He's a Smooth Talker, Clearly
When I started representing Peekaboo Magazine on the morning news earlier this year, I immediately went to Target to stock up on liquid foundation and extra blush. On my assigned Mondays I have gotten up at 4:45, plastered on a TV-worthy mask, and tried to be perky for the cameras. It's fun, I've learned a lot, including the fact that people who look small on TV are actually of the Elfin race. I now understand eating disorders and addictions to plastic surgery. Let's just say hi-def keeps you humble.
The news segments continue to be a wonderful experience, but one thing had to change: the drag queen makeup. I had been toying with the idea of toning down the makeup for weeks and then I got the perfect opportunity. I had to work a shift for a school fundraiser immediately following my last appearance. I'd be sorting books in a dusty warehouse, with a bunch of moms I'd never met. I feared My Dancing with the Stars look would not be well received.
So I wielded a lighter hand. With the exception of a little extra blush, I wore the same makeup I wear on any other day. (Okay, the days I actually shower and get dressed in something more than yoga pants.)
As soon as I'd finished at school, I came home and watched the clip, which of course is not hi-def. I asked my husband later if he'd watched the news that morning.
"Yeah, depressing topic."
"I know. How did I look?"
He knows the answer to this one. "You looked great."
"Thanks, but did I look different?"
Flashes of terror, confusion, and decision moved over his face. "Yes," he said.
"I'm not asking you to say I looked different. I want to know if I did."
"You looked great."
"But did I look different. Because I did my makeup differently."
"Uh… yeah, you did."
"What did I look like?"
"You looked… clean."
As opposed to all those others times I've been on video looking like a dirty girl? "What does that mean?"
"I don't know. You just looked really clear."
"Like I was in HD?"
"Exactly!"
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