So many of my foundational beauty memories bloomed in the twilight hours in friends’ bedrooms, getting ready to go out. In our wake, there was the smell of hair barbecuing on heat-styling tools, humid clouds of perfume and hair spray, and makeup scattered across beds and bathrooms as we jockeyed for mirror space.
This is where I learned how to soften an eyeliner pencil by flicking it through a flame before application, how to remove the security tag from a French Connection studded tee, and what the cool makeup brands were. (MAC! Urban Decay! Stila!) Black eyeliner was my Excalibur at the time. (Still kind of is.)
