Baby Jane Makeup Tutorial

{alternatively titled: look, I made myself super ugly}

On Saturday I put the call out on my Facebook page for advice. Because that is what Facebook is for these days since it obviously isn't for promoting blogs to real people any more, not even when you pay *grumble grumble*. I was meant to be going to a murder mystery party as Bette Davis and didn't know whether to go young and glam (like Bette in Jezebel) or old and insane (like Bette in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?).

My initial urge, the one felt deep down next to my foofu valve, was to go old and ugly just because it would give me a chance to whip out my makeup kit again. It's been a while since I stopped taking on makeup clients but I still have all the cool stuff. Plus if I make myself look ugly with makeup, when I take it off I look fucking gorgeous in comparison.

You lot came to the party with the vast majority voting for old and ugly. I love youse guise!

An hour is all it takes to turn me from a 30 year old to an old and insane Baby Jane. I had a head start on the insane, obviously. I put these photos on Instagram (follow me for more fugmo pictures) and managed to scare a few of you. You're welcome.

I practiced the facial expressions for ages, so can we all just appreciate the grumpy I'm-batshit-crazy-and-am-going-to-run-you-over-with-my-car glare for a moment?

So how do you turn yourself in to Baby Jane Hudson? In 9 simple steps! (Click on the pics for larger, scarier pics - do so at your own risk).

1. Start with a blank palate. This is also called your face if you're not a wanker. Pin your hair back

2. Put a metric fucktonne of full coverage foundation on in a colour that is a few shades too light - Baby Jane makeup is packed on because that bitch was crazy. It didn't come across too well in my selfies but my new found ability to raise one eyebrow did so it's still a win.

3. With a brown liquid makeup (I used Ben Nye wet/dry theatre makeup but you can use brown eyeliner or even a matte eyeshadow & water), start drawing in some lines with a fine brush to create shadows. To know where they go, pull faces and draw in the lines you create! Lift your eyebrows, BAM forehead wrinkles, scrunch your nose, BAM eyebrow wrinkles, squint, BAM crows feet. You are guaranteed to look like a tool while you do it.

4. Make the lines even darker then stop to Instagram the shit out of your new look. Poke your head around the corner where your husband is cooking dinner and say "Have a sneak peek at your future, honeybuns!"

5. Add a shed load of black eyeliner to the top and bottom lids. I used Ben Nye wet/dry theatre makeup again but any eyeliner will do. If it smudges, that's OK! This bitch is cray cray and it will just help the look.

6. Add false lashes. I used the biggest pair of black lashes I could find on the top because I was going for a caricature look. Falsies on the lower lashes are perfect for this look but if you don't have them, draw some on with black liquid eyeliner.

 

7. Add a bright blush to the apples of your cheeks only, as if you're dressing up as some aging cupie doll... oh wait, you ARE! Then grab a red lip liner and give yourself exaggerated lips - yes, draw outside the line, it will feel gross but it is for the greater good - smoosh on some red lippy over the top for good measure and don't forget your beauty mark (even though it isn't visible in the stock photo above it is in the film).

8. Get wiggy with it. Pin the sides back slightly to create the bouffant mullet look that old Jane preferred.

9. Add extra crazy for good measure.

VOILA! You are now Baby Jane Hudson and will harbour the urge to overshadow your sister!

As an extra step, when you get to the party where you've only met three of the other guests before and 90% of the people have never even heard of the character you're dressed up as, be sure to loudly declare "I'M NORMALLY MUCH LESS UGLY!". If nothing else it means they'll back away and leave you next to the food table alone.

Do you go all out for fancy dress parties?

7 things I hated about being a Beauty Therapist

Image adapted from Sérgio (Savaman) Savarese via Wikimedia Commons

I was a beauty therapist and makeup artist in my time PT (pre-Tricky). After studying feminism at uni the decision to become someone who faffs about with skincare and makeup raised a few soon to be perfectly coiffed eyebrows.

Despite my lecturers almost having heart attacks on my transition to the beauty world, I never saw what I did as anti-feminist. Every day in my job I made women feel better about the skin they were in. I might not have agreed with everything they chose to do, but telling them they can't wax off every single hair on their whole body because I thought it made them look prepubescent isn't very feminist either. Each to their own and all that jazz. Or all that vajazzle as the case may be.

Making women feel beautiful was actually pretty awesome. I was good at eyebrow shaping and given virgin eyebrows could make you look like you'd had an eye lift with a bit of wax and some perfectly aligned tweezers. I was also good at speedy brazillians but that's a different and rather more painful story.

There were definitely downsides to the job though:

1. Forgetting client names/faces. If you spend 90% of the time with your client looking at their vag, it's bound to happen. I'd usher them in to the room, wracking my brain about who it was, come back, remove the towel and BINGO... "So, Janet, how'd your date with Stewart go?". I never forget a vagina.
2. Whiffy clients. Ladies, please, if you've been at work all day and popped in for a quick wax on the way home, you're not at your freshest. It's not hard to use the freshening wipes provided. You're paying for them after all.
3. Manky clients. Completely different to the whiffy clients because these ones just filthy all over. I once had a young girl come in for a massage and the grime around her neck made me want to puke. When she piped up with "if you see any ticks just flick them off, I've just come back from camping", a little bit of my soul died.
4. Cranky latecomers. I get it, shit happens and you're late. But when you arrive 20 minutes late for a 30 minute appointment then yell at me when I tell you we have to downgrade your treatment? Then I get shitty and the urge to not be so gentle with the wax on your labia. Seriously gals, don't piss off your waxer.
5. Unrealistic expectations. Having a client request a makeup style that you know will look horrible and despite trying to persuade them they'll look shit unless you tone it down, they are adamant they want the catwalk look. So you do it... and they hate it... and you have to take it off and re-do it all, putting you behind schedule. The urge to scream "I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO" is rather strong.
6. Feet. Having to touch someone's feet when you have podophobia brings on cold sweats and panic attacks. I went to therapy to help with my issues and I could focus and get through it but I would have to disinfect my hands afterwards. With bleach. I once did a pedicure on a woman who only had nine toes as a result of an "accident" involving her brother and a sharp axe.
7. Assumptions. People generally assumed that I was a Beauty Therapist because I was too stupid to do anything else. They always I assumed I was a high school drop out. I was a uni drop out, GET IT RIGHT! It was with these folk that I'd always use the big words and I'll never forgetting pulling the dihydrogen monoxide joke on one of those bitches clients.

So there you have it. There were more positives than negatives and a lot of that was to do with the girls I worked with who made it fun. I even liked them enough to invite them to my extremely-awesome-but-strictly-budgeted wedding, so that's saying something.

On a side note, if you have a weak constitution, turn on SafeSearch when you *ahem* search for images of a facial.

What do you hate about your job?