walking. In the end we all go grey, but does grey make our exoticness? The grey hairs are like splashes of water on a fire. I try to keep the fire going with makeup. Eyes and lips, Botox, Juvederm, Restalyne. Facial cocktails to take twice a year.

I don’t get it. Do you? I started getting my first makeup lesson in Brooklyn NY, when I was 19 and a student at Pratt, I wanted that Brooklyn look so bad, black eyes, big hair. From that point on, I studied and practiced and became best friends with any make up artists that came my way. I never ever wanted anything natural, I am just so much an anti-natural woman. By the way it took me my whole life before I would even where a nude shoe….


So my life long philosophy of “Too Much is Not Enough” blossomed very early. As early as the first Friday night record hop when the boys all were on one side and the girls on the other, and everything got started when that first boy had the courage to walk that empty, lonely dance floor to choose a girl he wanted to grind into. At that point somewhere around my 15th year of living, I figured out if I wore something really bright, that boy would find me a lot easier. The girls that blended in and were not asked to dance became the wallflowers. I became the burning bush!

So it began, bright clothes, teased hair (could never imagine a life without my steel comb), black eyes and Fabulash mascara. We walked around with big cans of Aqua-Net hair spray in our so not “it” bags. It was Massachusetts in the 60s and I knew this was just a temporary part of my life.

I loved shoes even then and if it was a pointed little flat with a thing on it, I loved it even more. Shoes cost $9.99 then and those were the expensive ones. I shopped at the local discount shoe store, Smiths, where they had a family of 3 Portuguese boys working. We all went there on Saturdays for the shoes and the boys. It was the same time the movie “Where the Boys Are?” In my town they were at the shoe store. $3.99 was the average price. And that is how it all started, In Milford Massachusetts.