Monday, February 22, 2010

Wishful Make-upping

My 13-year-old niece was over after school, hanging out and helping me with my kids. (I am spoiled when it comes to help, I know.) I have known her since she was 2. She is now taller than me and absolutely stunning. When I'm not completely jealous of her genes, I see a burgeoning young woman and I am so proud and honoured to be able to help shape who she is.

I am kind of known as the auntie who is frilly, girly and sometimes honest to the point of being inappropriate. But I love that, because as V grows up and enters the jungle of high school and dating and partying, I feel like I'll be able to help. Like all my shallow pursuits will come in very handy at this one, life-shaping juncture.

So for Christmas, I bought her a make-up case and filled it with make-up. I kept it pretty simple: Rimmel, Lip Smackers, the kinds of products young girls should learn with. (I'm not moving her up to Sephora just yet.)

We were having such a great time that night that I asked her to sleep over. When her mom dropped off her jammies and toothbrush, she also brought the makeup case. "Maybe Nadine could show you how to apply eyeshadow," she suggested. It was as though Gretz passed me the torch to light the aluminum penises at the Opening Ceremonies.

We snuck down to the basement after the kiddos were asleep. After going through the DVD collection to see if she was ready for some of my faves (Breakfast at Tiffany's, The Apartment, Groundhog Day...) we settled on Pretty in Pink.

We watched scenes of high school drama and the socio-economic gap play out to that unbelievable John Hughes soundtrack of New Order, OMD, Nik Kershaw -- songs that shaped my tweens. We laughed at the outfits and how ordinary Andrew McCarthy really was, but how in love with him I was back in the day. We discussed how Molly Ringwald was pretty in a simple way that made her feel like she could be you. We agreed that Duckie makes the whole movie.

At my suggestion, V busted out the three-tier Rimmel eyeshadow, holding it awkwardly. And then, totally deadpan, she uttered, "So much for Women's Lib."

I'm still laughing days later.

1 comment:

kittenpie said...

You'd be an awesome Cool Auntie - one who would totally give the real scoop on sex and boys and lend a girl the perfect accessories for her prom dress.