TITLE: Story about a M.A.C. trainer
DATE: 7:44:00 PM
"Daniel will be talking to you guys today -- you'll love him. He's, like, totally down to earth 'n stuff," said the friendly MAC cosmetician with incredible auburn dreads and magnificent turquoise eyeshadow to our small and humble group of every-citizens, as we wove through other cosmetic counters on a busy Saturday Shopping afternoon, deep in the heart of the San Francisco Shopping Mecca.
The plain-Jane blond mom with her tweener, the sweet naked-faced chica, tittering pair of excited Mac fanatic gal-pals and I were lead into the elevators, to the fifth floor, past the Norstrom Spa, and into a cheerless conference room where plastic bags with corporate paraphernalia greeted guests on every seat, and a tray of strange looking expensive chocolates tossed with blueberries and raspberries sat regally on black plastic trays at the back of the room under a spotlight.
I sat in the front row and made small talk with a trendy young girl I'd seen earlier receiving a makeover before we were led to the seminar. She wore a trendy cap, had her hair cut in angled blunt layers around her face, and slouched in her chair, pencil poised over a piece of paper from the paraphernalia bag marked "notes." Her cute face was painted with dark eyes and colorful shadows. She couldn't have been older than 15.
Daniel the trainer, sharply dressed all in black, arrived at the front of the room and placed himself in the director's chair at the front of the room under a spotlight marked M.A.C. He smiled gracefully and introduced himself. He spoke with wit of a City man in this 30's, and in sharp metro-tones.
"... I do everything from making up celebrities, to attaching lashes on models in their hotel rooms, to friends for a wedding, and relatives... but my favorite thing is to be here with you guys, the people who want to know how to wear makeup everyday."
Then he asked us what we wanted to learn today. "I'd like to know how to wear makeup under glasses," I said, to which he nodded and replied, "good question."
Other guests appeared slowly and placed themselves carefully spaced in the empty rows (all women). When he decided to begin, he led the class through the a colorful tour of the paraphernalia, then suddenly turned to me. "What's your name?"
I snapped to attention. He must want to attribute my question about what I wanted to learn today. "Linda," I said.
"Linda, would you be my model today? I'll call you up in just a bit."
I spent the next hour in the director's chair with 50 eyes on me, under his artistic lesson of applying makeup, chiding us on common shortcuts and leaving the house without proper attention to our brows. We where to find my crease, what shadow colors go with any skin tone, and how to go from basic to bombshell in the matter of just a few buffs and blends, tabs and swipes.
Cool, at least I don't have to do my makeup tonight. I was politely dismissed after he finished with the lesson on me, and needed a new subject for red lips. A salty brunette named Dee who needed something that wouldn't scare her husband quickly accepted the invitation. When I returned to my seat the tittering gal-pals tapped my shoulder in order to see my face close up. "Oh, it's so pretty!" one of them gushed.
Afterward I went up to Daniel to say thanks. "I should take you out for a drink or something" I half-joked. He said, "oh thank you so much for being my model" with a smile. I left him to the clutching questions of half a dozen eager young attendees and returned to earth.