Warpaint

Chapter 1

The Title

Growing up I was always the tall, skinny, lanky, and awkward kid. I was always the tallest or one of the tallest girls in my class. I was always taller than many of the boys and I always had to stand on the back row with the boys for our school class picture. I was teased and made fun of sometimes, which of course, hurt my feelings. One time this mean girl called me Big Bird, obviously because I had really long, skinny, legs. When I would tell my mom that one of the kids called me a name, she always told me that it was because they were jealous of me and I shouldn’t let it bother me, so I tried not to let the name calling bother me, but in reality, those words hurt.

I thought I had a fairly good self-esteem growing up. My parents always encouraged my brothers and I to do our best, whether it was schoolwork, athletics, band, or any activity that we were involved in. I took ballet, tap, and twirling when I was little but because my mom would wake me up from my nap to take me to dance, I would cry and complain that I didn’t want to go. I really loved my naps back then and I still love my naps now, so napping took precedent over any other activities. After several weeks of whining and crying on the way to dance class, my mom just gave up and let me quit. When I got to middle school, I resumed twirling lessons because I wanted to try out for the eighth-grade twirling squad. My priorities had changed; napping was no longer important but being popular was. Making twirler meant that I would get to wear cute twirling uniforms, perform at Thursday afternoon pep rallies and march with the Marching Band at Thursday night football games. I went from an obscure “nobody” to a popular “somebody”. My identity began to take form and my self-esteem got a huge boost.

I was also in all honors classes and made excellent grades. I was on the National Honor Society, which I didn’t think was such a big deal because school was easy for me, so I took accolades like Honor society induction, for granted. I was always dedicated to doing my homework, studying for all my tests, and achieving above and beyond my grade level.

When I got to high school the pressure began to mount because the stakes were even higher, to be popular. My goal was to become an officer on the drill team and true to form from past experiences, I made the drill team my sophomore year and Lieutenant my senior year. You feel special when fourteen girls try out for six positions, and I happen to be one of those five lucky girls chosen. I wasn’t the world’s best dancer, high kicker, or choreographer, but I must have impressed the band director and other judges, because I was chosen to be a lieutenant.

One of my absolute best friends growing up was Amy, she and I met at the end of seventh grade when we both tried out for the eighth-grade twirling squad. I thought I was the best twirler and should be chosen ‘Head Twirler’, but the judges chose Amy instead. It was only a momentary disappointment, and we soon became great friends. Amy’s mom, Sue Ann was a professional runway model; she was 5’11” and her looks were striking, she was very thin with flawless porcelain skin and jet-black hair cut into a chic jaw-length bob. She never wore a lot of makeup, but she always wore her signature blood-red lipstick. She walked the catwalk for hair shows, modeled clothing for local boutiques, and even made a commercial in Mexico City, Mexico. She was graceful and quirky, all at the same time, and I was an instant admirer.

During our freshman year of high school Amy’s mom opened Ultra Image, a modeling school. I was extremely excited because I had lofty aspirations of becoming a model one day, so my dad paid for six months of modeling classes. During each class we would learn various aspects of the modeling business; how to walk the runway in four-inch heels, how to apply stage makeup and how to coordinate a wardrobe. I even had a professional photographer take some headshots of me; a gawky ninth grader with shiny silver braces, not exactly what one would envision a model looking like. But I loved every minute of it. Our first session was makeup application; Sue Ann demonstrated specific techniques used to apply makeup. She began by applying an ivory-colored liquid foundation to even out my skin tone, cover up the dark circles under my eyes and any zits that I had, making sure my skin was smooth, then dusted my entire face with loose face powder. She told us that the skin on our face was like a blank canvas. A painter begins with a flawless smooth linen canvas onto which he applies the colors that he has chosen, to create his masterpiece. She explained that the analogy was the same with the skin on our face, you must start with a flawless canvas before you use color to accentuate the rest of your features, which includes your lips, eyes, and cheeks. She chose to paint my lips a shocking red, which I absolutely loved. Up until that time, I wore subtle colors like pale pink but all it took was one application of shocking red and I was hooked. It became my signature color and still is today. The complete makeover was time-consuming taking about an hour, but when she was done, I stared into the mirror somewhat surprised and pleasantly pleased with the results; I looked different and older than a fifteen- year-old. When my mom picked me up from modeling school that evening, she was taken aback by the shocking red lipstick and heavy black eyeliner. She said that she couldn’t wait for my dad to see me. When we got home, I proudly walked into the living room where my dad was watching TV and said, “Well, what do you think?” Shocked is how I would describe the look on his face. He said, “Sister, you look like you’re thirty-five years old! What happened to my little girl?” After that night I continued to wear the shocking red lipstick daily but toned down the rest of the makeup. It became a joke between my dad and I that every time I would get dressed up to go out with my friends, he would say to me as I was coming down the staircase, “Looks like you’ve got your warpaint on”, hence the title of this book.