The Joy of a Beauty Consultant

I am and always have been a low maintenance sorta gal, ’tis a fact, I can count on one hand the number of beauty treatments I’ve had done over the years. Seriously I’ve had one false tan done in my life, now the reason I never had another one done was, I was mortified, yes, or Morto as they say in these here parts. Not because I had to stand in a cubicle in a ‘Paper Thong’ no .. I was Morto because the young wan that was spraying reached over and had to lift up my boobs one by one and spray underneath. They’re as pert as they used to be,

I’ve had one manicure and two, yes not one but two pedicures, I’ve got tiny ugly feet so I thought I’d treat them. To be fair the young Eastern European girls did not recoil in horror at the sight of my ugly feet. They made small chat and decided that for a woman of my age my ‘feets was gud’ read that in a heavy Eastern European accent.

The truth is, a little sad to be honest, I’m one of those women you see wandering around beauty departments in large stores. I love the glamour of it. The glamour of the ‘beauty consultants’ and the confidence that makeup arms them with. It’s like a magic shield of foundation, lipstick and false eyelashes.

I have no such armour, I have work boots and work trousers in the hope that I’m invisible to all, disappear under the radar as it were.

So armed with in invisible work gear I wandered through the beauty dept of a very posh Dublin Department Store, normally unhindered by the ‘beauty consultants’ cause I’m invisible like, until last week, when I was pounced upon by a ‘beauty consultant’ armed with intent to spray some overpriced perfume designed by some celebrity at me..

‘Qui madam’

‘Huh’ sez I, she frightened the absolute bejasus out of me.

‘Qui madam’

‘Qui’ sez I

‘Qui’ sez she

I composed myself so I did. She’s no idea who she dealing with here, me, that’s who.

‘Qui Qui’ sez I grinning

‘Qui madam’ I expect it wasn’t the first time she’d heard that. If you’re Irish you’ll know what I’m talking about. Explication at end.

I was ragin I wasn’t the first to say it to her, pure ragin so I was.

‘Can I help you find something madam’

Well I was very impressed indeed, that she spotted I was a woman, the truth is I’m sometimes mistaken for a young (ish) man or a transvestite sometimes a butch awlwan, but shur she kept calling me madam so she knew underneath all the work gear that I was a woman nor was I invisible it seems.

‘A masque’ sez I in me telephone voice, for feck sake I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

‘Any particular kind’

‘One that’ll take twenty years off, I’d like to look thirty again’

‘Where would you like to look thirty again madam’

Oh I had options, I’d no idea one could use a masque anywhere other than ones face..

‘Is there a menu of masques’ I was doing that contrived posh thing I can do..

‘We have masques for anywhere on ones body, ‘

‘Arse’

‘Yes of course madam we have a selection’

They have a selection of arse masques, I love this shop.

I thoroughly enjoyed my chat with a very glamorous ‘beauty consultant’

The absolute joy of a beauty consultant..

Explication of Qui Qui or wee wee.. it’s an Irish phrase for having a pee..

I’m not at all sure why anyone would call a perfume Qui to be honest.. but I’m not a celebrity ..

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