MAKE ME UP

PARADOXICAL PREPARATIONS

It’s Friday, and I’ve got an early end to my work day. Next Friday is Iona’s first show in a new bar, not just any show, but the headliner act. We are practicing some make-up styles tonight, because, admittedly, it is Iona’s weakest drag skill. The door isn’t locked. Anxiety rushes through me at this casual compromise on safety, but the sight of the living room tells me that I’m entering the cusp of something fabulous happening. The only problem is, I don’t know what I’m looking at yet, and feel like an extremely uncultured tourist perusing the artwork of the Louvre, knowing that something is special, but not knowing why. Dressed in the black Kimono from our first meeting, Luis is hunched over his Singer Sewing machine, the tip of his tongue poking out in concentration, and his nose practically running the seam length of his outfit along with the rapidly moving needle. Timing and preparation have been put on the back burner, as Luis’ transformation into Iona Rodd is in the very early stages.

“I’m re-interpreting the Givenchy dress that Zoe Saldaña wore at the 2010 Academy Awards”. Luis calls out to me, but never takes his eyes off the fabric.

Four shades of purple feathers are bagged up in transparent, plastic wrapping. Comically, the usually pristine living room looks like a very bright soft play center that got into a fight with a blackcurrant. Accepting that there is nowhere to sit, I take a closer look at his masterpiece in progress. On his manikin, there is a satin skirt in a soft lilac shade, which has a slit running from thigh to floor. At the waist it opens up like a stiff upside-down peplum. The rhombic clunking of the sewing machine has come to a stop, and Luis heads towards the manikin with his arms outstretched. Sequins dazzle on the bodice he created as he carefully completes the upper half of his artwork.

“Where did you learn this skill?” I ask, completely stunned by the detail in his ensemble, even though the bodice is yet to be completed.

“At school we had to do an extracurricular club. I told my parents that I was doing gymnastics, so they wouldn’t question the studs and sequins that I bought, but actually, I went to textiles instead. The teacher said I had a natural talent”.

“She was right”. I replied, but I couldn’t help sympathise that he had to hide what he loved for so long as a child.

“I can do a hem better than a backflip, that’s for sure”, he laughs.

I wonder if he had been allowed to explore this talent more in his youth, would he have ever been Luis the accountant? Such thoughts are made for sadder days. Luis decides to prepare himself in the bedroom, while I set up in the kitchen.

Preparing the pallets that I want to try first to compliment his outfit, I pull out all the shades of purple and silver I have. I still feel as if something is missing. Balancing between vibrant and elegant, I settle on a white eye shadow, although I’m not quite sure what to do with it yet. Luis has gelled his hair and scraped if flat, so that his net gives a smoother surface for his wig that he will put on after his makeup. Hitching up on the bar stool, he looks nervous.

“Do you know what you want?” I ask him, but for the first time since I’ve met him, he seems unsure.

He shakes his head.

“Do you trust me?”

He smiles, and holds my hand.

“Absolutely!”

Drawing on his eyebrows, I want them to look formidably flirty. The arch is high and ticks off near the temple, and already his eyes appear fuller. Putting the silver shades all the way up to the brow line, it highlights the space perfectly. Happy, I proceed to add the depth of sparkle with each layer. I keep thinking how special this moment is. Often at work, people want to hide who they are, but for the first time I feel as if I’m doing the opposite. I’m bringing out a person’s truth, not because I’m making Luis’ features feminine, but rather because I’m creating the outward presentation of a person who is desperate to be seen. I’m painting confidence on his face, so that Iona will feel protected enough to enjoy freedom. I feel as if I’m part of a paradoxical preparation to create a reflection of a person that only Luis and I can see.

“I’m incredibly nervous. I’m hoping that next Friday a scout from Madam Drag will be in the audience. If they give Iona an invitation to apply to the show, I’ll have to submit an audience tape still, but it will give me a better chance”.

“Well, if I see the scout I’ll be making strong suggestions that he give you one, because I know you’re going to be great!” I reassure him, but stop my brush strokes when his chin begins to wobble.

“You’re going to be there?” Luis stammers through his shaky voice.

“Of course, I’ll be cheering you on. If that’s OK with you?” I quickly correct, not wanting to put him off.

“That would be wonderful. Usually, it’s just the other performers, and they are nice, but we are all in competition”. He explains, suppressing his emotion.

“Well, I’ll be doing your make-up and making sure you feel as beautiful as I know you are”.

Giving Luis a moment to compose himself, I start to apply the false eyelashes that have diamantes in the outer corner. Inspecting all sides to make sure that I am pleased with his appearance, I tap Luis on the shoulder and hold up a mirror for him.

There’s a longer pause than I would have expected, and I’m wondering if my interpretation of what he wanted is completely wrong.

That is until he holds my hand and squeezes my fingers.

“There she is, I present to you Miss Iona Rodd,”

.

My smile is stretched so wide that my cheek bones are hurting with the uncontrollable stretch. Excitedly, Iona goes to her shelf, and selects a tall, curly wig, expertly maneuvering it until it sits perfectly on her crown. Standing behind the headless manikin, she turns her outfit to look at her reflection. She seems to stand taller, her back is straighter than Luis and her face is brighter from the joy that exudes from it.

“This calls for a celebration”. She announces and brings a bottle of Prosecco from the fridge. “Don’t worry, I have double-checked that this is Gemma friendly. I promise you, there will always be food with your name on it in this house”.

Touched by his attentive nature, I clink our glasses together and let myself enjoy the bubbles.

“What’s new with you?” Iona asks, looking at me as if she can see my very spots of anxiety.

“Lincoln asked me out on a date, but it was over text and I didn’t answer him. That was last weekend, and I’ve been very successful at a game of hide and seek with him ever since”. I answer.

I drain my glass, while Iona frowns, trying to understand why I didn’t say yes to the date with the sexy international film star that she knows I really like.

“I don’t see the problem. Why are you avoiding him? Why not just say yes?” She asks, baffled.

“You know how I told you about my ex? He’s actually still very controlling. He texts me every night at ten o’clock to tell me how his day has been, as if we are still a couple. How can I invite someone else into that mess? Plus, what if the paparazzi take a photo of us? Then Tim will know exactly where I am”. I look up, genuinely hoping that Iona will have an answer.

Instead, she tops up my glass again, and takes a huge gulp of her own drink.

“I don’t really know what’s best for you, but what was the point of leaving, and moving away from your home, if you are still going to allow him to have as much influence over you now as you did then? I still feel there’s more to this, but if you want to date Lincoln, then text him and say you’d love a date. Be really clear that you don’t want it to be publicised, he’ll have people that can make that happen. You’ve moved to London to escape something, and you have. Now it’s time to enjoy your freedom”.

Along with the assured advice, and what seems like a voice of experience, she pushes my phone towards me, then leaves me to make my decision while she’s taking selfies. I scroll down my messages, past Tim, and on to Lincoln.

“I’d really like to go on a date with you”.