Get this right...
There's this amazing piece of make-up equipment, called Yves Saint Laurent Touche Éclat, which I have always wanted but never knew its exact purpose or its instructions of use. So, after the early dismiss of our weakly team meeting, I decided to venture into Selfridges to clear my doubt with one of those really pretty ladies who sell cosmetics. Andrea smiled at me behind the desk and, not judging my hideous-velvet-dress-cum-trousers outfit, called me madam three times in a sentence. I sighed, gathered all my courage and asked her:
You know this Touche Éclat, -I said holding it in my hand in case I did not pronounce it with sufficient refinement- what does it do and how do you use it?
She looked at me in a condescending manner, taking me by the hand to sit me in a kinder version of a dentist chair and talk about luminescence (Éclat... I should have known). With a cotton pad, she removed the rests of this morning's make-up on my face, already stale at 11am and directly applied colour moisturiser. She kept giving me the most thorough make over ever, while enunciating all the product's names in perfect French (Lisse Expert, Single Nu Sept, Baume Éclat) and by the time she took the anti-wrinkle eye cream I started worrying about how much all that was going to cost me.
Andrea's good aesthetic deed for the day was not over though. She did not let go because she really liked my face (she said that to everyone, I bet) and she decided to have a heart to heart chat. I like her and I have obviously been wearing the wrong kind of make up. I am very lip-eccentric and try to cover my mouth with the darkest, goth-est colours you can possibly imagine, while leaving my eyes as they are. It's the other way round I am told. I have big lips, so I don't need to make them more obvious. A Rouge Pur Transparent Brun Vertige should be sufficient.
But my eyes (oh! these eyes -says Andrea) are of THAT particular kind and they reflect whatever colour they have around (apart from fluorescent pink and the likes). So, with a bit of l'Eyeliner Noir, Vert d'Hiver eye shadow, Kohl Pencil, Double Volume Mascara and, of course, the impressive Touche Éclat she made me look like a gorgeous superstar. No kidding. The change was so wonderful, (and I wish you could see it so much) I ended up buying half of the things she put on me to the tune of a lot of pounds for such tiny little golden boxes. Andrea said she wanted to see me next week at the same time. I gave her my number and everything, which of course I regretted deeply as soon as I went through the door. I am even going to return half of the stuff and get my money back. Can anyone tell me how can I be so vain and gullible?