Fifi was out of town. Far away from home going down the steps of Knightsbridge metro station in new knee high dark brown leather boots. The boots were just being broken into, worn with thick wool, a black dress and coat and a colorful cashmere scarf. It was cold as it always in in the corner of the world this time of year. She always wore a messenger bag when traveling, partly to keep her hands free and part to keep it attached to her body. Today's was patent gold to lighten up the dark ensemble. There was a lot of makeup on her face but it didn't show. She always used good, expensive makeup that didn't look like makeup. Her hair, freshly dyed, was still messy from the rain earlier.
The metro pulled in just as she got the the platform. She liked it like that, no wasted time in the stuffy underground. It was only a few stops to downtown. She was heading to the Marble Arch this afternoon. She'd planned to spend a few hours walking in and around the stores all the way to Piccadilly Circus. Fifi squeezed her way into a car. Sat down and stared ahead for the entire ride. She was careful not to make contact with her surroundings not really knowing way. As the train pulled up to her stop, she got out just as unnoticeably as she got in. The change in her wallet was weighing down her bag. That bothered her. She made a note to get rid of it. There were dozens in the street begging for it. She climbed out from the station, discreetly transferred the pence coins to her pocket so it'd be easier to disperse, and lit a cigarette. The smoke was fresh oxygen compared to the stuffiness of the metro. Fifi knew she wouldn't really be spending the afternoon walking and going in and out of stores. She had almost three hours to spare before being where she had to be. She'd spend the better part of those in one store. In one department. Doing one thing. She puffed her way to Selfridges, stopping only once for coffee. Well, she'd intended to get coffee but went for a raspberry tea.
Fifi put out her third cigarette in the almost empty tea cup and threw the whole mess away. Pushing the brass handles on the big glass doors, she went in and took her scarf off. She tied that removed scarf to the handle of her bag; another advantage of that style. Past the shoes, bags, sunglasses and various luxury goods that cost small fortunes, Fifi made her way to the other end of the massive store. Makeup.
She was home. Starting with the smaller labels because they were less crowded, Fifi began her ritual. She always started with the lips because it seemed most natural. Glosses first, then colors. She picked a very pale pink from Sisley because she knew it would not match her skin tone. Directly in front of the small, over lit magnifying mirrors, she applied a coat then two and stared at it for thirty seconds. She stuck the tip of her tongue out from the bottom right corner of her mouth and licked the gloss. It came right off. It wasn't cheap, but wasn't expensive enough not to come off. She licked the entire bottom lip off, then the top, all while standing very still in front of the small over lit magnifying mirror. She popped the tested back in its place and moved on. From Sisley to Laura Mercier to Chanel to Nars to Bobbi Brown. She licked pale pink, deep red, plum, sunset orange, electric orange glosses and colors. When her lips were all worn out and all the appealing testers tasted, she moved to eyes.
With eyes she always headed straight to Lancôme. No use wasting time. Eyeliners first. Fifi always used the deep charcoal colors because they were the most striking. She expertly made a thin swoosh over her left eye, coming out at the ends like Cleopatra. Using her pinkie, she quickly rubbed out the little bit outside the eyelid before it dried. Then she stuck her pinkie in her mouth. Just as carefully, she swooshed over her right eye with the liner, rubbed and licked. Mascara was more difficult. She couldn't lick it after applying. It got messy. Picking up a navy shade of the Doll Eyes line, she took a look around the store she had temporarily become oblivious to, and when no one was looking brought up the applicator to her tongue and took a quick lick.
Going back to the non-makeup licking world she glanced at her watch. It was time to start heading to Piccadilly Circus. She didn't like to be the one who was always late. Sometimes was okay, but not always.
As she pushed her way out through the same brass handles on the same glass doors, leaving the smell of leather and perfume behind, Fifi smiled. Everyday, she was slowly getting closer. She was showing that bitch who told her to eat makeup, so she can be pretty on the inside too, just how pretty on the inside she was. She'd licked her fair share of lipsticks to prove it.
The metro pulled in just as she got the the platform. She liked it like that, no wasted time in the stuffy underground. It was only a few stops to downtown. She was heading to the Marble Arch this afternoon. She'd planned to spend a few hours walking in and around the stores all the way to Piccadilly Circus. Fifi squeezed her way into a car. Sat down and stared ahead for the entire ride. She was careful not to make contact with her surroundings not really knowing way. As the train pulled up to her stop, she got out just as unnoticeably as she got in. The change in her wallet was weighing down her bag. That bothered her. She made a note to get rid of it. There were dozens in the street begging for it. She climbed out from the station, discreetly transferred the pence coins to her pocket so it'd be easier to disperse, and lit a cigarette. The smoke was fresh oxygen compared to the stuffiness of the metro. Fifi knew she wouldn't really be spending the afternoon walking and going in and out of stores. She had almost three hours to spare before being where she had to be. She'd spend the better part of those in one store. In one department. Doing one thing. She puffed her way to Selfridges, stopping only once for coffee. Well, she'd intended to get coffee but went for a raspberry tea.
Fifi put out her third cigarette in the almost empty tea cup and threw the whole mess away. Pushing the brass handles on the big glass doors, she went in and took her scarf off. She tied that removed scarf to the handle of her bag; another advantage of that style. Past the shoes, bags, sunglasses and various luxury goods that cost small fortunes, Fifi made her way to the other end of the massive store. Makeup.
She was home. Starting with the smaller labels because they were less crowded, Fifi began her ritual. She always started with the lips because it seemed most natural. Glosses first, then colors. She picked a very pale pink from Sisley because she knew it would not match her skin tone. Directly in front of the small, over lit magnifying mirrors, she applied a coat then two and stared at it for thirty seconds. She stuck the tip of her tongue out from the bottom right corner of her mouth and licked the gloss. It came right off. It wasn't cheap, but wasn't expensive enough not to come off. She licked the entire bottom lip off, then the top, all while standing very still in front of the small over lit magnifying mirror. She popped the tested back in its place and moved on. From Sisley to Laura Mercier to Chanel to Nars to Bobbi Brown. She licked pale pink, deep red, plum, sunset orange, electric orange glosses and colors. When her lips were all worn out and all the appealing testers tasted, she moved to eyes.
With eyes she always headed straight to Lancôme. No use wasting time. Eyeliners first. Fifi always used the deep charcoal colors because they were the most striking. She expertly made a thin swoosh over her left eye, coming out at the ends like Cleopatra. Using her pinkie, she quickly rubbed out the little bit outside the eyelid before it dried. Then she stuck her pinkie in her mouth. Just as carefully, she swooshed over her right eye with the liner, rubbed and licked. Mascara was more difficult. She couldn't lick it after applying. It got messy. Picking up a navy shade of the Doll Eyes line, she took a look around the store she had temporarily become oblivious to, and when no one was looking brought up the applicator to her tongue and took a quick lick.
Going back to the non-makeup licking world she glanced at her watch. It was time to start heading to Piccadilly Circus. She didn't like to be the one who was always late. Sometimes was okay, but not always.
As she pushed her way out through the same brass handles on the same glass doors, leaving the smell of leather and perfume behind, Fifi smiled. Everyday, she was slowly getting closer. She was showing that bitch who told her to eat makeup, so she can be pretty on the inside too, just how pretty on the inside she was. She'd licked her fair share of lipsticks to prove it.
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