The journey to womenhood

I discovered Makeup, capital EM, a year ago.

After a huge and loud breakup my brain kicked in I'm-da-shit-fuck-you-world mode and just focused on me, me and me. There wasn't anybody I loved more than, wait for it, ME. You guessed right!

This implied concentrating on school and work to be the best I possibly could and implementing a kick-ass wardrobe that could stroll hand in hand with my kick-ass upbeat streak. Said, done.

The next natural step was to get my face to reflect my inner freedom.

I had stopped wearing makeup when I got in the abovementioned dreadful, sometimes thankfully over, relationship because, like, I didn't need it anymore, I'd already scored. And also he who shan’t be named had asked me to because he thought I was cuter without. Aw, adorable, that's why I loved him, gigantic piece of shit fucker.

Aaaanyway, in my original makeup filled flirting days all I would go for was a lil eyeliner and some one-color messy shadow applied all over with fingers. Like a 5 year old drawing. No lips, well except for the late 90s when brick brown lipstick was all the rage.

My skin is pretty much flawless for these smoggy days we live in but all of a sudden I felt the need to ask for advice in looking for a foundation to enhance my newfound glow.

That’s how it started. I set foot in a beauty supply store and some sleepy gene bursts out of my brain making me a slave of all things attractiveness inducing products.

I then discovered MAC, which I’ve since been stocking on, and that is why I’m depotting stuff today. I need to save space for my luggage.

In a full year I went from zero to brainwashed motherfucker, sucking up on YouTube gurus and tutorials. Sometimes I feel like a sellout, but also, I don’t give a fuck. I love to apply makeup because it’s all kinds of artistic, and, mostly, I’m attracted to myself when I pass by a mirror, it must mean it only does me good. I came full circle this week preparing to leave for L.A. when I bought my first pro palettes and decided I had to get them filled to finally trespass into my makeup adulthood.

And I’ve just found out that mineralize blushes don’t have a pan so they can’t be depotted. Note to self.

Cream blushes on the other hand are way better depotting without any heat, like Enkore Makeup does, because well, they melt, and you can only then paint the town with them.

Also keep in mind to OPEN THE WINDOW before attempting such a poisonous plastic melting. It smelled like a rotting corpse was getting after me in here, and my head hurts now.

My lovely single eyeshadows, I'm going to miss them!

What you do is basically you get the top part out of the plastic container with butcher knives then place it on a heat source (straightening iron in my case) so you can torture the material and finally push the pan out. Now magnetize it and you're ready to go.

I also heated the whole container to remove the adhesive tag beneath it and place it on the freed pan before sticking the magnets to it, so the names are still on the back of it without having to write them anywhere.

My first pro palette. Defining moment.

The four blushes + one mineralize blush + one cream blush mayhem.

Same process, except missing a pan at the end of it drives me insane. I had to rebuild the mineralize blush packaging while it was flaming hot and melting and here it is standing beside the new home he refused to move into. Little rebel.

These are the 18 empties I'm going to return to MAC for their recycling program. And I'll get three free lipsticks for it! Best deal I've ever heard.

Having said this, speaking of makeup, here’s evidence of how it helped me a couple of weeks ago when I got sunburnt from stupidly facing the snowy mountains without any fucking sunscreen.

Counting down with Roger Waters

I am coming in 30 days...

The movie with the self-reviewing title

This is the kind of shit I live for.

I’d downloaded the movie more than a year ago and never bothered watching it. So now it comes out in Italy (like yes a whole 12 months later) and the hype is so loud I can’t ignore it. Thus last night I loaded my macbook on my lap, got comfy on the bed and hit play. FUCK IT!

This is the movie my subconscious has always dreamed of making. I hate every single person that’s worked on it. And by hate I mean that I want to do them.

It’s genius because it visually lets out an ironic, unserious outlook on life. Because it finally takes on the superhero genre with a geek attitude. Come on let’s face it, most of the Marvel blockbusters are made to satisfy the masses. But even the ball of dust under my desk at work knows that a true nerd would rather a spurt of ketchup gush out from a severed neck than a polished, choreographed jump from a 200 storey skyscraper while the strings of bravery play in the background. This is a small, independent looking movie that manages to fulfill that need to get back to the often forgotten raw roots, translating comic books unruly feel on film without being ashamed, because the story of a loser superhero lets it do just that. So refreshing!

Not to mention the mastery with which the puzzle is all put together, the single scenes, the details. I’m turned on just thinking about it. This is what happened in a parallel world where Tarantino did Marvel, and considering that Brad Pitt is producing, my head has fabricated a link that I will pretend really exists between the god of pulp and this gore filled fantasy world. Especially since the poster looks a little too much like a Kill Bill’s carbon copy to be casual, blood spills like fountains at a wedding, there’s a shot from a trunk, a semi-anime part, a rampaging vengeful child a la Oren Ishi and a katana gratuitous appearance at the very end.

Plus some parts are insane you guys.

When Hit Girl gets to Frank D’Amico’s house wearing the school uniform and Morricone western music (hello Quentin) soothes the mood, I pronounce it a class act!

Schoolgirl Mexican standoff orgasm!

Elvis rocking the jet pack scene is just unbelievable, I was rolling off the bed let me tell you.

Before the hallway confrontation when back to back close ups of the bad guys pave the way to Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation is from another planet, and who doesn’t want to see a little girl make a big man shoot himself in the head with his own gun via a lazo! I do.

Who does she remind you of?

I’m so obsessed it’s starting to worry me. You will soon catch me around town wearing something like this:

Whilst this is my new facebook profile pic:

Women's ass-kicking committee?! I need to run for President!

And I may go to ComiCon dressed as her next July, because she’s a fucking 11 year old who drives a sports car!

PS. This is a great blog post on the awesome music the film treats us with. A lot of its unconventional appeal is courtesy of choosing the appropriate, or rather the less appropriate in this case, music to season the images with and create the contrast that so royally kicks ass.

Limitless shame

Inexplicably after so many years of working with the more or less famous, self proclaimed or rather stellar celebrities, I still get all tingly inside when I’m in sight radius of one. That’s just my thing.

I may have written this before but with a dissertation on stardom and its impact on society and the economy that’s probably what you’d expect of me. Just that much predictable. My paper focused on the evolution of the star concept from the 60s through the 80s and nothing in college captured my attention more than the books I had to read to prepare for it. It may not be the most insightful subject on the planet but it gets me going like a Duracell bunny.

So much so in fact that in the 30 seconds spam after a sighting my hand instantly places itself on a camera. Whosever that may be.

Well today I met Will Tippin at the Limitless press conference in Rome, and fell pray of my own cliché. Lame I know, but here goes…

Oh who am I fooling?! I love it!!! I own it like breathing… Hugging celebrities, touching them and squeezing their special handles area is my very own high. Overtime I’ve built charts, following straight, binding, certified criteria, and I can assess pretty quickly these days after a lot of practice. I confer Bradley Cooper a round and earned B+. Toned but meaty. Tall, very tall. Great presence. Still not one of my favorites but I’m learning he's a top pick for a lot of other people. Considering the amount of comments I got on my facebook page when I posted the above pic earlier I did my mama proud today.

Let’s be honest young ladies, we women live for a little white envy from our peers every once in a while. That is also why my hand slips on the camera so quickly at the right moment and why I posted the picture on my profile in the first place. I plead guilty to the one sin.

The guy today was very easy and fun, he snapped his own pics with fans, signed a Pisa tower of papers and answered with honest humor.

This is the question I planned on asking for days and someone stole it from me, may you burn in hell. Oh well, it was whether or not he would consider going back on a TV show and which one. Of course I would have never imagined him mentioning LOST...

This one instead is a little insight on his experience with the only Robert De Niro, who costars with him in the movie and whom he once drooled on on Inside the Actor's Studio while in the audience. And you can treat yourselves to the play by play here, 11 minute mark.

I appreciate how he raised the ranks. He’s legit.

And here is my serious side taking advantage of me. Yeah it’s weird I have one. It’s a working mode. On jobs I’m never starstruck, it actually doesn’t even cross my mind even if you dangle a camera in front of my eyes. You see, there’s hope for everybody!

Virginity

I just started my Flickr account and to celebrate the light after a long troubled labour here is my first picture ever.

Virginity.

See it on Flickr

Things that made me go AW today

I'm sunburnt from a careless snowboarding trip with my mom. Why would one think you need sunscreen when you're staying inside a shiny reflecting white bowl perpendicular to the brightest star of the galaxy for eight hours? Exams never end.

I'm also tired out of my mind for getting back to work after said three day trip of doing nothing but riding down mountains and sizzling my epidermis.

So I get on with my substantial poignant readings knowing I'll find something that'll cheer me up. Of course.

#1

These Gwyneth shoes are to die. I died and went to hot pink patent heaven and lost my soul there. I know what I'll be hunting this Spring.

On a side note Holly Holiday is getting kind of old, is it just me? I liked her first time around as much as I didn't like this one, ain't that some sh?!

#2

Annie's got cellulite. Bless her I love Anne Hathaway, and so much more now that I know she seats on tender material like the rest of us mortals.

On a side note my boss sent me an email the other day just for the sake of telling me that she saw Love and other drugs and she thought "the actress in the movie" looked identical to me. I wish, but that HAS happened and no one can take it away.

             

Pictures from the source of all that is holy popsugar.com

I'm with that guy!

Ryan Gosling must be my lost soulmate. I've had many. Soulmates.

I’ve enjoyed a pretty regular adolescence with a vast sexual tension towards the famous. Much fulfilling, the intimacy was great.

I've always been the commercial type, you would say. I never had a grunge black eyeliner phase and I disliked Nirvana because they looked dirty. I was a Backstreet type. Cheerleading, charming blonde on the inside while being, well just me outside. An ugly fuzzy haired, unibrowed, short sighted, glasses and retainer wearing kind of nobody. I made up for my lack of social interaction with the shiny world of stars. They liked me very much and took me to a lot of award shows at the Kodak Theater in my living room.

Interestingly enough I shaped my tastes in movies in those years and I watered the roots of my fascination for pop culture, which is a big part of what I am and do these days. I graduated college cum laude with a dissertation on stardom and I have a very distinctive record of stalking activities. You gotta stay true to who you are.

Robert Peter Williams was my first conscious teenage love, although everything started with Michael J. Fox, who never really went away to be honest. Thing is at the time I wasn’t anywhere near the realm of romanticism, and he could not possibly be recognized as the crush he was by my juvenile brain. I was in love with Play Doh. I was 5.

After him it was a pitcherful of teen hearthrobs: Kirk Cameron, Mark-Paul Gosslear, Sean Astin and the lot. Full on muscle tee and 90s bleached hair. We were school it couple for quite a while.

The age gap was narrowing and it all felt much possible, plus I was starting to develop hormones, which meant uncontrollable waves of heat.

Nothing though had a bigger impact on my life than Take That.

I can distinctively remember the first rush of adrenaline in the back of my neck when Robbie pouted his perfect cheeky lips posing for the posters that hugged my room walls in their entirety.  I can remember the ups and down of this prefabricated pint sized love that meant the world to me. The ones I would later feel on a magnified scale for my first boyfriend. I was happy for no reason sometimes, and sad, trashed, desperate most of the others for not being returned the feeling. To this day no one can convince me that that was not love, like most of the naysayers did and still do all the time to ridicule the entity of teenage inner depth. That was indeed LOVE bitches. It was for someone I'd never met, so what?! Purity can do that.

I was a pro at this game by now and I must admit I was a repeated offender. I took the level down a notch but the purity was still there. I moved on to the Nick Carters and the Leonardo DiCaprios. Oh boy, how do I explain them? They had no game compared to the broody, scruffy, dark and chest haired British foul-mouthed manly man that is Robbie Williams, but Titanic was all the rage and I was a sheep. Sadly Taylor Hanson was in the flock too.

The more time passed the more my friends at school would get into relationships, escalating from base to base, but the ball was never thrown to me. At any rate I wasn't even looking for it, so cozy as I was in my fluffy celebrity world.

I would totally be into Justin Bieber if I were 13 these days, I'm not ashamed to leak this online.

I remember dating a lot in those years, from Keanu Reeves to Orlando Bloom. Orlando was particularly attached to me, we were together a long time and he was my date to the Oscars. I wish him all the best with his new family, no hard feelings.

My main man in high school though had to be Pacey Witter. I've always liked a little tummy.

After I met Joshua Jackson (as part of my stalking activities) and FINALLY started dating in the real world, my hysteria went a little down.

I stuck with Heath Ledger for a while and that grew with me to be more of admiration, or rather worship, than just plain lust.

I would love to go all grown up on you now and take this post to say that I've matured into this grounded woman, but that would be a plain sad lie. I still do have crushes. And Heath, like Michael and Robbie, are still among them.

Right now I'm just less involved with them cause I'm kinda busy looking for my mate in the real world, but let's just say it, shall we, it all actually really sucks, so I still cherish my few otherworldly soft spots.

The new millennium developed to Jack. We have to go back Jack, Jack. At the moment I would point to Finn. I may need to infiltrate the Glee set once in L.A. so can I move him off the celebrities column and end my sweaty search.

Well somewhere in there I got lost on the Gosling. I've had the hots and notebooked it out with my girls for a while, but he never accompanied me to any Hollywood function, nor I ever talked about him on my toilet Letterman. If he learns about this I'm sure he'd be crushed.

No hot boys were harmed during the making of this post.

Special thanks to:

Sean Penn

Patrick Dempsey

Patrick Shwayze

Ewan McGregor

Milo Ventimiglia

Tom Cruise

Christian Bale

Bruce Willis

Tobey Maguire

Joseph Fiennes

Hugh Grant

Michael Vartan

Matthew Perry