Everything About Me Is Fake . . . And I'm Perfect (6 page)

BOOK: Everything About Me Is Fake . . . And I'm Perfect
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                Every woman needs her fair share of fabulous
and huge diamond stud earrings. If you can afford the real ones, call me so I
can borrow them. If not, buy quality fakes that look real. People will never
know in a million years that they’re crystal. They’ll just think you had a
great Christmas. Practice saying things like, “We woke up on Christmas morning
and my boyfriend handed me this box that said Harry Winston. Is he a keeper or
what?”

                Fur or no fur? Here’s the whole truth and
nothing but: I used to wear leopard back in the day. Did I feel bad because an
animal died? Yes, of course. I love animals. I’ve even worn cheetah. But heel,
you PETA members: it was a live cheetah, which I encountered at a Playboy
shoot. The cheetah was only supposed to brush up against my body—but he kept
getting frisky with me, and every time he did I’d break out into mountains of
hives. Why hold a grudge?

                I don’t own any fur now. I do like the look
of faux leopard or faux cheetah, though, especially since both animals are fast
and sleek. I just E V E R Y T H I N G A B O U T M E I S F A K E . . . A N D I ’
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                love the vintage look of fur. And, frankly,
I think it’s okay to wear old furs. What’s done is done, right?

               
For the Face

                I exfoliate every single day, but for some
people that’s just too harsh on the skin. See what works for you. I don’t
believe in those expensive scrubs that you buy over the counter, which are
often filled with enough perfume to turn your face purple. Try Quaker cornmeal
as an exfoliant for your face, knees, and elbows. It costs pennies, and one box
lasts forever. One must always wear fake eyelashes, at least in my world. But I
hate those strips of fake lashes that look like you just stepped out of some
bad 1970s horror flick. Personally, I swear by individual fake lashes, which
come in a little set with glue to place them in between your real lashes for
that oh-so-lush look. Now, it’s not hard to put them on, so don’t skip over
this part of the book. You can do it. I know you can! Fake lashes open up the
eyes as quickly as I open my legs. (Just making sure you’re paying attention!)

                Here’s how it’s done:

                1. Give yourself fifteen minutes to apply
them, so you don’t stress yourself out.

                2. Use a little eyelash comb to give your
real lashes a quick raking. 3. Look for the gaps in between your real lashes.
4. Using tweezers, dip the tip of the individual fake lash into the adhesive
cement and carefully, but firmly, place it in an open space.

                5. Adjust them with your finger or the
tweezers.

                6. If you mess up, just take a breath,
remove, and start again.

               

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                A quick word on the adhesives involved here:
I hate the rubbery-glue type and prefer the cement adhesive, which lasts
longer. If you’re really careful in the shower, those fakes can last for days.
Some advanced tips on lashes: A small strip of fake lashes looks great in the
outer corners of your eyes. Or you can put them in the center of your eyes to
make them appear bigger. Remember, with all makeup, less
Not happy with
brown hair? Try a perfectly fine red wig on for size . . . POW!

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                can be more. You are your own best judge of
what looks good on you. Be judgmental; hell, be brutal. The best place to check
out your face is in the rearview mirror of your car, where you can do it in the
most natural light. If you really don’t have time to do individual lashes, then
load up on mascara—even if you’re afraid people will think you went raccoon
wild or haven’t slept for a week. But just do the top lashes. Mascara on the bottom
has a tendency to melt off on your face in ugly rings. Keep everything up—just
like our boobies, we want to lift our eyes. Mascara can be especially dramatic
and beautiful when worn with no eyeliner, too. It’s a look I love.

                Now, a quick word on the so-called “natural
look.” There’s a big difference between natural with a little makeup (good),
and natural like you just got back from working the land. Opt for the first.
When I want to look natural, I put a little blush on my cheeks, fill in my
eyebrows, toss on two coats of mascara, and then slather on a little bit of lip
gloss. All of the above takes approximately twenty seconds.

                Let’s say you’re lacking in expensive
eyebrow gel with Bobbi Brown on the container. An old toothbrush and a little
hairspray will do the trick just as well.

                Eyebrows shouldn’t be too bushy. I tweeze
because I’m into the precision of my look—and besides, you can make mistakes
waxing. Afterward, I throw a little body gel on them to get rid of the sting.
Even if you’re dead tired, you also need to wash the makeup off your face each
night. My good friend Patti Hanson used to turn up for work in three-day-old
mascara. Sure, it eventually became a new look, but it came with a price: what
happens when you wear the same mascara for days is that eventually your
eyelashes become glued together and fall out. So in the interest of saving
those suckers, get out the washcloth at night and go to sleep with a fresh,
dewy face.

                Forget soap.

                And fuck Chanel. That skin stuff they sell
is overpriced and overperfumed. Just go to the supermarket, get a huge
container of plain nonfat yogurt, and lather up. Follow it up with some apple
cider vinegar—a 218

J A N I C E D I C K I N S O N

                great astringent. If pimples form (and they
will), pour some more of that apple cider vinegar into a bowl in the sink and
give your face a good splash. I’ve been doing it for years, and I have zero
pimple scars. If you have a volcano of a zit, don’t use your bacteria-hoarding
nails to pop it. Take a clean Q-Tip, dab it with fresh lemon juice, and rub it
on the zit for a few minutes. The lemon will suck out all the infection. Every
other night I do a facial. I love papaya enzyme exfoliants. You gotta take care
of your mug!

                It’s mandatory to get rid of all unwanted
facial hair. You know who you are, ladies! That means those little stragglers
on your chin near that mole. And while we’re on the topic, all underarm hair
must be gone. My ex, Simon Fields, always made me laugh on this one. Whenever
he got a glimpse of a woman with excess hair, he’d shudder and say, “Oh—the
land that time forgot.” Don’t you forget about it!

                As for facial hair on men—how cute is that
stuff? I love it when they grunge themselves up, the way Johnny Depp or Brad
Pitt do for the occasional film role or a change of seasons. Of course, women
don’t have that option. Ladies, I repeat: if you think about letting stray
hairs go, just think about this: Stephanie Seymour and Kate Moss do not
consider stubble a part of their beauty plans.

                What do I do? I’ve tried electrolysis, but
it just doesn’t work for me. So I’ve appointed myself to the hair police. I
look in my super 10X magnifying mirror to find stray hairs, and rip them out
with abandon. This brings me to sun damage and broken capillaries. Everyone has
them—all of the above—but you can’t just sit there in front of the magnifying
mirror crying, Woe is me! There are facials especially designed to get rid of
splotching, spotting, and melatonin blotching. I’ve decided to live my life
instead of sitting inside hiding my face. So I ski, and I go out in the sun,
and as a result my face takes a beating. I do my best and use sunblock because
you’ve got to be extremely disciplined about sun damage. Trust me—it’s an
investment in your future. But I never sun my face—ever! And you shouldn’t,
either. Instead, why not try some self-tanning lotion? I like Clarin’s; it
gives your face a

               

                E V E R Y T H I N G A B O U T M E I S F A K
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                natural-looking color without you ever
having to sit out in the sun, which is just a wrinklefest waiting to happen.
The skin comes first, baby: get rid of that winter pale and change your skin
color before you work on anything else, like the color of your hair. (And even before
you self-tan, remember to exfoliate first, so that you’re starting with a clean
slate.) Sometimes your skin may start looking red, and not at all because you
let it go to shit. Blotchy skin can be the sign of a bad diet or a medical
Once
upon a time in Mexico . . . John Dickinson, ladies.

               

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J A N I C E D I C K I N S O N

                problem, so check with your doctor or
dermatologist. Just one appointment can change it all. In the meantime, the
best thing possible for your skin is to slather Vitamin E, combined with pure
aloe vera, all over yourself, from head to toe. It’s a cheap and perfect plan
for most skin types.
J.D. in the house.

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For the Hair

                I met hair stylist Nick Chavez on the
streets of Paris when he was a hottiehot male model. I took one look at him and
said, “Hey, stud muffin! You busy tonight?” We ended up ripping through Paris
together at rapid speed, spreading my paycheck from a Gucci show at the most
expensive restaurants in the city.

                The debauchery reached quite a fever pitch.
One night we were drinking fine wine out of each other’s mouths. The next
morning, we were late for our meeting with Yves St. Laurent. (We’re still
really sorry!) The rest is history—except I should mention that Nick became a
hairdressing genius, with his own Beverly Hills salon and products on QVC. My
hair is in great shape thanks to him (and after all the coloring, highlighting,
and processing galore I’ve endured over the years, I’m lucky I have any left on
my head). Nick saved my hair by insisting I use an aloe gel he makes. You can
find generic versions almost anywhere: try them. Put it on, throw your hair up
into a ponytail, and leave it on all day long or sleep in it. It’s a miracle
therapy that will revive your luscious locks. (I also love Phyto 7 Hydrating
Cream: I rub it on my ends at night before I go to bed.) Speaking of hair, try
to avoid shampooing every single day. Go crazy and skip a day or two. In fact,
if you wait until after the weekend, you can go dancing on Saturday night and
shake the kind of sexy bed head all the hot models are rocking these days.
Remember: raunchy can be hot, too.
For the Mind

               
Meditate.
I’ve said it before: That’s
the stuff, for mind and body. Hold this idea in your head: I’m X years young
(not old). That’s how to look at it.
Don’t beat yourself up.
Worried
that you look horrible at the department store? Don’t be. Even the world’s
first supermodel looks awful in that unforgiving lighting!

BOOK: Everything About Me Is Fake . . . And I'm Perfect
8.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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