Welcome to my work station. You are now looking at — day and night versions — of where I do the best I can with what natural resources I have left enhanced by hope and a few fetish products I believe make a difference.
A window above provides natural light and all the bulbs around the large mirror make me feel as if I’m about to go on stage. Before you make any assumptions: The smaller, round mirror on the stand is NOT of the the magnifying type. I just pull it up as close to my face as possible barely allowing enough space for my beauty utensils to fulfill their functions and that’s it. If I miss anything, I can’t see it. There are a lot of pluses to near-sightedness one doesn’t fully appreciate until reaching a certain age. I NEVER want to see my face magnified. Why would anyone want to start her day in a state of depression?
In your two previous weekend cadeaux you saw my non-functioning dressing tables, or at least not functioning as dressing tables. In their past lives they surely did; I hope with beautiful French ladies perfumed, powdered and rouged wearing sumptuous taffeta gowns, velvet capes and glittering bijoux.
This one was designed and commissioned by my reason-for-living-in-France and as he would point out if you were standing next to him: “Note the rounded corner of the wood.”
It’s modern, functional and a different kind of beautiful. I can splash and spill to my heart’s content never causing any irreparable (or at the very least expensive) damage to a precious antique.
While I was clicking away I decided to take a picture of my can’t live without face-savers. Then, suddenly I realized I forgot my BioDerma. Of course I had to stop everything, run up-stairs and snap it. Thought maybe you might like to see these little treasures. Yes, I know I’ve talked about them almost as much as creoles, but still. . .
Did you notice I set mine out to give you concrete proof I wear them every day? Look closely.
Have a wonderful, wonderful weekend.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you what’s coming up next week. Is that exciting or what. . .?