Oh, don't pretend like you don't have one!
Instead of spending my twenties making the best mistakes of my life, I like nothing more than indulging in laziness at home when I have no social obligations clawing at my door. Somehow, I still end up in bed at 3 A.M., and my body doesn’t want to rouse until the sun has hit its zenith. I’m not even doing anything! I’m probably just eBaying things like clip-in bangs, and kitty-eared iPhone cases (the treasures you can find from Chinese wholesalers!).
But this doesn’t mean I don’t have a healthy sense of going-outsideness. Especially if there’s food involved.
Like any other Brooklynite, I’m a fan of brunch. It used to be a froofy thing you did with your girlfriends (back when hetero girls referred to their female hetero friends as “girlfriends”) when you could all find the time to get together to catch up (girlfriends are always needing to catch up for some reason). Brunch is the earliest socializing most people will do at the latest possible time you can still validate the breakfast portion of it.
I’ve always been a purveyor of “show, don’t tell” and find explaining myself utterly tedious; so rather than have to listen to my own voice itemize the nothing I did last Friday night and watch the glazed-over don’t-care expression of whoever is shoveling eggs benedict in front of me, I prefer to avoid the whole thing and let them assume.
So in order to get that “I just came here directly from the loft of that hot drummer-cum-barista who doesn’t have a bed frame” look, here’s how to fancy yourself that post-party visage. Sure, you could just put on makeup and then sleep in it, but that takes prior planning, plus I’m SPONTANEOUS and FUN and other traits designed to make dudes oblivious to the fact that I might want one of them to be my boyfriend.
You might wonder why you would want to make a sporting event of the walk-of-shame. Honestly, most of the time, you don’t. I don’t. You would probably much prefer it if this was a “How to not look like a hot mess after making dubious decisions last night” tutorial, but I would never want to encourage behavior that would make girls feel ashamed about that kind of stuff.
And also, it looks so cool in the movies. To me, at least. Am I the only one? I mean, sometimes it’s fun to step into the glamorous and impractical shoes of a B-rated rom-com. Top inspo: Brittany Murphy’s rendition of a modern day Holly Golightly in Love And Other Disasters. Close second: Marisa Tomei in almost everything from the '90s. 200 Cigarettes, anybody? Decades from now you can look back fondly on the fun you never had in your twenties the same way you look back half-fondly/half-cringing at junior high when you thought looking like a Hot Topic employee was the epitome of cool.
OK, here is my arsenal:
First, you’re going to want to take that square-looking flat brush and give it a good swirl in that pot of black cream eyeliner (I like Buxom’s lashliner in Leatherette). And then swipe a thick line on top of your lashes. Mine just ended up in a cat eye because that’s where my swoop wants to go. It’s the only style I really wear black eyeliner in. Shrug.
Anyway, cat eye not necessary if that’s not your thing, but it doesn’t hurt. You don’t need to worry too much about neatness for this step because, hold on. I will show you--JEEZ.
Next, take that shimmery brown eyeshadow, MAC’s Romp (hehe), and with that short stumpy brush, do what the brush says (it says "smudge").
Smudge shadow over that black eyeliner right above where the liner is on your lid until two become one and the result is a shimmery shadow of what once was. I take mine up to and into the crease for depth.
“Hol' up,” you may be saying, “This is just some basic smoky eye BS.” To which I tell you, “You are thisclose to succumbing to Hikikomori, so you don’t get to tell me what things are!” Just for that, MOAR SMUDGING 4 U!
Next is the arguably fun part. Ever hear that term “tarantula eyes”? That seductively creepy effect that happens when you OD on mascara? My acrylic-clawed leopard-print-clad high school guidance counselor had this exact gaze, “Miss Gigi” Carmello, bless her heart.
So what you wanna do is take your mascara, preferably of the volumizing/lengthening variety (I’m using Buxom’s Amplified mascara) and wiggle it side to side from the roots to the tips of your top and bottom lashes. And then let it dry. And then DO IT AGAIN. I know, baby girl, you're scared. But trust me, you're gonna be a star!
Theoretically, your face has been smeared on someone else’s pillow for the last six hours, right? Pinch clumps of lashes together with your fingers. Just think of the Statue of Liberty’s spikes. Try not to think about how I just used the word “clumps” (sorry). We want to bundle those lashes wholesale.
Eschew blush in favor of a shimmery highlighter. Why? Because, you party animal, your face game just got elevated!
Highlighter is a wonderful substitute for blush when you want to glow but don’t necessarily need to sculpt. But it’s no wimp. Highlighter is like the drag queen of blush—always on top and way more frightening under fluorescent lighting.
Apply it sparingly in your blush zones and also on all the places you’re supposed to put highlighter: brow bones, cheek bones, down the nose. You want to look like your blush played musical chairs on your face through the night. Subtle, pretty, kind of indiscriminate. I like NARS Illuminator in Orgasm.
Next! A pout that pouts. Seriously.
I’m a big fan of lip stain because I want to appear effortless and like I’m not trying even though everyone knows that not trying is for the French.
Laura Mercier makes my favorite lip stain, in Mulberry. It comes in a pot and it’s got a creamy consistency so you don’t have to suffer from dry lip even though it just looks like you are.
Take the pad of your ring finger and press the stuff into your lips starting from the inner parts working outwards. And if you happen to go too far, just go with it… But not too far! Far enough to just fuzz the outline of your lips. You had an epic make-out sesh with a 5 o’clock shadow, not a circus clown. I top mine off with lip balm because my mouth craves moisture.
The last is the totally crucial part: Bed head. It’s a real thing, people. The literal incarnation is rarely come-hither, so you’re going to have to make like you had that and then did something about it.
Cue the mid-'90s half-updo. It’s not hard--you just pull the front and top layers of your hair back and pile it on top of your dome. Pull some face-framing bits out and make it a bit messy but not “piecey” (for some reason I remember reading a lots of issues of YM and Seventeen that pushed hair product that upped your pieciness). Props if you use a throwback butterfly clip instead of a hair band.
And now you are ready for a delightful late-morning/early-afternoon meal full of evasive conversation tactics! Or just looking like a rough-and-tumble badass chick. On the upside, you come off as a really good listener when, instead of explaining that your Friday night consisted of moving the furniture around in your bedroom before you decided that you actually like it best the way it was before, you appear coolly aloof, supposedly reminiscing on what’s-his-face as you study the menu with your passionately effed-up eye makeup.
Oh, and one more thing: I would suggest wearing all black, something artfully torn, or perhaps an oversized t-shirt that one would suspect belongs to not you.