I have to admit, being treated like Cinderella is a lot of fun, but Hollywood is a place where everyone seems to look amazing ALL the time and it can be intimidating preparing to “look your best” amidst Hollywood’s elite (I haven’t seen a size 2 since I was 2). I’ve learned a lot after preparing for last year’s Golden Globes.
Rule #1? NO SELF-TANNER!
At last year’s Golden Globes, I was beyond nervous. What do I wear? What do I say? What if I trip? Will I remember my own name? Since I always seem to break my New Year’s weight loss resolutions on January 2nd, I knew Spanx (maybe even a couple layers) were in order. I turned my attention to hair, nails and make up.
My nail appointment was scheduled as was my hair appointment, and my Laura Mercier cosmetics were lined up (love their stuff!!). But before I left for LA, I went to a local department store for some makeup advice and to get a little bronzer (to protect the innocent, I won’t reveal the store or product used in this disastrous event). I love bronzer. The store clerk suggested that to make the bronze effect look more natural, I should try a self-tanner. As a woman who grew up in Syracuse, New York, living in a pasty white body, I think the idea of looking like a healthy Californian is a bit dreamy. The store clerk gave me the sales pitch of her life – and I whipped out my credit card.
I went home and before leaving for the Miami airport, I applied the self-tanner…liberally. While driving to the airport, I continued to check my skin hoping to see the golden bronze effect emerge. It didn’t. After struggling with my luggage to get up to the check-in counter, I was asked for my driver’s license. I glanced at my hand as I passed her the license. “Agghhh!” Panic fell over me from head to toe. All I could think was, “What have I done!” My hand was orange! I fumbled for my phone dialing the store like I was dialing 911. “I’m having a self-tanning crisis!” I said to the woman who answered as I begged her for advice. How does one yell in panic while not attracting any attention? I was orange…and not a good orange. Not that there is a good orange suitable for skin tones.
The savior on the phone told me to get a scrub. So I scurried through the airport desperate to get this scrub going as fast as I could. I found it – Apricot scrub, loofah, pumice stone and makeup remover (I would have tried sandpaper at this point had she suggested it). I tried to remain inconspicuous through all of it. I’m not quite sure how inconspicuous an orange woman can be. And for those of you out there right now (including my daughter Rachael) saying, “Sheila, why wouldn’t you simply test the tanner on a small spot on your skin before applying all over (like most directions suggest)?” I say, “There are simply some things I’ll never learn.”
I boarded the plane and felt like it was forever before the magical “ding” was heard allowing me to “move about the cabin.” I was the first one to hit the bathroom, which always has the quaint feel of an outhouse. “Lovely,” I thought as I began to try out my arsenal of scrubs on my hands. Nothing was working.
Hours later, I arrived at my hotel destination. The only good thing I could think was that I had two days to return to my normal color. I darted to my room and headed straight for the bathroom. I peeled off my top to reveal my orange and white streaked body. It was worse than I imagined. I looked like a pumpkin in a snow storm. At this point, I finally confessed to my husband, Harry, in hopes that he would console me. Well, if you call hysterical laughter for several minutes consoling, I guess he did his job. I spent the next two days soaking in the tub and scrubbing. And I finally returned to my pasty white self just in time for my red carpet Golden Globes event.
This year’s plan? Bronzer!