The beauty-editor corps has enlarged exponentially with the blogosphere. If you call us all together at once, the mob-scene aspect is a little staggering. There we all were, at the far–West Side studio (it seemed to take up almost an entire city block) of the artist Hunt Slonem: Whitewashed old room after whitewashed old room was crammed with paintings (10 deep in places), Oriental rugs, wild furniture from seemingly every period.
Mr. Slonem also loves birds and has many—it seemed like upwards of 20 or 30 of them, in every size, including several toucans the size (and temperament) of robust toddlers. The birds—inside and outside of their cages—were all at one end of a large central gallery, and they were agitated, screaming at the top of their lungs. The biggest among them loomed and hopped and bobbed in a way that was either disarmingly cute or terrifyingly menacing.
L’Oréal was introducing a new mascara; executives stepped up to speak at the microphone about its many attributes, but the birds drowned out anything anyone tried to say. People shouted, shh’d and cleared their throats to no avail—but the birds triumphed, utterly and completely.
There was nothing to do but take home the mascara and try it. And: best freakin’ mascara ever. It’s super-black and curves your lashes upward perfectly, the butterfly-wing-ish shape gets into the corners like nothing else and somehow, it leaves not a clump. Triumph!
L’Oréal Paris Voluminous Butterfly Mascara, $9, drugstore.com