Saturday, November 17, 2012

Magic of Makeup

Fashion and makeup go hand and hand. You  need to correlate your face to your clothes, your lips to your eye makeup, and so on a so fourth. Will a bold red lip go well with your outfit? How about neon blue eyeliner? And is there really such thing as too much glitter on the eyelids?! I think not.

Like fashion, makeup is one of my favorite drugs. Painting my face in the morning is therapeutic; tranquility at its finest. I think of myself as a blank canvas and everyday I'm able to transform into a piece of art. Call me superficial if you like, but nothing could be more real than the process of glamorous transformation. With makeup and fashion, I am a projection of who I am on the inside. The authenticity of my being comes fourth, and through the tools of glamour, I exist in the realm I was made for. I am liberated by the different versions of myself I'm able to create and my evolution in life can be seen through the artistry of my ever-changing appearance.

It makes me angry when people say girls who wear makeup are "fake". It's one of the most beautiful forms of expression and if playing around with makeup makes me fake, so be it. I don't want to be real anyway. I'd rather be imaginary and live in a world of magic where it rains glittery eyeshadows. I want to create my life rather than letting every aspect of it simply happen, and the world of glamour gives me the power and motivation to focus my enigmatic creativity.

From minimal makeup to full on drag queen faces, embrace the art of makeup. Sometimes at the end of the day I sit alone in my room and paint my face to the extreme. I layer on heavy eyeliner, grab some lipstick, darken my eyebrows, and then wash it all off. It's when I feel most glamorous, most beautiful, and most in tune with the universe.

If makeup's not your thing, find what makes your creative juices flow and let it devour you.

Minimal makeup. Before

After.  Gina 2.0
Find your freedom in art, and have a lovely weekend.



Friday, November 9, 2012

Sick Mermaid

The Little Mermaid. image via pinterest
All Hell broke loose in my body the day after the Giants victory parade (standing on Market Street for an extended period of time... I should’ve seen this coming), and now I’m finding it hard to remember what not being sick is like. 

I coughed exactly 7,000 times yesterday. I didn’t even know it was possible, but the intensity of each cough requires the use of my stomach muscles, and now I am sore all over.

On the bright side, I’m finally able to talk again. After all the coughing, my voice was gone. Literally gone. I started to think about my future and what it would be like if I could never talk again. I found comfort in the idea that I’d never be able to say something stupid and wouldn't have to participate in lifeless small talk. But I’d greatly miss meaningful conversations. Talking to people and knowing there’s depth in their words rather than just words to fill the air. I’d miss that a lot.

As my voiceless life flashed before my eyes, I thought about The Little Mermaid and how I was one step closer to emulating her lifestyle on land. Ariel is only able to win Prince Eric's love through body language, as Ursula agreed to turn her into a human in exchange for her beautiful voice. My voiceless self could relate to Ariel's frustrating time as a mute human, and before my voice came back, I was starting to think I needed to make friends with a reggae singing crab and find a prince or else my poor unfortunate soul would belong to an evil Sea Witch. 

Perhaps in the future I’ll make a post in which I tell you about my deep rooted love for mermaids. But until then, just know that I am more mermaid than I am human. 

Now, time to down some more cough medicine. I have a wild night ahead of me equipped with shots of NyQuil, cough drops, and a humidifier that doesn't seem to be helping very much. 


P.S. How cool is this room!? If it were mine, I would never leave.

Mermaid Room
Mermaid Room. image via pinterest

And this phone! I need it. Forever 5 years old

Mermaid phone. image via tumblr

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Single Serving Friends & San Francisco Giants

I started interning in San Francisco in June. My ultimate goal has always been to work and eventually move into the city, so I was pretty excited for my first role out of college to be in downtown SF.

The first day of my internship, I was overwhelmed by the city.  It’s such a different environment than what I’m used to, but I managed to get through the day. I got to my bus stop an hour early because I was too afraid to venture off by myself in an area I was unfamiliar with. I sat down, took a deep exhausting breath, and questioned whether or not San Francisco was really the place for me.

As I sat there all alone, a gorgeous, sassy Latina woman came up to me and asked if I knew what time the 56 bus came. I had a pamphlet in my purse, so I pulled it out and showed her the times.
The woman sat down next to me and asked how I was and what I was doing there. I told her about how it was my first day as an intern. She listened, and it felt good to talk to this stranger in a city of people I didn’t know.

We talked for the next 20 minutes, and I asked where she was going.  She told me that she was a makeup artist for porn stars and was going on location.

“It was like any other job, only that everyone’s naked.”  She said in that alluring accent.

As up front as that sounds, nothing she said was in a vulgar manner. She was an interesting person, and I enjoyed listening to her story. She told me about her journey as a makeup artist and how she got to where she is now. Prior to meeting this woman, I was overwhelmed by absolutely everything around me. But when I finished talking to her, I somehow felt much more comfortable in taking on this new phase of my life.

Like in Fight Club where he talks about “single serving friends”, this lady was my first single serving friend in San Francisco. We knew all the basic elements of each other’s live, but it was time to go our separate ways, there was that silent mutual understanding that we would never see each other again.

As my internship progressed, so did my love for the city. I wasn’t afraid to wander off anymore and wasn’t as up tight and paranoid about talking to people I didn’t know. I realized how interesting people are if we just talk to them, so I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and stopped ignoring the “single serving” strangers.

I was experiencing San Francisco on a daily basis, and found myself paying more attention to the city's pride and joy; The San Francisco Giants. I've always only liked the Giants, but have never considered myself a fan. The Yankees have always been my team, and I think of the Giants as belonging to my SF born and raised mother. The emotion she has for them runs deep, and her love for them is more authentic than the love anyone has for a sports team, and that is fact. 

When the Giants made it to the post season, I was beyond excited. San Francisco had been so good to me I knew I had to be there for them. The chemistry and passion amongst the players emulated my feelings towards their city, which made the team bigger than just baseball at that point.

When the Giants won in 2010, I wanted them to win because I knew how happy it would make my mom. This time was different. This time I wanted to experience the feeling of victory for myself. Sure enough, they won it all, and I called my mom right after it happened. This time we were both on the same level of happiness rather than me congratulating her on “her team’s” victory, like I had done the last time they won.

Parade outfit. Last time I wore that skirt was to the
Monster Ball,  just so ya know
I went to the Giants victory parade a few days later-- on Halloween with my brother and some of my cousins. We found a place to stand on Market Street while my cousin’s friend went into one of the stores to buy heavy duty tupperware for us to stand on so we could see the street a bit better. There was still about an hour until the parade began, and the  energy and passion from the fans was already was electrifying. 

When the parade finally started, that electrifying energy was 100 times more intense than it had been an hour earlier. It was difficult to see some of the players, but being surrounded by people of like and kind was the real highlight of it all. The man in front of me was with his teenage son and must have talked to us the entire time. He told us about how his daughter lives on the East Coast and when the Giants are playing back there, she goes to the games in full San-Fran-Freak-Show attire and the East Coast-ers just don’t get it. The tall man next to us was kind enough to tell us who was on their way up the street, and when we didn't recognize a former player, he explained who they were.  And the guys behind us included us in their conversations as if we were all old friends. Someone even offered me their jacket when they noticed I didn't have one.  After talking to these people, I was even more convinced that San Francisco was home to the greatest people on the planet. 

As cheesy as it sounds, I got hit with a sudden wave of emotions when Journey’s “Lights” played over the speakers. I wanted to cry when everyone was singing along because I realized just how much I love San Francisco and the people in it. I thought about my first day alone in the city, and how alone I felt until a stranger took the time to ask how I was doing  and made me feel like I belonged. This time, I was surrounded by thousands of strangers who made me feel like I belonged. And when I look back on that day, they’ll be the ones I remember.  

I wouldn't have felt the same way if I were standing there two years ago, before my journey (oh the pun) in San Francisco began.  The city has shaped me into a better version of myself, and now I’m positive that San Francisco is where I need to be.

When the parade was over, the same silent mutual understanding that we would never see each other again was felt amongst those strangers. Some people come into our lives to leave quick impressions and then vanish forever. And that’s ok.

If you’re one of the select few who has been keeping up with my blog from the beginning, you know that I devote myself wholeheartedly towards fashion, glamour, and all aspects of the arts. But when it comes to baseball, my knowledge and love of the game is equivalent to the knowledge of any stereotypical sports fan wearing a jersey and drinking beer. The Giants represented so much more than baseball for me this year. They represent the city and people I've grown to love. And not just the Giants, but sports in general represent so much more.  The sense of togetherness sports can bring is unbelievable, and I hope everyone gets to experience that kind of togetherness at least once in their lifetime.

"Not even Tony Bennett is safe from a RomoBomb" (image via sfgiantsgirl119)