The Surprise Visitor

While I'm waiting for my white blood cells to grow a pair (metaphorically and literally also, in which case more than a pair would be even better thanks), I've noticed an increase in several homely occurrences.

1: Cat puking incidents.
Are they allergic to me? Is there in fact no change but I don't discover it if I'm not there to witness. In which case where is it? Not sure I want to think about that too much...

2: Teenage Angst.
This is because of all the extra vapid thinking time I suppose. But no decision goes unscathed. example: friends round last night. Thai delivery or Busaba take out? (Some of you may have experienced the thrilling debate on Twitter). The decision lay with me, it took no less than 8 tweets, 1 DM, and 9 text messages, before I decided that someone else had better make the decision.

3: Unexpected Visitors.
Ah, now, herein lies the problem. I'm not great with these at the best of times. Living in London arouses suspicion when the buzzer goes unexpectedly - Jehovah's Witnesses? Crazed murderers? Ex-boyfriends in which case this outfit will not do and I don't have makeup on.

But bald and in PJ's at 3pm? Shuddering nightmare... DadJokes has been fielding neighbourly requests for tin openers, or ASOS couriers, but he does have to go to work too.  Normally I ignore the door, but in the case of (I later discovered) new neighbour Steve from upstairs, I could be seen doing chores through the window and my TV could be heard in the living room, so I had no choice but to put on trusted bobble hat and open door. Sweaty from chores, zero makeup, or hair obviously, and in said woolly hat in 26 degrees. And I had to sort of slouch my shoulders forward to try and minimise the zero-bra-thin-tshirt-factor. This situation was uncomfortable to say the least. Nice guy though...

So, I have developed, with the help of my trusty makeup and hours of trial and error, a 'Ready For Knocks' trick, that basically means I look much less, well, cancerous, but doesn't involve the usual mascara on lashes battle (lashes? ha!), and actually doesn't even look like I'm wearing makeup. Its like Jennifer Anniston for bald people. And I can even be bothered to do it everyday, just in case, which is really saying something.

So here's where I'm at: Lash count, maybe 4 or 5 stubs on the top lid. Which buckle under the gargantuan weight of mascara.
Brow count: precisely 3 on one, 2 on the other. Long ones too. Ridiculous.

Here's what I'm doing.

Skin: Nothing. I'm staying in all day, if there's one bonus to that its letting my skin have days off makeup. This is a no makeup makeup remember...

Brows: I use Lancome Le Crayon Sourcils Pro in Brun Cuvre, just because its more wishy washy than my usual going out Dior one, so I don't have to be precise, just scribble it on and brush it through and then sort of dot it with my fingers so it looks worn in. I'm not wearing other makeup basically, so properly 'done' brows would look weird. But here's the good bit. Since I have no natural shape to follow, I can go Kylie and give myself a mini face lift with a slight over-arch. I discovered the need after dinner with my mum when she said I looked angry with no eyebrows. Strange but true. (if you need a tip, mine is don't literally draw an arch, I normally do a straight diagonal line up, then a straight line down, with a 3:1 length ratio, just make the 'up' line ever so slightly longer for a higher arch). So, eye-lifting, happy-looking arch in place...

Eyes: I'm using Topshop Bold Liner in Graphite, it's ltd ed, but 'London' by Nars is close, which is a foggy grey. I reckon this works on any skin or hair colour, black or brown is too much with no other makeup, this is the colour of a shadow, which is perfect. Draw a line inside the lower lash line, and then, and this is a bit tricky, inside the top one too. Drawing along lash line looks like eyeshadow, but inside just does a weird thing to define your eyes but not look like makeup. It's genius, even though I say so myself, which yes, does make me a genius...

That's it. 30 seconds (bet Jennifer Anniston takes longer), doesn't need makeup remover to come off even, and lasts a whole day of sitting around waiting for knocks at doors.

Now I have a few weeks worth of fluffy head too, this trick is making me feel OK to ditch the bobble hat for the summer. Sort of. Wig angel Claire is coming round tonight with "Two special guests. Ooo who could they be...?" So I'm ready; no makeup makeup on, actual clothes in place of PJ's and my hat, on standby, next to the front door. They'd better be worth the extra laundry...