Friday morning, on my way into work, I found myself standing in front of a woman who was applying her makeup on the train. She started with her eyes. Shadow, more shadow, another color of shadow. The entire eyelid, from the lashes up to the brows.
I’ve never watched this happen before. She was seated, but three feet away was a standing woman applying mascara with one hand, the other doubly gripping a compact mirror and the metal pole to balance herself. I looked up and down the train car to see if anyone else was changing their appearance.
The woman in front of me finished her eyes and moved on to the dark circles beneath. She dabbed some flesh toned cream under each eye then rubbed it in. Dropping that bottle into her purse she pulled out another cream to rub into her forehead and cheeks and chin. A brush was produced from her bag to powder on some blush to each cheekbone.
The woman holding onto the bar was applying lipstick now. She wasn’t using the compact mirror anymore, but looking at her reflection in the train window. The people standing next to her didn’t seem to notice.
I looked back to the woman in front of me. She was combing her eyelashes, seperating any tangles or clumping. Then she plunged the brush into her bottle of mascara and meticulously applied the black ink to every lash. She looked up at me watching her between working on eyes. I smiled meekly. I was caught staring.
She finished both eyes, then whipped out a bottle of lip gloss. It was red. She brushed that onto her lips, very carefully. And finally a compact to cover the entire face with a layer of flesh toned powder.
What a process. She looked good.
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