So...Monday morning rolls around and we are excited! It's set to be a VIP day of luxury and excitement. An easy morning, packing a lovely picnic and filling our new MP3 player with exciting songs for our journey. Then, at midday we set off, with all the hope and giddiness of a child going to the zoo for the first time! First stop was the outlet centre- Clarks Village. I was especially excited for this because, as it was Birthday week, I was fully prepared to snag some delightful bargains in the name of Birthday Treats! When we arrived, mizzle was falling. Mizzle is a word which here means 'miserable drizzle'. A phrase coined by my husband, which perfectly describes that feeling when you look out of the car window and desperately hope that you aren't the one who is designated pay and display sorter-outer. You know? Anyway, the Mizzle wasn't a positive start. Our first stop was Starbucks for a warming hot chocolate. It was gross. Ieuan thinks it's because I had gum in my mouth at the time (a habit which I should probably get out of), but I beg to differ. It was un-sugared and un-milked and had that bitter but authentic taste of Mayan cocoa-beans. You know? You know. So...that was that. In the end, Ieuan and I struck a deal. In order to finish our not-very-nice hot choc, for each gulp I had, he would be brave and have 3. Soon, the thick, almost black dregs were sludging around in the bottom of the mug and we left for, hopefully, a more refreshing experience in the shops. Dodging the cold mizzle, we darted into the shop we wanted to spend the most time in. Fatface. After about 5 minutes in fatface, I began to feel like that child who's at the zoo for the first time, who's travelled for ages to get there but, on arrival, discovers the African animals section is closed and she has to content herself with the rabbits and guinea pigs. You know??? Unfortunately, the magic sale fairy forgot to wave the wand over Fatface. Though things were cheaper than in the normal shop, they were not cheap enough for us. We left with our tails between our legs. Ever optimistic me was soon excited for the next shop....and the next shop....and the next shop....we saw odd bits in odd shops but never really anything that made one Oooh and Ahhh.
Things did eventually work out for us. I got a lovely skirt from M&S for £5, a pair of skinny jeans in GAP for £6.99 and a new coat from Next for £17. Bargains! Ieuan got a couple of lovely tops from Next too. Very manly indeed. So, we were satisfied (I was rather pleased) but, on the whole, not entirely as incredible as we've experienceD before at outlet malls.
Next was our journey to our complimentary makeover/photoshoot. We were running about 20 minutes late which wasn't a good start. When we arrived, we hurriedly filled in some forms, and then I was whisked over to make-up. On the form, I had said that I would like to achieve a look somewhere between natural and smokey. The makeup artist was a lovely lady and we talked about all sorts- including church!! (And before you say it, she brought it up, not me. Being married young makes people wonder whether you are religious....) During the makeup experience, I specified that I didn't want to look dramatic- just like normal. "I normally wear creams and browns and not too much of it. I wear a very light, gentle foundation too." "I'll put you in those same colours again then". Says she. Famous last words.
After shooting the breeze with this woman, she asks me if I am ready to see the new me. I am rather excited by this point! The chair goes up and....BAM!!! I felt like Fran from Asda. A man in drag. It's any wonder I could lift my eyes to the heavens to ask "why" this had happened to me...My eyes looked so heavy, I am surprise my eyelids didn't just refuse to open. "Do you like it?"
"Wow." Says I.
"YES!! My 4th WOW today!" Says she.
Of course, I didn't exactly mean "Wow! You've changed my life- I look incredible. Can I hire you to do my makeup every day" Wow. I meant "Wow. This is new. I look like a man." That kind of Wow. But I couldn't put my finger on what made me look so strange! I looked at the eye-shadow. Heavy, but lovely. The eye-liner was a bit heavier than normal but not so much. The foundation was a bit much and the lips....it was probably the lips. Waaaayyy too pink. I asked her to tone them down, which she did, but I still looked awful. In hindsight, I realise that the dark smudges she'd put under my bottom eye-lashes made me look like I was having withdrawals from something with questionable legality and the darkened eye-brows didn't do me any favours either. But, I didn't think of that at the time and so, I rolled with the punches, as it were. (Or at least, I certainly looked like I had been punched. It wasn't that bad....but seriously...) She explained to me that things had to be dark because of the lighting in the photos etc...So, who was I to argue!!
Then came the next blow. I had already done my hair before I came. My neat little curly bob was very curly and my fringe was straight. It could have been straighter, I suppose but my hair could not have been any curlier. Or so I thought. THEN, she whips out the curling wand. "I'm just going to put a couple of curls in the front like mine". At first, I thought she meant that she was going to give me some fantastic up-do with a couple of curls left in the front. Not so. She re-curled 2 already curly curls, which were now even shorter and, thus, made my hair bigger. Then, she crossed a line. She mussed my curls. In all my life, I have been wary of people touching my hair and this is why. On my head, my volatile little head, the mussed look doesn't work. Mussed look + Rache's hair= Frizz, frizz and more frizz. Thankfully, she stopped the mussing before too much damage was done. She called Ieuan in next and proceeded to work on his hair and give his face a moisturising and a powder. Then, we were ready!
We went down to the studio and had quite a nice time- some fun shots, some glamorous shots, some shots with a big fan!! It was fun and we enjoyed it. It was over quite quickly though and I felt like my makeover had taken much longer. Still, I was pretty jazzed about seeing our photos. We waited for about 20 minutes while they edited the prints (they said it would be 20 mins so after 10, I wasn't especially reassured- not when you take days!) They ushered us into a small room with a huge apple monitor. They darkened the lights and played some music and we watched the slideshow of the images. There were some really lovely ones and already I could feel the pressure to choose just one for our complimentary image. We were fixed in our minds with a determined resolution that we were only going to take our complimentary image. We even bought them a box of Milk Tray to soften the blow!! I'm serious! So as we were looking through the photos, there were some I loved and some I thought "My face is too chubby, I look like a man in drag and the lighting hasn't softened my eyebrows or my lipstick at all." So it was a mixed bag of goods really. But I was excited because we had some photos we loved. Then she sat us down and explained the pricing. £60 for a 5x7, £70 for a 6x9 and £80 for a 8x10. OR, £85 for one image on a disc, including all the copyrights to that image. OR £550 for the lot on a USB. We could definitely rule THAT one out. We decided that we would get one on a disc and pay the £25 on top of our complimentary £60 voucher. In the end, we couldn't choose between a photo of Ieuan and I in green jumpers cuddling, or a one of us lying on our fronts in our Rugby shirts. So, we decided we'd pay a bit extra and get 2 prints. We shook hands with the lady, paid our money and left.
It was only on the journey home as we talked that our optimism about the experience slowly morphed into a dramatic realism that made us realise what had happened and what we'd done. We'd given up our deposit towards a second print. That meant....*imagine a lightbulb slowly coming on*....that meant....we'd spent not £40 but.....£70. £70. Seventy Pounds. Seventy Pounds on a photo that, even though it contains our bodies, we do not have the copyright for and so it will always be a 7x5 that no one else will see unless they are acutally in our house. It will never be the canvas we hoped it would be for the bedroom wall. It will never, ever be anything but a tiny photo that cost us £70. Not only did that realisation hit us, but I also realised exactly who my madeover self reminded myself of...
THE HORROR!!!!
All my love,
Snafs
P.S. We SO didn't give them the Milk Tray. We partied up on that when we got home. It was a consolation gift to ourselves. =)
