Macy's Makeup Machinations

Step up to the cosmetic counter—thirty minutes to be completely made-over.

Tall white chairs and convex mirrors, color palates and free lipstick samples.

                                  Soaps

and washes

and gels

and cleansers

and toners

and lotions

and creams

and foundations

and concealers;

shelves upon shelves are stocked with beautifying supplements and smoothing agents, lip plumpers and lash extenders, tinted mascara and defining pencils.

Take a seat and gamble.

Tall slender women in white knee-length coats, faces a perfect velvet sheen, hair sprayed stiff, and lipstick spread thick, stare across freckles noting every “imperfection.”

Out come the tweezers and the exfoliating sponges. Next are countless “mineral enriched” powders and the tubes filled with “moisture locking” shades of brown, just a bit darker and a little hotter. Plaster on the cheeks, a creamy solution of color. Pinks and bronze are liberally applied to achieve a faux “natural” look—a flawless complexion. Eyelids twitch as black runs the edges. A bristly wand combs through eyelashes several times to ensure voluminous and extra long, sexy lashes. Foam brushes, blending sparkling sultry shadows, enhance the new foxy persona. Add a spritz of a seductive fragrance and walk out of the mall, a perfect goddess of Sephora.

But really, its all worth it, especially when it all washes off tonight in the shower.

*~*~*~*~*

This is my final! declamation, but I still have some time to change it. Any ideas?