Wretch was home for the weekend. And we did what we usually do when she comes home. The girly thing. I colored her hair and she painted my toes.
She'd read the blog about the Jerseylicious smoky eye and my struggle to master the look. And my failure. So she offered to show me how to do a smoky eye. And being no fool, I jumped on the offer.
First she showed me how to do it by putting makeup on one of her eyes. Then she demonstrated on me. I laughed at her because she had makeup on only one eye, giving her the appearance of a Dalmatian.
She put some kind of base on my eyes from a tube. Rubbed that in. Added neutral eye shadow, then put eyeliner on me and blended it. She said I was doing much better than Jen because I didn't scrunch my eyes shut every time she got near them with the makeup. Proud of myself, I glanced at her, saw her coming at my eye with a pencil, and scrunched. Just a little. She added eyeshadow in the crease of my eyelid, then blended it down the lid to the lash line, and also added shadow under my eye to give that blended smoky look. She explained each step and I really felt like I was getting a makeover. I stood up and looked in the mirror when she finished.
Boy, talk about drama! I had smoky eyes that would rival anything those Jersey girls sported. I felt like a drama queen and was loving the look. I went into the living room and Steve walked through.
He stopped. Stared at me. His eyes widened and bulged just a bit (I still think he has a goiter). Then he snorked and started laughing, shook his head and walked off.
WHAT? I hollered after him...WHAT'S WRONG?
He came back, grinned, and called me by the name of someone we both knew.
We call her Raccoon Eyes.