Results tagged “Barney's” from The Bias Cut

So I learned something very interesting recently. And I am happy to share it with you. Are you ready? Because I know this small piece of information is going to change your life...

The people who work in the makeup department at Barney's work for the store, not the brands.

You're disappointed with me? That didn't just totally rock your world? Hmmm. Well then, let me go on. Perhaps you will find elucidation in the explanation.

I have not worn makeup of any sort during the day for many years now- probably since 2000. Recently, there was a large occasion when makeup was called for, (fine, my own wedding,) and so I set out with a valued friend, Katie, who is wise in such things, to obtain some. She directed me to Barney's, where she knew that there was an Armani counter.

I have had department store makeovers in the past, most recently at the Benefit counter at Bloomingdales in SoHo. I left looking like a drag queen version of Tovah Feldshuh, with an inch of foundation, too much mascara, heavy blush, and thick shiny eye makeup. I bought a bunch of stuff, spending a minor fortune, almost none of which I ever touched again. So I was not completely looking forward to the repeat experience. Katie took me strongly by the arm, and steered me to the Armani kiosk.

"She needs makeup. For her wedding. She never wears it, so it should be light, and she has a tendency to shine." Katie informed the man at the counter. I looked at Katie with my jaw on the floor- I never thought I had a tendency to shine before. The little counter man, who I could see was wearing some white eyeliner, appraised me with a cool eye, and nodded.

"I see what you mean," he told Katie. I was tempted to leave, but instead climbed up into the chair. There were mirrors everywhere, and I was forced to contemplate every tiny blemish and wayward hair on my skin, as the man set to work. Soon, I had three different kinds of foundation streaked over my face. The first Armani one was too heavy. The second was too powdery.

"Close you eyes, I have the perfect thing," He said. With a steady hand and fat brush, the man wiped something over my entire face. It felt wonderful-cool and creamy. I opened my eyes, and my blemishes, which had screamed and erupted under the other stuff, seemed to have completely smoothed out, as if by magic. My skin was as flawless as it is in my imagination.

"What is this?" Katie cried, grabbing the small glass jar of potion. "You're getting it. That's final." She fixed an arched eyebrow on me, but I didn't need convincing. It was Chantecaille Future Foundation, in case you are curious about the magic and all that.

I left the store that day with the foundation, a concealer, a powder, and a lipstick, none of which were by the same company, all of which I use all the time. Instead of having that feeling of getting ripped off that often accompanies a department store makeover, I felt like I might actually LIKE wearing makeup again. And I felt like I got to try everything. Take that, Bloomingdales.