Love Style Life

by Garance Dore

  You know, it’s just way too easy being happy with yourself.

  Constance Jablonski

  I’m the opposite of photogenic.

  The camera hates me, which is upsetting because I love her very much. Love hurts, I’m telling you.

  No, shhhhhh, don’t argue. I didn’t say I’m ugly. I know I’m hot. I’m just saying I’m not photogenic.

  That’s the way it is. Some people capture the light perfectly right; others don’t.

  That’s why a girl can look amazing in a photo but only so-so in real life, or the opposite. Ugly in photos, sublime in day-to-day life. One percent of us are beautiful in both, and that’s because there is no justice in the world.

  I used to think that being un-photogenic was my fate, just a fact of life, but it’s not. Here are some of the tricks I’ve been forced to figure out, growing tired of looking at pictures of myself and thinking Oh, look, I look like my grandma here! Oh, and here I look like Marlon Brando in The Godfather!

  USE NATURAL LIGHT.

  Light used well is like natural Photoshop.

  When you’re inside, always stand facing the window, in front of the light. It will erase everything from wrinkles to acne to bags under your eyes.

  But be careful: Inside or outside, don’t go in direct sunlight. It will cast intense, rough shadows and make your face a Picasso. So find a spot where the light is a little more moderate or wait for the sunset’s soft light.

  At night or with no natural light available, all bets are off, because everything depends on your camera. Just try to control what you can, and…

  POWDER YOUR NOSE.

  Pat McGrath is the only one who can make dewy skin look good in pictures. If you have shiny skin, grab a tissue and tap it on your T zone. It’s simple and it works.

  Dark lipstick isn’t always great for photos; it can give a pinched look. Transparent lip gloss, on the other hand, is perfect; it plumps and freshens. Vive le lip gloss!

  The smoky eye is a miracle that widens the eye and works on everyone. And that’s great because photos tend to make eyes look smaller.

  Lastly, moisturize! Legs, arms, hands, feet…We always do this on fashion shoots, and it changes everything. My favorite lotion for a perfectly voluptuous shine is Kiehl’s Creme de Corps.

  Lauren Bastide

  BE A POSER.

  Do you know Ulyana Sergeenko, the Russian it-girl/designer who struts around the shows as if the world is her catwalk? It’s okay if you don’t; you can imagine—she’ll work the same pose for hours, and, honestly, sometimes it gets close to ridiculous.

  Yes, but. All the photos of her are perfect.

  To translate to real life, let’s just say it doesn’t hurt to figure out and master a few poses that make you look good.

  Isabel Wilker

  KNOW YOUR GOOD SIDE.

  We all have one. Knowing it changes EVERYTHING.

  Ask a friend to take a few pictures with your phone to help you figure it out, because it’s impossible to tell with a mirror. Once you’ve figured it out, use and abuse it.

  Celebrities do this all the time. When I interview celebrities on video, they won’t shy away from saying to me, “Do you mind if I sit on this side instead? It’s my good side!” And I don’t blame them—it’s their job to look good.

  I, on the other hand, have to say, “Of course!” and sit with my bad side to the camera. Damn!

  ASK YOURSELF:

  WHERE IS THE CAMERA?

  FULL BODY

  If you’re standing and the camera is above you, you’re gonna get squashed and lose five good inches—so not fair. If it’s below you, you look like a scary giant. It’s best to have the camera at chest height.

  If you’re seated, sit up and take your back off the chair.

  CLOSE UP

  Place the camera a little bit above you and lift your head toward it, which is usually where the light is coming from.

  It will hit all the right angles and define your jaw, which also helps with your angles. Very important since the goal in life of the modern woman is to have good angles.

  And my number-one piece of advice for good selfies: Look up toward the sun!

  PLAY.

  Have fun. It’s hard to do, but to be beautiful in photos you have to play with the camera a little. Move, laugh, do something silly, make a sexy face.

  Un-photogenic people are so used to bad pictures that whenever they see a camera they freeze, which only makes things worse— a vicious cycle.

  Try to tap into your emotions, laugh, chat, move, have someone tell you a story.

  Play the game, BUT…

  Wini Burkeman

  DO AS FRENCH WOMEN DO:

  LEARN TO SAY NO.

  Sometimes, conditions are perfect for a horrible photo.

  You’ve just spent the whole night out, you’re exhausted, the light is crappy, you’re wearing Big Lebowski clothes, you’re sweating, your hair looks like you spent three days at Katz’s Delicatessen (a New York institution, where gigantic portions and fried food abound!). Oh well, it’s just not your day.

  In this case, say no to the photo. Simple as that.

  It’s tough, I know. I could never say no to a photo at first. We all want to please others and end up saying to ourselves, Oh, pffff, who cares if I look ugly in photos?! And then we have to spend hours untagging bad pictures and praying no one will recognize us.

  Okay, if you really can’t say no, do what the fashion editors do: Put on the biggest sunglasses you can find. Yes, even at night.

  What, you really thought it was just to be fashionable?

  Shala Monroque

  You should hear my mother and sisters complain about their curls.

  The drama! The distress! The time spent battling nature!

  The anxiety of humidity, the menace of the roots, the instruments used to tame them.

  Curly hair is unruly, rebellious, it takes up so much space—and, also, it has a life of its own. I understand; I silently commiserate.

  But I can’t really participate.

  If I try, I get shushed and they look at me as if I’m mocking them.

  You have to understand: In my family, I’m the one with the good hair.

  Their locks are dark and curly, the proud heritage of our Mediterranean descent. Unlike my mother’s and sisters’, which tend to be on the extreme side of the frizz, my curls are soft, manageable, easy to live with.

  So I guess you could say I have nice hair—but of course it would be way too boring to sit back and enjoy it. Like every woman in this world, I want Gisele Bündchen hair (okay, I’d take Gisele Bündchen anything), meaning: beach curls, soft highlights, French messiness, all together on my a gorgeous face.

  Embracing what Mother Nature gave me? Who does that? Not me. I’ve tried everything.

  I TRIED TO ACCEPT MY HAIR.

  “What’s wrong with luscious curls?” I hear you say.

  Well, after years of studying photos of Andie MacDowell and trying to rock the curl, I’ve realized that when I set my hair free, it takes over.

  My features get eaten up by the volume, and, also, hair gets in my face. It tickles my skin like a bad mohair sweater, and as a result it always ends up in a bun.

  Embracing my curls? Maybe in a next life.

  I TRIED TO EMBRACE THE BUN.

  A bun, and especially a topknot, is great. You pull everything up, even your face comes with it. Which is, approaching forty, not a terrible side effect, right?

  A friend even told me once: “You’re a hair-up girl, that’s how you look best. That’s it! Accept it.”

  I went with it, and it became my signature look for about two years. Until one day I started noticing some broken hair. (Having your hair up all the time is terrible for the scalp. It causes traction alopecia and can permanently damage your hairline.)

  Keeping my hair in such a tight state wasn’t making me feel very sensual anyway.

  Topknot, you’re fired.

  I TRIED
TO GO OUT WITH THE BLOWOUT.

  All my girlfriends do it. Why not me?

  So I learned to blow-dry my hair to turn my wild curls into dreamy beach waves.

  Well, I’m sorry to report that I simply can’t do it. I’m not coordinated enough to do anything behind my back. I get lost in the movement. I burn my face.

  Also, blow-drying makes me sweat and I want to throw myself in the shower, undoing all that I’ve accomplished over the four hours I just spent swearing in front of my mirror.

  So, blow-dryers and flat irons, the door is that way.

  I TRIED TO USE CHEMICAL WEAPONS.

  I had a keratin treatment and IT WORKED. Miracle of miracles!!!

  I found myself with Gisele’s hair, or a close enough approximation that I could have lived with it, if only I had known before I spent five hundred dollars and four hours breathing chemicals that, no matter what I do, I still prefer my hair off my face. Even Gisele-d, I just can’t be bothered.

  FINALLY, WITH NOTHING TO LOSE, I DECIDED TO GO SHORT.

  I did a lot of research and found Clyde, a wonderful hairdresser whose salon was close to me. I knew that with short hair, you have to get ready to spend a lot of time with your hairdresser.

  Then I made a folder with all the short hairstyles I liked.

  I also added those I didn’t like, of course. I ended up with about a hundred photos. Yes, Michelle Williams, you were there. Yes, Jean Seberg, you were too. Keri Russell with short curly hair, you were there, but in the lefthand column, if you know what I mean.

  Looking at all the photos, I realized three things.

  Short hair can look good on any type of face.

  There are as many short styles as there are long.

  If everything goes wrong? Hair grows back.

  I showed my inspiration folder to some friends. I have to report that I didn’t get so much support from them. Change is scary.

  Here is a recap of their texts:

  “G, we gotta talk.” (most people)

  “I’m worried about the soccer-mom look.” (From a friend who’s a former cheerleader)

  “I’d worry about the texture. With your frizzy hair, it might take over your head.” (From a friend with a perpetual ponytail)

  “Whatever you decide, you’re beautiful; anything would work on you. Beauty comes from the inside.” (From my mother; love you, Mom!)

  It was too late anyway; my decision was made. I was ready, even if it was a mistake. I needed to know. Was I living a life that was not my own? (And by that I mean, was I trapped in the life of a long-haired girl when I was actually supposed to be a short-haired girl?)

  That’s how one day I took a double-margarita deep breath and headed off to see Clyde.

  We had a long chat.

  We were both a little bit worried about short curly hair. How would it behave?

  After long hours spent studying photos, I had decided to ask Clyde to leave some length in the front. That way the haircut would be more versatile—leaving me with the option of blowing it out a bit in the front if I needed to.

  And just like that, Clyde started cutting. I went silent.

  As my hair hit the floor, I almost felt like my past was gathering at my feet. I was freaked out and very quiet at the same time. Going short is a pretty cathartic experience. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I found myself close to tears.

  It took a long time, because we went in increments, but gradually, my face started brightening, my features getting more defined. I felt lighter and daring, inside and out.

  A few hours later, I was on my way to the café where I had planned to meet a friend, feeling so weird and undecided—I was walking with my head down, trying to catch my reflection in windows, worried and febrile…. Who was this new girl I was going to be?

  My friend saw me, and I read on her face immediately that it was going to be okay. She loved it. As for me, it took me three days to get used to it.

  I’ve had short hair for more than a year now and I am still incredibly happy about it.

  It definitely changed my life; it’s easy, different, and I get compliments on it all the time. My hair adapted so well to the cut that I don’t even have to straighten it. Combing it and letting it dry naturally works wonders. My mom and sisters hate me!

  I did have to change a few things in the way I dress (that’s called a shopping opportunity), and I cannot go out without makeup (that’s called politeness).

  When I look at old pictures of me with long hair, I barely recognize myself. I guess I was trapped in the life of a long-haired girl. It just took me some time to set the short-haired girl free.

  WAS I LIVING A LIFE THAT WAS NOT MY OWN?

  (AND BY THAT I MEAN, WAS I TRAPPED IN THE LIFE OF A LONG-HAIRED GIRL WHEN I WAS ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT-HAIRED GIRL?)

  Beauty really comes from the inside, though a little makeup always helps. We are all so different, and what works for me won’t necessarily work for you. But I rely on trial and error, and draw inspiration from the beautiful women around me. These are my essentials. I hope that they inspire you.

  The red lip is an accessory I add when I feel like my outfit needs extra sparkle, or when I want to make it a special day, or night. The tricky part is keeping lipstick in check throughout the day — so I always carry a little mirror with me.

  Dianna Lunt

  On days when you want to feel bright and glowy, a bronzer works wonders. My secret? Accent the cheeks, chin, and forehead, stay minimal everywhere else. Finish with a touch of bronzer on the eyelids, and put some gloss on your lips. I’ve used Guerlain Terracota for years. It’s very natural looking and not too sparkly.

  Camilla Deterre

  I either go clear polish or red. A deeper red for winter and a bright, coral red for summer. I like my red to look very fresh, so I only keep it on for a few days. My favorite polishes are from Essie — somehow the finish is perfect. The real secret to beautiful hands is hydrated skin, so I always keep a hydrating balm in my bag.

  Probably my favorite makeup item, for that pink, healthy glow. It makes anyone instantly more beautiful. I use it and abuse it. My favorite is from Chanel.

  Janice Alida Joseph

  It’s funny, the first thing that I discovered upon arriving in New York, apart from its gigantitude and its noise, is that all the women have PERFECTLY MANICURED nails. It put me in a deep state of self-doubt. Where was I trying to go with my chipped nails? Down in the ranks of society?

  Having perfect nails takes time, commitment, and money, yet in New York every woman does it. There must be something in the air. Something about being the best you can be, but also giving in to the pressure of perfection. Something…a little bit over the top.

  Perfectionism is a real lifestyle here. There’s a nail spa on every corner, with all the Essie colors of the rainbow at your disposal, and it’s quick and relatively cheap. So I had no excuse not to be perfectly put together right up to the cuticle.

  Still, it took me some time to adjust.

  But eventually I mastered the perfect New York manicure. You need to:

  1. LEARN A NEW LANGUAGE.

  The first time I walked into a nail spa, I stopped at the desk and I started off at the hostess:

  “Hello! I want a manicure, a pedicure, some color, and what’s this paraffin thing? Can you take me right away? How long will it take? Can I bring my own polish? What are all those crazy machines over there, and what exactly do you mean by ‘facial’? And what do you call that thing that, errrr, I forget; do you think I have good skin? What would you recommend for…”

  The receptionist stared back at me with wide eyes, a little terrified. After a rather embarrassing two minutes of silence, she started repeating:

  “Manicure? Pedicure? Manicure? Pedicure? Manicure? Pedicure? Manicure?”

  I looked around, a little lost.

  That’s when a very pretty and very busy-looking girl blazed into the salon. She picked out a polish in two seconds, put it right i
n the receptionist’s face, and, with no hello but with a big smile, said, “Manicure! Pedicure! Facial!” This was met with a knowing smile, and she was guided into the salon.

  And then I finally got it: The receptionist doesn’t speak English.

  I picked out a polish and said, “Manicure!” And look at that! It worked!

  2. BUY A PAIR OF FLIP-FLOPS. EVEN IF YOU HATE THEM, GET SOME FLIP-FLOPS.

  The second time I went to a nail spa, it was in the middle of winter. This time, I wanted to try a “Pedicure! Manicure!” The only problem was that my feet were trapped in boots, and I got a little worried about how it all would end, when I’d have to get the boots back on without letting the nails dry properly.

  With the help of a few huge gestures and hand signs, I signaled the receptionist about my boots. “You have a solution for these?”

  “No problem,” she said with her thumbs up, and showed me their futuristic drying machines.

  And I thought, Pfffff, they have it all in NYC. They even have supersonic nail dryers.

  Of course. New Yorkers have thought of it all.

  But then when I got back home and saw my new nails totally ruined, I finally understood why, even in the middle of winter, with the crazy snow and all, I had seen New Yorkers walking around, with perfectly manicured nails, IN FLIP-FLOPS.