Satire | Comic | Beauty | Make up | Self Esteem
Is a Woman Prettier for Makeup?
Or is it a confidence booster?
The howling wind in its wake left the leaves blown from trees lying on the soggy ground like a carpet of dying confetti. It’s just another miserable autumn day.
Janet is twenty-eight years old and has the body of a fashion model, attracting the attention of two male joggers running through Hyde Park.
Unfortunately, Janet’s face does not compliment her figure. It is like watching a Rolls Royce pass by with Queen Camilla driving.
Janet is not simply a plain girl; she’s downright ugly.
But look, keep reading, and I’ll see what I can do about changing Janet’s appearance. You see, she doesn’t help herself; she has long, red, lank hair, her eyes are too close together, and her eyebrows look as if they are trying to merge. Her teeth protrude, and she cannot walk to the end of her street that some schoolboy doesn’t call out, “What’s up doc?”
To complete her mask, she has acne. “Don’t worry, it’ll clear up when you’re out of your teens,” Mum said. Well, it had not.
Janet, understandably, has never been involved in a long relationship. She’s had boys feel up her plentiful breasts and make a grab for her intimate region, but none willing to kiss her. Her face is her Alcatraz, from which there is no escape.
Lucy Parker advised Janet to “Get cosmetic surgery. “ If Janet could afford it, the thought of the surgeons staring down on her never filled her with delight. Janet is paranoid. Walking in town has become a terrifying ordeal.
“If Queen Camilla can go out without wearing sunglasses, so can you,” said one exceptional friend, Nina. Janet has resorted to wearing sunglasses regardless of advice or the weather. They give her the feeling of added security. Her view of the cruel world is seen from behind her dark lenses.
It had only sometimes been like this. In her early teens, her breasts just blossomed, and as a school gymnast, she kept a lythe cute figure. She even had the confidence to arrange blind dates, which ended disastrously. Timothy had approached her from behind as she was seated at a bar and thought he had gone to heaven. That is until Janet turned to face him. Tim bought the drinks, excused himself to visit the gents, and the last that was seen of him, he was still sprinting down Brighton Road.
Brian had not been so discrete; he just said, “What the hell? No thank you,” and departed, leaving Janet in tears.
Janet jogs the same route every morning but wants time to herself this morning. Her mouth is dry with nervousness. She had been preparing to meet with famous people all week when her instinct told her to turn and run, but her mother and best friend, Nina, barred her way.
Janet looks down the line of other girls looking and probably feeling just as terrified as her eyes take in each girl. Her childhood trip to Madame Tussauds is reflected in her mind, notably in the Chamber of Horrors.
Janet feels slightly better after examining each frightened girl, but only slightly.
Janet had gone to great expense, buying a new powder emerald green dress and expensive shoes. She knows she has to go through with it but feels uncomfortable, devoid of make-up. The producer had insisted on it. He wants the audience to see the girls in their full glory. Horror would have been a more appropriate word.
The girls are introduced and walk beneath the bright, hot lights into the studio to loud applause. Janet cannot see the faces in the audience, the glare of the lights blurring her vision, but she can imagine the whispered banter, the pointing, and the snide remarks directed at the unfortunate girls.
She walks carefully, having visions of tripping and displaying her Marks and Spencer’s lingerie to the public. She sits in the group’s centre as Richard, the host, chats with each girl.
Janet is next, and her mouth is so dry that she dreads her words will not come out. The water is tempting, but her hand shakes violently, so she is sure to drop the glass. The camera focuses on Janet, her stomach rumbling as she fights to prevent breaking wind.
Richard smiles. “This is Janet Finnegan, a twenty-eight-year-old charity worker from Cleveland…. Tell me, Janet, what charity work do you do?”
Janet opens her mouth, and nothing comes out. She swallows and tries to moisten her arid mouth. She can see the stage manager frantically waving his hands behind the camera.
“Ch… ch… children’s charity’s mostly.”
“Excellent, and are you looking forward to your make-over?”
“Y…y…yes,” she stutters.
“You’re a pretty girl, Janet,” lies Richard, “but you’ll be beautiful with the makeover.”
The cameras move on, and Janet’s heartbeat beats double. She can feel the sweat running down her face. She looks into the faceless crowd, sure they are laughing at her. She will have the last laugh; you wait and see.
Janet does not recognise the girl staring back from the mirror. She is beautiful! Her hair has been conditioned and tied in a bun. Her eyebrows are shaved and refined using ink tattoos, and now, with the right makeup, her acne is invisible. A subtle red lipstick has been expertly applied, taking the attention off her teeth, which do not look so bad. Green mascara is added to enhance her eyes and compliment her emerald green dress.
Janet decides she will never rewash her face. The transformation is astounding. The butterfly has finally escaped the cocoon, and the caterpillar is no more.
Janet no longer feels nervous when applause and catcalls come from the audience. She fights back tears, not wanting to smudge the mascara.
Finally, Janet turns to face her mother and Nina, both crying. Janet faces the audience. They are not laughing now, are they?
Janet sits at the dressing table at the show’s end, staring at the stranger. Beneath, she is the same person, but the change is dramatic. Even Nina finds it hard to believe this is the same person she set out to London with early this morning.
“Come on, Janet; let’s go downstairs for a drink in the hotel bar.”
“I don’t know, Nina.”
“Rubbish girl,” interrupts her mother, “You two go and enjoy yourself.”
The bar is dimly lit. It is still early evening and devoid of custom, apart from a man sitting alone, drinking his brandy. He is dressed in a tuxedo and watches with interest as the two girls glide across the bar room. Janet glances at the blonde man, who is unmistakably looking at her with a huge grin.
“Two vodka and oranges, please,” orders Nina.
Janet gives another glimpse, and the blonde man winks at her. She feels a pleasant sensation in her stomach when she sips her vodka.
“That bloke over there, he fancies you, Jan.”
“Nonsense, he’s mocking me.”
“I don’t think so sweetie. He’s coming over.”
The man pulls up a stool and ignores Nina, paying attention to Janet.
“Good evening. I hope you don’t mind if I join you. You look lonely sitting by yourselves. Are you from around here?”
“No we’re from the North,” butts in Nina.
He keeps his eyes only on Janet. “I was wondering. Are you a model?”
Janet blushes and bows her head. “No, I’m a…”
“She’s an actress,” interrupts Nina. The man is ignoring Nina, which is unusual. Typically, Nina gets fixed up, and Janet is rejected; this time, she does not mind.
“An actress, really?” asks the guy. “Will I have seen you in anything?”
“No, she only has minor roles for now, but she’s been inundated with offers.”
Janet’s eyes meet his, and they are drawn together like magnets.
“I’m Russ.”
“Janet.” They shake hands.
Nina need not be there as Janet and Russ talk late into the night. Nina makes her excuse and leaves them, giving Janet a wink and thumbs up.
Shortly after midnight, they are the only ones left in the bar, and Russ observes the barman checking his watch and points it out to Janet.
“I think he wants to go to bed, Janet.”
“Really?” she slurs, staring into her partner’s eyes.
“Perhaps you do too?”
“I’d love to, Russ.”
The alcohol has taken over. Janet is not drunk, but she would never propose such a thing usually, not the old Janet. Not that she ever got a chance. She is love-struck by this guy. He fancies me, he fancies me, she keeps saying in her mind.
Russ takes her hand and leads her to his room above the bar. As soon as they enter, they come together, their lips meeting. Janet is trying to conceal her buck teeth.
She is undressed slowly, and Russ takes in the beauty of her near-perfect body, sucking on her erect nipples, and together they fall onto the bed. Janet moans as she feels herself building up towards an orgasm.
Janet was a virgin and had often wondered if she would die that way, never having savoured a man’s body.
Tonight, she admires the muscles of Russ’s torso, not daring to look below his waist at the welcome offering she is aching to receive. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the shower. She feels his penis rigid against her stomach. She spreads her legs, waiting for the pleasure to infiltrate her body as the warm water gushes over them.
Russ removes his lips from her breasts and brings his face up to kiss her.
More from Harry:
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