Not sh*tting you here. I really did. I’m no stranger to following tutorials to be fair – about ninety per cent of the makeup skills I currently possess were attained through vigorous beauty guru viewing. But, I couldn’t help feeling like a Bretman Rock tutorial might be a little too advanced for me! I’ll link the video below so you can judge for yourselves:
I mean… wow.
I knew I was going to be there for a while. By my standards anyway; I usually spend about an hour max on my everyday makeup look, and I just sensed I was going to be at my desk for the best part of three hours.
So, I grabbed my New Look mermaid martini glass of icy-cold water, lined up some sweets, and got to work.
IDK about you, but fixing my hair is the worst part of my morning routine. Honestly, I’m not liking my hair at the moment; it’s dry, split-endy and gross. I am trying to limit the amount of heat I apply to it before I get it cut again, but we were talking boujee here. I needed to look like a boss ass b*tch, and I have a very specific hairstyle for that. Sleek, straight hair à la Zendaya, anyone?
So, after a whole hour, I was finally ready to start on my makeup. I think the thing I was dreading the most was the eyes… I’m fab at neutrals, neutrals are definitely my thing. I couldn’t say, however, that I was particularly a dab-hand at a heavy, dark, smoky eye. But I was armed with my Morphe 35O palette, about ten different eye brushes and more than enough enthusiasm. I was ready to go.
We need to talk about the amount of high-end products he uses. Oh yeah, just take your Tom Ford highlighter, your Yves Saint Laurent Touché Eclat concealer, blah, blah, blah… Okay, I thought whilst taking out my NYX everything.
The baking… IDK, it made me feel quite crusty. I have combination skin, but it does err on the drier side at the latter end of the year. I do bake, but very lightly and I don’t leave it for very long. As Ms. Bretman Rock says; ‘I AM NOT THE ONE, B*TCH. I. AM. NOT. THE. ONE.’
The eyes turned out okay, I mean, I don’t own false eyelashes because they either end up getting lost or broken (definitely not because I can’t apply them properly…). I also didn’t love the whole adding-kohl in the middle thing, but meh. It didn’t look particularly hideous.
At this point, it was past lunchtime. I was hungry, I felt crusty, I almost aborted the entire look. Welcome to:
Rock, you nearly broke me. I think it was all the highlight. Dear God, Bretman loves to highlight. As I was using three different highlighters on my highpoints; y’know, cheekbones, nose, cupid’s bow, ears… (Yep, ears). I was reminded of a certain saying. Something about not being able to polish a turd. Hmmmm…
So then, I looked in the mirror and saw the final, finished product. I can honestly say, without hyperbole, that I’ve never looked worse. I felt like Marge after Homer shoots the makeup gun on her:
DISCLAIMER: Bretman, that sh*t looks AMAZING on you. I’m just not a boujee bad b*tch. Thank you for helping me to accept this.
I took one last, shameful look in the mirror before deciding it was selfie time. If not for my own, rapidly decreasing self-esteemed sake; but for yours, dear reader. And before I show it to you, you need to know that Snapchat filters hide a multitude of sins.
A. Multitude. Of. Sins.