February 9, 2010

It’s okay to look different. As long as different means the same. [Glossed Over]

Hooray! The trend of “photographing naked women to pretend we care about body image issues” continues today, with the latest issue of LOVE Magazine hitting newsstands across the UK. For its third annual “Fashion Icons” special issue, LOVE shot eight different covers, depicting eight naked supermodels in the same pose. As LOVE editor-in-chief Katie Grand told Vogue.co.uk, “We did this to show how much they differed physically from one another, which is why we also printed their measurements.”

I mean, thank goodness. If they didn’t explain the many millimeters of difference in the waist-to-hip ratios of Daria Werbowy, Naomi Campbell, and Kate Moss, above, I might have thought this was just another way of reinforcing the beauty standard that says I should be six feet tall with a concave stomach and visible rib cage.

Now I understand that there’s at least an inch or two of variation in terms of just how concave my stomach must be.

Oh and also, that I can wear my hair up or down.

World, today you are indeed my oyster.

February 8, 2010

Three Months Down: Beauty U just isn’t so pretty.

The Three Month State of Beauty U Report continues.

Okay, I’ve told you that we’re sleep deprived and living on junk food. Now let’s talk wardrobe. The first few weeks at Beauty U, we took the dress code seriously: Black shirt, black pants or skirt, Beauty U apron or spa jacket on top. Professional is the watch word Miss Jenny keeps coming back to on this front. “You don’t have to look like a super model every day, girls — just keep it professional.”

But first of all? The polyester Beauty U aprons don’t withstand much washer-dryer action before they start to fray. Plus, when you spend the whole night mucking around with white or light-colored lotions and powders, an all-black uniform starts to seem like a questionable move. Then there’s that whole issue of jeans not fitting so well anymore. We might have started out in black dress pants and cute flats, but most of us are down to black sweat pants and sneakers now. I’ve figured out that if I wear my black yoga pants to school and then go to bed in them afterwards, it greatly increases the odds that I’ll be able to wake up in time to hit a yoga class before work the next morning. We’ve also generally stopped wearing makeup, because it’s just an extra hassle to wash it off before we practice facials anyway, and you already know how infrequently I brush my hair.

Again, big heaping soup spoons full of irony here. I think Miss Jenny keeps mentioning “looking professional” because in another month or so, we’ll be done with the textbook and ready to start working in the spa on real, live, not-fellow-student clients, and she’s hoping she can get some of us back into real pants by then. No promises.

So that’s where we are, gang: Three months and 176 hours down, six months and 424 hours to go. I can name almost every layer of the skin, apply eyeliner in an almost-straight line, and even give you a glycolic peel (if you can withstand the pain). As these last few posts show, the honeymoon period is ending. Most of my classmates started our program overflowing with excitement — they were passionate about makeup and skin care and thrilled to be pursuing a long-held dream that would lead to a glamorous and lucrative career.

I hear a lot less of that excitement now and a lot more worry about whether all this hard work will lead to a job that’s really better than their current low-paying service industry gig — or, given the economy, if there will be any jobs at all.

Now I’d love to hear from you: What did I miss in this Three Month State of Beauty U Report? What else are you dying to know about the inner workings of beauty school, this project, or the beauty industry in general? Put your questions in the comments or email me [beautyschooledproject (at) gmail (dot) com] and I’ll work on answering them in some upcoming posts!

February 5, 2010

Pretty Price Check (02.05.10)

The Pretty Price Check: Your Friday round-up of how much we paid for beauty last week.


$300: The value of the grab bag you could win if American Apparel decides you have the Best Bottom in the World. (Via The Cut.) Or here’s a better idea: Join the just-launched American Apparel Girlcott by sending Dov this great protest letter.

85: The percent of American women who are walking around wearing the wrong-sized bra according to Oprah and every women’s magazine ever. Except, maybe that’s not quite true says Kate Harding over on Salon’s Broadsheet, who has the nerve to suggest grown-up women are capable of figuring out whether their boobs are comfy without an intervention from those relentless Victoria’s Secret saleswomen.

3,163: The number of chemicals potentially involved whenever you see the word “fragrance” on a beauty product. Manufacturers claim fragrances are proprietary formulas, so they don’t have to spell out which ones they use on the product’s label, but the International Fragrance Association finally succumbed to pressure from curious consumers like you and published the whole list. The bad news? EWG’s Envirobloggers found 1 in 20 ingredients on the list rate a “high hazard” score in their Skin Deep database.

75: The percent of American girls who rate fashion as “really important,” according to a Girl Scouts of America survey. And this would be why it matters when magazines only show skinny models (plus the new token normal-sized naked one) and claim it’s because the designers only send them sample sizes. (Via Jezebel.)

February 4, 2010

Three Months Down: I miss real food.

The Three Month State of Beauty U Report continues.

The other thing about being in school every weeknight from 6 to 10 PM? That used to be when dinner happened. As in, a meal, often containing vegetables, which I cooked and sat down to eat — at a table, or even better, curled up on the couch in my PJs.

Now dinner is something that happens in under 15 minutes sometime between 5 and 5:30, when I’m also frantically finishing up work for the day and running around the house looking for my Beauty U apron. Think PB&J or whatever motley assortment of leftovers I’ve got in the fridge. And because we all eat like that, so fast and so early, when we take our 15-minute break at 7:30 or 8 PM, we’re hungry all over again and end up rounding things out with a trip to the vending machine, Dunkin Donuts, or Subway. Then I chase that with a pre-bedtime bowl of cereal around 10:30 or 11 PM.

Which brings me to another thing I miss after three months in beauty school: Being 5 pounds lighter. Bear with me while I break my New Year’s Resolution to stop talking about what I eat, and with the inherent hypocrisy that is me complaining about my weight while simultaneously writing a blog that’s all about challenging beauty standards. Because these are just the facts: Before I started at Beauty U, I ate fast food maybe once every two or three months, on a road trip or when in recovery mode after a big night out. I’m no purist, it just wasn’t part of my daily diet. Now I eat some form of fast food (a couple of munchkins, a pack of M&Ms, a sub slathered in delectable Chipotle Southwest mayo) three or four nights a week. Not to mention, working all day and schooling all night doesn’t leave a lot of free time for exercise. As a result, my jeans are getting tight and I have the broken-out forehead of an angry 13-year-old boy.

“I wish we could work in a salon without mirrors,” one of my classmates says as we’re fitting in some makeup practice between facials. “I hate seeing how bad I look every time I turn around.” An hour later, I hear another woman say, “I used to have a smoking body, but ever since we started here, I’ve just let myself go.”

We talk about bringing healthier snacks, we talk about going for walks during break instead of eating crap. Then we remember how we’re exhausted and starving and need a pick-me-up to get through the next two hours of class. And that Beauty U is located in the back of a strip mall filled with fast food joints and little else.

I’m not saying that personal responsibility doesn’t come into it. There’s a healthy amount of misery-loves-company going into that decision to go on a doughnut run. The one student who always abstains and snacks on dried fruit and nuts instead is perceived as a bit of a snob by the rest of the class. (She is not me. Obviously. Or my jeans would still fit.) But it would be nice if Beauty U stocked something besides Twizzlers and Doritos in the break room vending machine.

Like I said yesterday, this isn’t a woe is me thing. I’m keeping it in perspective and a couple of pounds in the line of duty ain’t no thing. Plus, as a freelance writer (without any kids at that), I’ve got the most flexible schedule of anyone there, so I know I’ll be able to return to my usual habits in a couple of months. Also, I really do try to practice what I preach and would like to shut the hell up about what I’m eating already.

But forget about beauty standards for just a second. A good percent of the Beauty U night school population is overweight in the way that comes with health complications, not naked Glamour photo shoots. And we just read the Milady’s textbook chapter on how nutrition affects your skin. So the irony is being lost on no one that we’re learning to sell beauty, health, and relaxation and all the while we’re making a weary beeline for the McDonald’s across the parking lot every night.

[Photo: "You are What You Eat," by Amber Hewitt, via Flickr.]

February 3, 2010

More forbidden food beauty products. [Glossed Over]

Have I not made myself clear on this subject?

Because the trend of beauty products packaged to resemble junk food is still going strong, according Sephora’s Beauty and the Blog, which is breathlessly heralding the forthcoming launch of Cake Beauty on Sephora.com. The products are named things like Satin Sugar and Deserted Island, and bear the not-at-all-condescending tagline “You Deserve This.”

Let’s go over this one more time then: Cake is for eating. Not for wearing on your face. And especially not for telling yourself you’re not allowed to eat it, but smelling the plastic beauty product version of it is just as satisfying. Because it is not.

So please, have your cake and… you know the rest.

February 3, 2010

Three Months Down: The State of the Beauty U. Report.

It’s week 12, grasshoppers.

That means I’m three months in, and about one-third of the way through my 600 hours at Beauty U. Thus, a little stock-taking seems appropriate and I’m lining up several posts to tell you what I’ve figured out so far.

First, a caveat: A lot of this taking of stock is going to sound like whining, so I want to be clear right now that I know I volunteered for this business. And there’s a lot about this experience that I’m loving, like bonding with my fellow Beauty U students and getting to interact with all of you guys on this here blog. But a lot has changed about my day-to-day life since embarking on this and I think some of it is worth mentioning.

So here goes:

Three Months Down, Observation #1: I Miss Weeknights.

Weeknight couch potato time: On hold.

I’m at Beauty U every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday from 6 to 10 PM, which is the part-time schedule. The full-time schedule runs Monday through Friday from 9 AM to 4 PM and you finish in about half the time. Trust me, nobody signs up for the part-time program unless they have to work full-time during the day and don’t have another option.

In our class, we have an event planner, a guidance counselor, a daycare worker, a home healthcare aid, a receptionist, a grocery store clerk, and a waitress. (Plus me, a magazine writer.) Working all day + School all night = Exhaustion being the major conversational theme at Beauty U. We drink a lot of coffee and soda. There’s a running joke that nobody is allowed to yawn, because as soon as one of us does, the rest of the room catches it.

I used to use my weeknights to hang out with my husband, call my mom, catch up on email, watch TV, fold laundry, go shopping, have dinner with friends, or read a book. The majority of those activities are now on hold until I graduate in mid-August, or getting crammed in on weekends as best I can, or after I get home at 10:15 PM. Because as tired as we all are in the classroom at 9 PM, when you get home, you’re wired. We’re all up puttering on the computer or cleaning our kitchens until midnight or later, which helps with getting things done, but not so much with feeling well-rested the next day.

Plus, most of my fellow students also have kids that they’re leaving with parents or sitters to come to class, which ups the exhaustion factor in ways I can’t even fathom. Sue says her nine-year-old waits up to see her when she gets home at 10:30 PM every night. Meg’s two-year-old cries at the window while she drives off to class.

“You just have to remember that you’re doing this so you can get a better job and make a better life for your kids,” Leslie, one of the senior students, tells them during break when everyone is passing around cell phones with pictures of the kids they never get to see. “So it sucks to leave them, but it’s worth it.”

I hope she’s right. Because there are times — like when we’re picking hair clumps out of the spa wraps, or scraping hardened wax drippings off the floor, or hauling trash out to the dumpster in 7 degree weather, but enough, you get the not so pretty picture I’m painting here already — when I’m really not so sure.



February 2, 2010

[Beauty Overheard] J.D. Salinger knew pretty (and bad poetry) when he saw it.

Okay, so this is reading, not hearing. But in honor of J.D. Salinger’s recent demise, Peculiar Beauty has a great post on his thoughts on beauty.

My favorite, from the story Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes:

“Christ, it’s embarrassing–I start thinking about this goddam poem I sent her when we first started goin’ around together. `Rose my color is. and white, Pretty mouth and green my eyes.’ Christ, it’s embarrassing–it used to remind me of her. She doesn’t have green eyes–she has eyes like goddam sea shells, for Chrissake.”

[Have you heard something — good/bad/ugly or just plain interesting— about being pretty? Send your quotes to beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com and I’ll post ‘em here. Names changed, of course, so scout’s honor for accurate reporting.]

February 1, 2010

Pretty Price Check & Beauty Schooled on Feminist Blogs! (02.01.10)


Why did Rainbow Brite need to grow up and get Barbie-fied? Find out at Feministing, one of many great blogs in the Feminist Blogs network.

Big news, sports fans!

I’m so pleased to announce that Beauty Schooled is going into syndication, joining the ranks of Feministing, Feministe.us, Gender Across Borders and tons of other provocative, inspiring, and hilarious blogs on the mega-blogging network Feminist Blogs: Independent alternatives to the malestream media.

Current Beauty Schooled readers, don’t fret now: Posts will be published simultaneously on the Feminist Blogs feed and here on beautyschooledproject.com, in your inbox (if you’ve subscribed via email), or in your blog reader of choice if you’ve subscribed that way. (Hey, if you haven’t — click here to subscribe now and thanks a whole bunch for doing that.) But do click on over to feministblogs.org to explore all my neighboring bloggers there. And, if supporting independent journalism is your cup of tea, please make a donation, because us feminist bloggers rely heavily on the support of viewers like you.

New readers and fellow feminist bloggers who are just discovering Beauty Schooled: Hi there! You can find out what I’m up to here, catch up with school news here.

Or, just keep reading this post for The Pretty Price Check, your Friday (sometimes Monday) round-up of how much we paid for beauty last week:

  • 40 pounds in 4 months: How Christina Aguilera got her body back post-pregnancy, as the baby weight craze gathers steam. Jezebel and Daily Beast explain why this trend sucks.
  • $485: What you’ll pay for a session of skin needling, aka having a spike-covered roller run over your face to stimulate collagen production and make you look younger. Angelina Jolie is a fan, but let’s not use her as our model of good decision-making, okay? (Via tough-as-nails Beauty Counter, who says the pain is worth the gain.)
  • $1.9 billion: A rough estimate of how much boys (yes, boys) aged 8 to 19 spend on grooming products, a trend that’s going way beyond Axe Body Spray, as explored in yesterday’s New York Times story. Sounds like Dove will have their finger on the pulse when they release their first Real Beauty ad targeted at men during the Superbowl this Sunday. (I remain on the fence about whether these ads are part of the problem or the solution.)
  • $588: How much the average American (read, those of us who eschew skin needling and try to keep our kids off Axe) spends on personal care products and services each year, according to The Simple Dollar, who has a bunch of good tips on how you can get away with spend even less.

January 27, 2010

Oils from the earth. On my jeans.

My 600-hour adventure in esthetics school. Read about the project or catch up with weeks 1-10.

This, for the uninitiated, is a paraffin foot dip.

At Beauty U, we keep blocks of paraffin wax constantly melting in a warmer, which looks like a large, rectangular crockpot, circa 1978. When someone wants a paraffin dip, we use a disposable plastic cup to scoop out some molten wax and pour it into gallon-size plastic baggies (for feet) or pair of latex gloves (for hands). Then we kneel before the client, carefully lower their appendage into the hot wax and give it a little massage to spread the wax around.

Those are my feet up there (I don’t have permission to photograph anyone but myself at Beauty U) so I can tell you that while it looks ridiculous, a paraffin dip feels AWESOME. These days, there aren’t too many beauty treatments that I’m getting excited about — maybe because last week centered around having my face bathed in acid— but I would get this done every day if they let me. It’s heaven on earth if you go through winter with permanently cold hands and feet (like I do), or spent your weekend sanding and stripping wallpaper (like I did) so now your hands feel like sandpaper, because paraffin is warm and toasty and turns your skin to butter. (Oh, and unlike the wax used on your bikini line, hot paraffin wax doesn’t stick to your skin. It just cools down to a Playdoh-like texture that peels right off.)

But paraffin dips are definitely from the department of it’s better to receive than to give. It doesn’t help that tonight is one of those nights when we’re all feeling the pain of stuck-here-till-10-PM. The teachers are squabbling with each other over tests gone missing and scheduling changes. Stephanie’s cats have a tape worm. One of the senior girls is on a tear about the rest of us not remembering to take out the trash. The cosmetology students put their towels in our dryer yet again, so all our sheets and spa wraps come out covered in gummy clumps of hair.

And I go to perform my first-ever paraffin hand dip on Miss Jenny, hold the wax-filled glove at the wrong angle, and do this instead:

To my favorite pair of jeans (which, by the way, I’m only wearing because getting a 95 or higher on a written exam entitles you to a one-night jean pass).

I also coat a good portion of the floor, which means spending the next half hour scraping it up with a popsicle stick.

And so ends my paraffin love affair.

Related: Whenever Milady’s refers to paraffin wax, mineral oil, petrolatum, and the like, it makes sure to note that these petroleum-derived ingredients are “oils from the earth.” There are also a lot of comforting phrases like “biologically inert,” “hypoallergenic,” and “time-tested.”

I guess that’s all technically true, but don’t words like that make just about anything sound nicer? Like you might dig up some lovely “oil from the earth” while mucking about in the garden or frolicking with some cute woodland creatures.

You know, instead of getting it this way:

And seriously: Anyone know how to get wax out of denim?

[Paraffin wax photos via my iPhone, oil drilling photos via HowStuffWorks.]

January 25, 2010

[Beauty, Overheard]

From a proud grandmother, pondering whether her granddaughters, ages 9 and 6, are beautiful:

“Sometimes Tabitha looks terrible, sometimes Aurelia looks lovely — it’s really too soon to say.  But you do wonder, what will they be?”

[Have you heard something pretty unbelievable about being pretty? Send your quotes to beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com and I’ll post ‘em here. Names changed, of course, so scout’s honor for accurate reporting.]