Beauty: 95 posts

I love re-reading the childhood letters I had exchanged with my friend Yulia. Here are two 12 year olds dispensing exercise tips, sharing lists of favorite books (The Thorn Birds with all of the sexy passages highlighted makes a frequent appearance) and offering beauty advice. “I tried a strawberry mask for the first time today,” mentions Yulia in one letter. As I got a little older, I too became a strawberry mask devotee. I remain one today. Summer is indelibly linked in my mind with the pink blush of strawberry juice on my cheeks.

A strawberry mask is the simplest of beauty treatments. You take a large, juicy berry, break it in half and rub the juice generously all over your clean face and neck. Since you only use the juice, the mask won’t slide off, and you can carry on with your morning preparations. Leave it for 5 to 20 minutes, depending on how much time you have, and rinse off with cool water. Strawberries contain alpha-hydroxy acids that exfoliate skin gently, and the mask brightens and softens the skin. The best part is that it smells heavenly, and since I usually do my face treatments in the morning, the jolt of floral strawberry perfume feels especially rejuvenating.

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I’m going to let you in on a secret–there is something I’m even more obsessed about than perfume, travel, food, and books. It’s sunscreen. I realize that it may not sound like a particularly interesting passion. It sounds a little boring (or plain odd, depending on your thoughts about tanning). In my world, however, sunscreen is wonderful and fascinating, and searching for the next perfect product can be an exciting adventure. I learned Korean to read sunscreen labels. (Yes, I admit, I’m a little odd, but I assure you that my eccentricities are mostly harmless.)

My interest in sunscreen was precocious. I never enjoyed tanning, and I figured that it would be easier to keep my skin in its natural pale state than try changing it into something it refuses to be–fashionably bronze. Little by little, I started exploring sunscreens and accumulated quite a repertoire. I wear sunscreen every day, and I enjoy the process.

I also enjoy the results from using sunscreen. It helps to keep my skin smooth, resilient and free from sun spots. No other cream or skin care trick will achieve the same effect over the long run. But when people say that they don’t like sunscreen, I can easily understand their sentiment. Many sunscreens available in the US and Europe are far from ideal.  Their finish is either too greasy or too white. US sunscreens don’t offer full spectrum protection, because many active ingredients still haven’t been approved by the FDA. Also, they are often too strongly perfumed. As much as I love scents, I don’t want to smell my sunscreen.

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Metro rides in cities around the world are a fascinating anthropological experience. In New York, you quicky learn how not to invade people’s personal space, even when the subway car is stuffed like a can of sardines. In Paris you observe the artful way men cross their legs and tie their. In Kyiv, you can learn your neighbor’s whole life story before you reach your stop. In Tokyo, on the other hand, you pick up makeup tips. If you ride during the famous Tokyo rush hour, when you’re pressed against your neighbor in a manner more intimate than one might countenance otherwise, it becomes especially easy. Of course, do your observations without staring at people, which would be seen as inexcusably rude. (Also, don’t wear too much perfume either, another cultural taboo.)

One aspect of Japanese makeup I’ve always loved is the perfect cat’s eye look. The eyeliner might be sharply drawn against the naturally colored lid or smudged with different colors for an elegant smoky effect. I’ve admired this look on so many women in the streets of Tokyo that I became determined to master the art of elegant calligraphy on my eyelids.

The quest turned out to be easier than I realized, and it involved a drugstore eyeliner from a brand called Kate. It’s sold widely in Asian makeup emporiums and 24 hour shops (the rest of us will need Ebay). One pen costs $5 to $15, depending on where you buy it, but even at the higher end of the price, Kate is worth every penny.

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A couple of years ago my aunt gave me a book called L’Art de Simplicité (The Art of Simplicity) that promised to declutter my life. After the first five pages, I felt like a failure. My bedroom is nothing like a room at a Zen monastery, my kitchen resembles a spice aisle at Kalustyan’s, and my living room with its overspilling bookshelves is more reminiscent of a public library during children’s hour than a space where two adults live.

After reading much sensible advice on paring down and retaining only the essentials, I put L’Art de Simplicité down in my ziggurat of other books and haven’t picked it up since. You know what? I like having a bit of chaos in my life. It doesn’t stress me out that my perfume samples aren’t sorted alphabetically or that I have far too many bottles of flavored vinegar. What are the essentials anyway? What if I want to make salad with blackcurrant and rose vinegar today and try grilled chicken marinated in the juniper variety. I also can’t decide whether I want to wear a cologne or a voluptuous rose, so all options are around.

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The white petals swirl around me. I look up and see star shaped blossoms dotting the blue sky. I should be enjoying our cherry orchard while strolling through it with a book of Japanese poetry or lounging under the trees with a cup of tea. Instead, my hands are covered with wet soil, and I’m dressed in something that used to be my grandmother’s housedress. It’s the potato planting season, and moments of quiet contemplation are few and far between. I promise myself that I will live out my 19^th century country manor fantasies one of these days, but as the Japanese poets know only too well, the blossoming cherry is the embodiment of impermanence, a bittersweet reminder of the transience of life. The next day the rains come, and most of the dazzling glory is lying on the ground splattered in mud.

Every spring I desperately want the cherry blossoms to last longer, to have more days of walking up to the snow white froth outside my window, to bury my face into the mass of petals, and just to feel the exuberance of spring around me. As the season runs its course, the textures and colors of cherry flowers seep into my day to day life and linger long after the petals turn to dust. Last year, I experimented with Japanese seasonal recipes and tried salted cherry blossoms in sakura tea and steamed flounder (marinate fish in sake, add a pinch of salt and a few salted blossoms before setting it in the steamer). This year, my makeup kit is all cherry blossom themed, with the appropriate perfumes to complement the look.

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