I had a moment of truth at the Clinique counter.
This was shocking not because I was having a moment of truth in the middle of Macy's (I have had several moments of truth in Macy's before. That time I realized that since I broke my foot last summer my right foot has gone up almost a shoe size (yikes). Or that time I thought I could wear a petite shirt if I just went up a size (that does not work, especially if you're a tall gal unless you are into looking like you borrowed a child's suit jacket). But the fact that it occur ed while buying makeup was quite a shock.
First of all, I have never been much for foundation/coverup. While I take my freckles with a grain of salt, the skin gods have made up for it by giving me relatively blemish free skin and also I can barely be bothered to moisturize let alone throw another layer on up there. But as I get older, I see what a difference a little more time spent on getting ready for the day can do for your morale and decided to give this whole foundation thing a try. So I popped over to the Clinique counter when I was at the mall and asked the sales lady what she could do for me.
After listening to what I wanted (something really light, not make-upy with SPF) she recommended something called "Almost Makeup" and produced a few tester tubes to apply and see which shade worked best. After slathering on a little of each one, she said "A ha!" and told me she had found my perfect shade. I was thinking it was probably "Medium" or maybe "Neutral"
F*cking fair. She who is half Lebanese and apparently totally self-unaware has to use the LIGHTEST foundation shade that Clinique makes.
I, as you can imagine, did not conceal my shock and shame at her statement. "Are you sure!?" I asked her. "I mean I know I'm not dark but I can't be that light. Seriously? The lightest shade?". She assured me it was true and when I looked in the mirror I had to admit it was true.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with being pale. I love pale porcelain looking skin I just tend not to think of myself that way. Really I just can't reconcile my heritage. I think I'm an Arabian princess but I'm actually an Irish street person. I'm like Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin at the beginning of Beetlejuice.....hanging out with people thinking I'm alright but really I'm a GHOST. But there you have it. I am FAIR. I said it and it's fine. If I were any fairer I couldn't even buy foundation at Clinique. I would have to go to Casper's.
So what does this pale beast do when faced with this particular moment of truth?
She toddled right over to CVS to indulge in a little denial.
Ahhhhh. Much better.