The "Smoky Eye" Story (or "Why I Love My Husband, Reason #467)
We were sitting side by side on chaise lounges on Waikiki Beach on day 2 or 3 of our vacation to Hawaii. I could feel Michael staring at my face, and I was wondering what the deal was. Did I have a zit? A random black hair growing out of my chin? Grey hairs? I tensed, waiting for it.
"WHAT?"
"A smoky eye. I love how that looks. Why don't you ever do a smoky eye?"
"Because I don't know how."
"Where do you learn?"
"I don't know. Sephora?"
"OK, let's go to Sephora."
Two nights later, I found myself in the Sephora at the Ala Moana shopping center in Honolulu. I am incredibly shy in situations like these, and just walked around browsing, hoping a salesperson would mysteriously appear and intuitively sense my need for a smoky eye. Yeah, that didn't happen. And that's when Michael took over.
He walked over to a salesperson and asked her if she could show me how to do a smoky eye. I think she was shocked. I'm assuming that not many men approach her with that request. She proceeded to teach me all of the smoky eye basics. It was AWESOME.
Amazingly, while she was applying my makeup, she asked if Michael and I were newlyweds! I don't know if it was the glow from being childless for a week, or his concern with my makeup situation, or the residual joy that was eminating from us following our superb meal at the Side Street Inn, but she truly thought we were on our honeymoon.
I've been wearing the smoky eye ever since and am loving it. Next step? The cat eye.
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