Beauty Guru: My Makeup Choices in the 80s Were Criminal

My makeup and hair styles have evolved over the decades. In my 50s, I prefer a more minimal approach to makeup. I follow women that I consider to be more than mere Beauty Gurus. I think of them of my beauty angels. Contributors like Amanda, MJ and MelB. They inspire me to try new ideas and share their knowledge and easy follow instructions on how to achieve "my best" look. I feel as if I have known them forever. After viewing some old photos with a friend of my makeup choices, I wish I had.

While reminiscing over our glory days, my friend brought out her photo album. As she turned the pages, pointing to the photos of us, sharing her recollections, all I could think of was if I had known my beauty angels in the 80s, surely their influence would have eclipsed that of my favorite show, Miami Vice.

I also wondered if there were negatives because I knew if my daughters ever laid eyes on these pictures, I would be getting the stink eye in stereo. I recalled the time I had intervened in their early teens with their makeup and fashion choices, blocking their exit from the house and insisting they wash or change before they leave. I always told them they there was no way I was letting them leave the house looking like clowns. Yet facing up from those parchment pages was all the ammunition my children would need to give me "the look". For there we were, posed with huge grins and hair in front of my apartment door. Based on the number of photos in front of that door, it must have been a ritual for us to stop in front of the door to capture the moment. We should have kept on going.

I wanted to wail, "I remembered us looking much better. What happened?" Every strand of hair appeared to have been lacquered, twisted and burned into place. We had lined our eyes above and below the eyelashes, coated our eyelids in a blue-green glimmering eye shadow and applied foundation so thick that it looked like it would slide off if we took a corner too fast. Looking that these moments three decades after they were captured on film, I truly believe we must have arrived downtown in a clown car and after dark.

My friend has refused to let me burn the evidence but has agreed to leave them to me in her will. I have vowed to outlive her.