When I think about fashion and elegance, I imagine a woman from the 1950s, on an airplane, with seamed stockings and a garment belt underneath, a skirt, high heels, and her hair that she's done the night before, perfectly done eyeliner, lipstick, gloves, perhaps, and all this just to sit on an airplane for a transcontinental flight.
I'm not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly; I'm not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside your sense of humor (please God you have one). This isn't a popularity contest, it's not the moral Olympics, and it's not church. But it's Writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and do something else. Wash the car, maybe.
Every trend in my high school was terrible! I used to wear my hair in a tight bun and let two long pieces hang in the front. I'd also wear really dark eyeliner and bright pink eyeshadow. For some reason, my friends and I thought it was really fashionable to wear a short tie with our uniforms.
India de Beaufort
I'll be quite frank with you "" I didn't know about Hunger Games "" so when I'm telling kids and they say, 'Who are you playing?' and I say Cinna, they go, 'Oh you're playing the gay guy.' That was an actual answer. I've never brought that up yet. That's how they perceived it. So I thought about it, and I read the book and I don't see that he is or isn't [gay]. He's a designer, he's a stylist, he has gold eyeliner""that doesn't mean anything either way.
It was the first time I discovered that some girls actually sneak out of the house during slumber parties and meet up with boys. I would've never known if I hadn't gone to the bathroom at midnight and caught Macy and Adrienne climbing through the bathroom window. They had on eyeliner, perfume, and cut-off shorts. Their only goodbye a glare that promised retribution if I didn't keep my mouth shut.
Laura Anderson Kurk
Prince was outside his dressing room, shaking one of those little Easter egg maracas. His hair was straightened to a soft wave; his eyelashes were unfairly lovely. He smelled like the most expensive shelf in the Sephora perfume aisle. This man wearing eyeliner, heels and ladies' perfume somehow managed to be more masculine than the burly bodyguard.
Failed relationships can be described as so much wasted makeup.Forget the laughs, forget the fights, forget the sex, forget the jealousy. But take off your hat and observe a moment's silence for the legions of unknown tubes of foundation, mascara, eyeliner, blusher and lipstick who died that it might all have been possible. But who died in vain.
I love liquid eyeliner - it's just easier. It doesn't melt, fade, skip, or smudge. It's tougher to use because it's not as forgiving. The brush for my em michelle phan Scribble Calligraphy Liquid Liner was inspired by a calligraphy brush, so you can get a very thick or thin line, depending on how you flick it. I use it in Tattoo Black.
She's got a man's nightshirt on and stockings with holes in them. Somebody else's tie, a gold and green chevroned number, hangs around her neck and just at this moment it looks like a king's mantle draped over her shoulders. Her hair's all loose, her lipstick and eyeliner gone a-roving. She's got a cigar in one hand and a jar full of gin in the other, and she's laughing, laughing like for once that damned chicken crossed the road for something really good.
Catherynne M. Valente
Clara smoked in the shallow pool as Lana del Rey poured from her phone. She shaded her eyes. She liked the shallow pool because she could lay out, half in the sun, half in the water, and not get her hair wet. She had black eyeliner smeared under her eyes from who-knows-when, and while she never bothered to fix it, she did apply more, so she looked permanently hung over. She liked that.
For blue eyes, use warm browns, peaches, and yellows to compliment the eyes. Brown and hazel eyes sparkle in blue and purple shades, which flatters the orange undertone of brown eyes. Green eyes stand out in burgundy and plum shades like CoverGirl Queen Collection Vivid Impact Eyeliner in Cabernet.
Thank god for Vegas. Seriously. A lobotomy wasn't as effective as a weekend three hours of Red Bull away (from LA, not Pismo) where I wore the thinnest pinned stilettos, gambled like a sweaty degenerate mobster in black loafers, drank like Amy Winehouse and Charles Bukowski's baby, and snorted throat-dripping lines of coke in a Hard Rock Hotel bathroom with four new best friends. I'd giddily rub off any one of those from the to-do list I wrote in eyeliner on my hotel bathroom mirror.
The film libraries on some of these channels." Elmina said. "I swear. There was one on last night. I couldn't sleep. After I saw, it, I was afraid ro sleep. Have you seen Black Narcissus, 1947?" Eddie, who was enrolled in the graduate film program at SC, let out a scream of recognition. He's been working on his doctoral dissertation, "Deadpasn to Demoniac - Subtextual Uses of Eyeliner in the Cinema, " and had just in fact arrived at moment in Black Narcissus where Kathleen Byron, as a demented nun, shows up in civilian gear, including eye makeup good for a year's worth of nighmares.
I'd like to sit there, ' I said softly to the girl sitting in front of the other mirror. She scampered. I took over her abandoned make-up and painted my face. Red cheeks, to attract hungry vampyre glances. Black liquid eyeliner and mascara, to draw attention away from my bitter eyes. My silky-thin, raven hair, undone in waves over my bare shoulders. The magenta shade of apple gloss on my lips, to make them plump and inviting. Finally, a strapless golden dress that hugged my hips and not much lower. I stood up, feeling the cold air slide down the bare skin of my back like fingers, and panicked. I couldn't wear something like this! Not without a cardigan! A light dress jacket, at least! I took a gulp of Amrit's wine and detached myself from the fretting child in my head. Then I strode from the sleeping chambers.
Her next words took me by surprise. I lay as still as I could, barely breathing, afraid that if I moved she would stop speaking her heart. 'My mom wanted six children. She only got me, and that sucks for her because I was a total weirdo.' 'You were not, ' I said. She twisted her head up to look at me. 'I used to line my lips in black eyeliner and sit cross-legged on the kitchen table ... meditating.' 'Not that bad, ' I said. 'Crying out for attention.' 'Okay, when I was twelve I started writing letters to my birth mother because I wanted to be adopted.' I shook my head. 'Your childhood sucked, you wanted a new reality.' She snorted air through her nose. 'I thought a mermaid lived in my shower drain, and I used to call her Sarah and talk to her.' 'Active imagination, ' I countered. She was becoming more insistent, her little body wriggling in my grip. 'I used to make paper out of dryer lint.' 'Nerdy.' 'I wanted to be one with nature, so I started boiling grass and drinking it with a little bit of dirt for sugar.' I paused. 'Okay, that's weird.' 'Thank you!' she said. Then, she got serious again. 'My mom just loved me through all of it.
I have never battled a gargoyle before.' Zacharel shook his head, a dark lock of hair tumbling into one emerald eye. Damp from the melting snow, the hair stuck to his skin. He didn't seem to notice. 'But I am certain these will murder Paris before willingly carrying him inside.' As if he were the only intelligent life form left in existence, William splayed his arms. 'And the problem with that? He'll still be inside, exactly where he wants to be. And by the way, ' he added, blinking at Paris with lashes so long they should have belonged to a girl. 'Your new permanent eyeliner is very pretty. You'll make a good-looking corpse.' Do not react. He did, and the teasing about his ash/ambrosia tattoos would never end. 'Thanks.' 'I prefer the lip liner, though. A nice little feminine touch that really makes your eyes pop.' 'Again, thanks, ' he gritted. He wants us! Stupid demon. William grinned. 'Maybe we can make out later. I know you want me.' Tell him yes! Not another word out of you, or- 'Paris? Warrior?' Zacharel said. 'Are you listening to me?' 'No.' Zach nodded, apparently not the least offended. 'I enjoy your honesty, though I believe you suffer from what the humans call ADD.' 'Oh, yeah. I definitely have attention deficient demon.