Yummy Skin: a Makeup Artist’s Secret

Yes, it’s a thing now.

Skin described as something delectable, ambrosial, visually nom nom nom-ish, and how else do you describe something you imbue with your…..”ah..ah..ah…”…, exhale? After all aesthetic professionals don’t just apply and describe our “makeups” and skin care. No….we draught, muddle, elixir, tincture. A makeup artist imbues their canvas, and sometimes the only way to do that is with all the senses. O.k. Don’t lick nobody; I’m not suggesting cannibalism. But sometimes it involves a little imagination that may make the mouth water.

“Why?”

“See…There’s nothing rational about what we do.”

If it holds true that reason is the source of human knowledge, then beauty (as we know it) would be a series of flats and rounds, known to the human race as perhaps a “this” or a “that.” However, we don’t. We live in a world of “others.”

While general features: eyes, nose, lips are common to everyone alike, the topography of each face is unexplored territory- unknown to hands (unless you are blind) and often eyes. (Hey, I’ve been told my face is weird in foreign countries.) Therefore, phenotype are rendered, delicate objects mapped through the senses, and not through the cognitive reasoning of race or ethnic categories, known to every pedestrian doused in plain ole lanolin (Shudders at the thought of plain lanolin, with no rosehips or grape seed.). For if it were that simple, categorizations, sub categorizations, and mixed categorizations could be assigned a face. Then skin care, makeup, hair care and… ta-ta-ta-ta application would be just “that:” a probable outcome from the die of social constructs. The end result…? One that, hence, would lack the artistry component. But it isn’t so.

So when @Miss Jo Baker says you look… “Yummy,” after applying Rimmel London’s Perfect Match Foundation in a couple of sweeps, I gracefully glide my arms through first, second, out to third position, Ah…I protrude my neck like a peacock; so she and Madame @cakeandyoga Rachel Ryan… can continue sweeping #402 Bronze onto my décolleté and shoulders, knowing that the beauty is in the madness, and I have arrived.

While I trust that Math shall one day explain it all, for the moment I refuse to hold true to the rational whatchamacallit, in which each face is a canvas rather than a landscape. This especially when we have failed to acknowledge that Genghis Khan is the largest population DNA marker- perhaps making, just about, everyone a little bit Asian by Y chromosome, extension, or skin care.
Therefore making skin yummy is logical in a world of savory, pantone, geometric, satins.