I'm quite far behind on artist collaborations, so I'm doing some more catching up. Today we have British artist Morag Myerscough for Bobbi Brown, whose collection was released in the spring of 2020. It was a small collection consisting of an eyeshadow palette, highlighter and two lipsticks. I purchased one of the lipsticks and the two other items…and of course I can't seem to find the lipstick. (I'm really hoping to take a full week off of work this summer to properly re-organize the Museum's collection, as things keep going missing or take literally hours to locate. Sigh.)
Born and raised in London, Myerscough came from a family of artists. Her father was a highly sought-after session musician in the 1960s and '70s, while her mother was a textile artist. Myerscough was settled on an artistic career even before she was out of elementary school. After graduating from St. Martin's where she studied graphic design, Myerscough attended the Royal College of Art. In 1993 she established Studio Myerscough, and in 2010 Supergrouplondon, a collaborative studio with fellow artist and partner Luke Morgan, was born. You can read more about her professional background at Eye Magazine.
Myerscough's vibrant color combinations are influenced by her mother as well as several artists, including Josef Albers and '80s collective Memphis (remember them from my Hermès post?) She explains, "[My style of] colour could be from my mother, I think my colour sense comes from being very young and understanding the difference between a dye made from a natural source and one from an artificial source. When I make my big pieces of work I much prefer to paint them as I can get pure pigments and as they are used in spaces it is important how colour responds to light. There is nothing better than to see an amazing colour in the right environment, it can change your whole mood. I like to be brave with colour, at college I was introduced to Albers, and I was very interested in his theories on how colours respond to each other." She adds, "I really hate when people say that colour is exclusive to children, what sad people they must be. Adults need colour in their lives as much or maybe more than children. Colour is so abundant in nature and we need it more in our built environment." Hear hear!
In 2017 Myerscough designed the Artskickers stage for a beloved community hub in Dalton Garden. Over 200 events are held here each year.
Her color choices combined with the tidy, modern geometric patterns reflect both her graphic design background as well as the influence of artists such as Bridget Riley and Dan Flavin. Here are a couple examples so you can see the resemblance.
You know I adore big bold swathes of color, but it's Myerscough's dedication to community engagement and overall approach to art that speak to me the most. Adopting a Chinese proverb as her mantra, "make happy those who are near and those who are far will come," Myerscough aims to instill a sense of belonging among the people using the space she's been commissioned to reimagine. She believes art is a unifying concept that can bring people together and connect them to certain places. A beautiful example is the Burntwood School, where Myerscough designed many of the interior and exterior wall patterns. "I put a narrative in the building, we make places where people feel they belong. I like working collaboratively with architects…we have made some great steps in how schools are used and how the students connect with their schools. The team needs to want the same result and for the project to be successful this involves everybody. The students' grades have increased hugely, I believe this is because they have a building that works for them, that they can be proud of, with teachers that care about them and when you put all the parts together it produces success," she says. I wonder if my anxiety would have been mitigated if I had attended a school with this sort of art everywhere. Probably not, but it's at least nice to look at.
I also love the Vinyl Lounge, a mixed-used space that used to be an office owned by British music company EMI in the '70s. Myerscough carefully researched the history of the buildings to design something that paid homage to their past while accommodating modern needs. The furniture and other decor consisted of vintage eBay buys or made by Luke Morgan with reclaimed materials. The "lounge" itself served as a gathering place. In this way the space incorporates local heritage and engages the community. "I do focus on belonging. I want to find out from people what it means to them. Because it may mean different things to different ages, like for the older ones it might be family, while with young ones it might be friends. I also try to see what part of it makes you feel belonged; is it just your culture or is it about talking with each other? It does not matter that you do not come from the same place but can still belong together."
But I do have some mixed feelings towards other projects. While I admire Myerscough's approach and would be honored to be able to visit one of her works in person, at the same time I'd most likely want to punch it. Perhaps I'm too cynical not about public art in general, but Myerscough's optimistic outlook more specifically. It's a bit too cheerful and positive for my grumpy, pessimistic self, or at least, the text is. If I was confronted by Love At First Sight, for example, I'd roll my eyes and walk right on by. Ditto for the billboards painted in honor of the frontline NHS workers during the early part of the pandemic. It's a really nice thought, but calling them "heroes" is problematic, and frankly a mural comes off as much as an empty gesture as clapping did. Overall, I think her installations work better with no words, because there's no direction then and people can take whatever they want from it. Words create additional meaning and context, so without them there's more freedom of interpretation. However, I don't think Myerscough would be offended if she read this because at least I have some sort of reaction. We share the same belief that art should have some kind of impact on the viewer, whether it's bad or good. She says, "The main aim is that people aren’t indifferent to it. I want people to react. I totally understand some people might hate my work and I would rather have that than just dismiss it with indifference. I want people to have conversations; to experience something they didn’t expect. That’s why I love making work in public spaces, where people might stumble across a piece of work and have it change their thoughts for the day – ideally for the better." I agree that part of art's purpose is making one feel something and not nothing.
Anyway, I wholeheartedly applaud and respect the incredible work she's done for children's hospitals, but I fundamentally disagree with the notion of art in hospitals. The rooms at the Sheffield's Children's Hospital are very welcoming, and at the Royal London Children's Hospital, she used the children's own drawings part of the decor. "In hospitals I really do want to brighten people’s days, to raise their moods, to make them feel positive and hopeful. I want to make spaces that feel like home, which people enjoy being in. And ultimately to help people feel better…when I was commissioned by Vital Arts to design the five dining rooms at the Royal London Children’s hospital, I proposed to work with [poet Lemn Sissay] on the project. He did poetry workshops with the young patients and I ran visual workshops with the words. We then made murals by combining the words with the visuals, so the dining rooms belonged to the young patients – it was their ideas on the walls. I also displayed all the young patients’ original drawings in frames on the walls, so they and their parents could see it and it was clear the patients were at the centre of the artwork. It’s important that young patients and their families feel comfortable in these environments, because often they stay for long periods of time or return regularly as a child grows."
These are wonderful, innovative ideas and Myerscough's style is absolutely perfect for this type of project, but as someone who has spent far too much time in hospitals on account of ailing parents, I can tell you that absolutely zero amount or style of art is going to combat the dread and fear. Hospitals are for the very ill and dying, and despite some spotty evidence of the benefit of art in hospitals, I still think there's no artist in the world whose work can even come close to offsetting that type of negative energy. As both a patient and a visitor I'd honestly prefer it if art wasn't in hospitals and have them remain drab and depressing – it's far more appropriate for the space. Again, this is all just a matter of opinion. (And I certainly support art therapy where the patient creates art themselves.)
Getting back to the Bobbi Brown collab, I'm not sure how or why it came about. Nor do I know why she designed the patterns she did for the collection, or if she had an input on the makeup shades. I did reach out for an interview with the artist but didn't hear back. I will say I think her work translated well to the packaging, which can be tricky for artists who typically work on large-scale designs. But I'd love to hear Myerscough's thoughts on makeup colors, how makeup can help bring people together and why she took on the collaboration. She works primarily on big environmental graphics for community spaces and doesn't have a lot of commercial collabs – the only other thing with her work that you'd find in a store was a collection for Method cleaning products, and even that was part of the larger Sheffield hospital project – so I'm curious to know what attracted her to designing the packaging for a makeup collection. It's a bit inconsistent with Myerscough's usual commissions. Perhaps it's precisely how different it is that piqued her interest. In any case, the Bobbi Brown collection is not even mentioned on her website.
Thoughts on Myerscough's work? What does the makeup community mean to you? Do you feel as though you're part of it?
Late links as usual…I get so frustrated at not being able to stick to even the most basic of schedules. But as I'm demanding more of the Museum these days it's hard to keep up. 😉
– The Curator's favorite publication turned 30 this month, and I was so pleased to add a copy of their very first issue to the Museum's collection a while back. For some reason though they started celebrating back in February, but I'm including a link to their 30th anniversary content anyway.
-Beauty enthusiasts have been making this argument for ages, but it's always worth repeating.
– The U.S.'s ever-shrinking middle class is still buying beauty products, but their habits are different now. One word: masstige.
– On the one hand, it's good that this website is available for domestic violence victims; on the other hand, as with roofie-detecting nail polish, I feel like it shouldn't exist.
– I'm baffled as to why Hourglass's new vegan red lipstick getting so much buzz, considering that there's no shortage of vegan red lipsticks on the market. Obviously, not killing insects to make lipstick is a good thing, but I'm not sure what the breakthrough is here.
– Also not wowed by the removal of the word "normal" from Unilever's products. I understand shifting language is necessary for social change, but "normal" when referring to skin type isn't really offensive or exclusionary despite the company's market research. ("Normal" hair type and body weight…now those are different stories.) Thank goodness for r/skincareaddiction telling it like it is.
How did March treat you? Generally speaking I hate it so I was glad to see it go. Here's to longer days and warm weather!
Links for a busy February.
– It was Black History month, so that means major companies (Ulta, Sephora and Nordstrom, among others) are rolling out new diversity and inclusion initiatives. Time will tell whether they're in earnest or just crossing some items off their lists for Black History month.
– Another reminder for me to update my post on faux freckles.
– This new book about the history of men's facial hair and grooming is on my wishlist.
– I had lots of new Museum acquisitions for the various celebrations in February, so here are some Instagram highlights.
Lunar New Year picks:
Mary Quant crayons in honor of her birthday:
Valentine's Day picks:
Twiggy lashes for National Lash Day:
The random:
– It was '90s week at Jezebel so you know I was all over that. My favorite article involved the mystery of the oversized yet flattering suits worn by X-Files' Dana Scully.
I was compiling trivia focused on the topic of makeup-fashion collabs to put on Instagram a little while ago, and as with artist collabs, I quickly saw just how few were with Black designers. Even worse is that I realized the Museum was missing one of the two official collabs with Black designers there have been (which, again, like artist collabs is unacceptable and needs to change.) Estée Lauder teamed up with Nigerian-born, London-based designer Duro Olowu in the summer 2019, which coincided with the tremendous grief I was experiencing as a result of my dad's stroke earlier that year and the loss of my parents' home that August. Needless to say the collection slipped by my radar. Fortunately I was able to track down 2 of the 4 pieces and I hope I find the rest eventually.
The collection consisted of two palettes (one for more casual daytime wear and the other for evening), and two lipsticks in neutral and red shades. Two makeup looks were modeled by Anok Yai, a Cairo-born model of Sudanese descent. She became the face of Estée Lauder in 2018 and is, in her own words, "obsessed with makeup".
The packaging borrows prints from Olowu's fall 2016 and 2017 collections. Anok also modeled a dress made by Olowu for the collab.
According to Essence, Olowu had always been a fan of Estée Lauder and was thrilled when they approached him to collaborate. Originally he was responsible only for the packaging, but that quickly shifted to choosing the makeup shades as well. Olowu wanted to create something for everyone. "If you’re a man, you really can’t quite imagine what it takes to decide on the right shade for your skin, especially in this world we live in with women of different ages, ethnicities and skin shades. I really thought long and hard about that and tried to bring that into the mix. It was a really great learning experience for me," he says. Olowu infused the collection with his signature ability to harmonize seemingly disparate themes. "My aesthetic is about mixing things that wouldn't normally be mixed together," he told British Vogue. "The idea is that the woman who wears this makeup looks like herself, but also who she wants to be. She's worldly, cosmopolitan and international. The collection is representative of all types of beauty – it's a global approach. That's what we wanted to create."
So who is Duro Olowu? Born in Lagos to a Jamaican mother and Nigerian father who had met and lived in England previously, Olowu was used to spending the summers there to see his mother's family and visiting Geneva for his father's business trips. Olowu attended school in England as a teenager and earned a law degree from the University of Kent at Canterbury before making the switch to fashion design. With this background, it's no wonder a he arrived at his trademark cosmopolitan aesthetic. The designer explains: "I would spend my time browsing in the Kings Road, Kensington Market and Hyper Hyper and going to clubs like the Wag, the Mud Club and warehouse parties. I managed to do very creative things in an important period of style and music in London, and I wanted to experience all the aspects of that time. From New Romantics to Leigh Bowery, punk and reggae, all mixed in. I read up on fashion from Vionnet and Saint Laurent to Fiorucci and knew all about that…I was particularly inspired by certain designers when I was young. Yves Saint Laurent, Stephen Burrows, Azzedine Alaïa, Madame Grès, and Walter Albini and Issey Miyake. My mother wore Rive Gauche when I was growing up, often mixing it with pieces of traditional Nigerian clothing and other pieces picked up on holidays abroad. I felt that these designers bought so many very different elements of culture and style into the realm of their work. The beauty of women was very inspiring to me, as were my parents, who loved clothes."
In 2004 Olowu launched his own label with a single dress that mixed pieces of vintage couture fabrics and new ones with his own prints on a loose-fitting, Empire-waisted silhouette. The "Duro dress," as it came to be known, was an instant hit among both fashionistas and critics and put Olowu on the international fashion map. Soon the designer was dressing the likes of powerful women such as Michelle Obama. "I'm just amazed by how women can do so much regardless of natural or imposed obstacles, and I feel that it's my duty to make sure they look good and feel comfortable doing it…whether I'm initially inspired by Eileen Gray, Miriam Makeba, Pauline Black, or Amrita Sher-Gil, I always end up designing for women of all ages and ethnicities, women whose way of life and work I respect. Then I hope that the clothes I've come to, with them as inspiration, would be of interest to them…I want to make women feel confident in an effortless way," he says.
Says fashion writer Chioma Nnadi, Olowu's art history knowledge is "astonishing", and it informs his designs along with his personal background. "My prints are inspired by my Nigerian, Jamaican, and British backgrounds, as well as my love of art. Over the years, I have developed a curatorial and enthusiastic knowledge of historic and contemporary fabrics and textiles from all over the world. The mixing and draping of printed fabrics and textiles is something I have been exposed to all my life in the places I have lived or on my travels. It has been a signature of my womenswear collections from the very beginning and remains an integral part of my work. Fabrics always tell a story, and, when mixed well, exude the kind of joie de vivre and allure I am constantly inspired by…The color palettes of my prints are often by inspired art and artists, including Lynette Yiadom-Boakye, Henri Matisse, Alma Thomas, Robert Rauschenberg, Alice Neel, Chris Ofili, Édouard Vuillard, El Anatsui, Lee Krasner and Toyin Ojih Odutola." I can absolutely see these influences in his color schemes, but what's even more impressive is how Olowu imbues his collections with the spirits of his current muses without directly referencing them and creates a whole new aesthetic in the process. For example, for his spring 2020 collection he was inspired by photographer Beth Lesser's images of Jamaican dancehalls in the '80s as well as sketches by Picasso's lover Francoise Gilot. As Nnadi points out, the former can be seen in the wide leg pants and some of the dresses' ruffled hems, while Gilot's are embodied by the drapey, flowing silhouettes and softer floral prints. I'm blown away by how Olowu combines and reinterprets the vibes of these two totally different bodies of work while also adding his own style to the mix.
While his clothing is wonderful, it's Olowu's curatorial experience I find most extraordinary. In 2008 Olowu married Thelma Golden, Director and Chief Curator at the Studio Museum in Harlem, which further intensified his appreciation of art across all mediums. He curated his first exhibition in 2012 at New York's Salon 94 Freemans, followed by two more in 2014 and 2016. All were so well-received by the public and critics alike that the exhibition catalogs had to be reprinted after repeatedly selling out. Olowu's most recent exhibition, Seeing Chicago, at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago (MCA) is one of the most innovative and unique curatorial endeavors I have ever laid eyes on. Comprised of 367 (!) works from all different eras ranging from painting and photography to crafts and books, the pieces are arranged salon-style to enhance the dialogue between them. Olowu's love for Chicago grew out of his long-term partnership with the boutique Ikram. "I first came here because I've been working with Ikram, a fantastic store, for about 16 years…I was just amazed at the unique nature of the Chicago mindset. They're not followers; they do their own thing, and they're very proud of what is within their city, without showing off. And in that way I felt that sometimes you overlook actually what is there and how amazing it is." From there he gathered objects he felt best represented the diversity and character of the city. "I wanted to show old school, curious collecting from the '60s, '70s, and '80s, along with community and philanthropic collecting, in a forward-thinking way," Olowu tells CR Fashion Book. "It was intuitive how it came together—the variety of having Matisse, Louise Bourgeois, and Glenn Ligon in the same space with Rashid Johnson, Martin Puryear, and Lorna Simpson. I did not purposefully seek any of the art—the artwork itself called me." I love the idea of art or objects "calling" – it happens to me when organizing the Museum's exhibitions, although sometimes I'm driven by certain words or phrases that just keep sticking in my head.
Instead of arranging artwork into neat categories, Olowu takes an unexpected and refreshing approach that still makes sense thematically. Explains MCA (soon to be Guggenheim) curator Naomi Beckwith, "I don't think we realize that when we go to museums, oftentimes the work that we see in one specific gallery or in one show is usually like for like. That is to say that all the works in African sculpture are in the African galleries. All the works by French painters of the late 19th century are in another gallery by themselves. All the pottery from Asia is either in the Asian gallery or in the decorative arts gallery. We began to separate things out in ways that feel logical, but what it doesn't often allow is for things across cultures to speak to each other, or things across time periods to live with each other. Duro kind of ignored those basic art historical claims and just asked us to realize the affinities that art may have, across the country, across the world, across time."
The colors of the walls and pedestals reflect the color palette used by Amanda Williams in her iconic Color(ed) Theory series, in which she painted structures slated for demolition in Chicago's Englewood neighborhood and named each to represent an aspect of Black consumer culture. By using these colors for the exhibition decor, Olowu connects the objects both to each other and to Chicago's history.
"Both as a fashion designer and as a curator, [Duro is] interested in bringing cultures and cultural objects together in an exchange and in a conversation that allows things to speak to each other in an equal plain, without hierarchy, without a sense that one thing is superior to another, or better than another, or that one culture, one geography, one place or one history should supersede another," continues Beckwith. "And really the question for his practice is, how do we allow all this to live together, in a kind of egalitarian beauty? And you'll see that happening in the exhibition." This is a far less elitist approach to curation that we typically don't see in major art museums. Underscoring this more democratic methodology was the display of outsider art alongside canonical names like Kerry James Marshall and Jean Arp. "He’s not making big distinctions between self-taught and academically trained artists. He’s looking at furniture as much as sculpture, at craft as much as painting. We're at a moment in art history when we're seeing deep dissatisfaction with the standard narratives," notes Beckwith.
The last room presents a group of mannequins observing the art, meant as stand-ins of fellow museum visitors. While they're dressed in Olowu's designs, they're intended to emphasize his community-minded approach towards art and curation. "They are looking at the art, and at you…there is a relationship between the eye and the heart, outside of genres and contexts. One of the joys of art is that it can bring people together—through diversity and unification, all divisions are gone," he says.
In short, Duro Olowu was meant to be a curator, more so than a fashion designer, and I hope he pursues curation full-time. I love his clothes, but I find his exhibitions even more inspiring. My spirits are also buoyed up by the fact that his shows have been generally well-received without him having any formal curatorial training. I would dearly love to have him curate an exhibition for the Museum, although since he doesn't consider fashion to be art, he probably wouldn't consider makeup worthy of curation either. Plus, his style may be very difficult to translate to cosmetics. As Jessica Baran points out in Art Forum, Olowu's aesthetic can veer into commercial territory. "[At] its worst the display method mirrored the style of luxe domestic decor and retail store design (in fact, Olowu’s first curatorial endeavors were seen as extensions of his London boutique, which is organized similarly). Full of surface seductions 'Duro Olowu: Seeing Chicago' masked with its immersive pleasure its myriad contradictions, many of which are mirrored by fashion itself: a global industry blinkered by its own excesses, situated somewhere between haute merch and popular necessity, expressive art and practical consumability." You know I despise any museums in which makeup is presented as something to buy rather than appreciate – it's something I've been even more mindful of since I interviewed an exhibition designer so many years ago – but I think I could channel Olowu's vision and put together a broadly focused show in his style that celebrates the diversity of makeup and its history without it seeming like retail. The ideas are flying fast and furious now so I better go so I can jot them down. 😉
What do you think of the Estée Lauder collection and Olowu's fashion/curation?
While hunting for vintage Christmas makeup a few months ago I stumbled across a brand from the 1960s called Holiday Magic. This won't be a complete history either of the brand or the man who founded it, but it's one of the most compelling (for all the wrong reasons). Buckle up because you're in for a truly wild ride!
In 1964, a California salesman by the name of William Penn Patrick (b. March 31, 1930; d. June 9, 1973) noticed a neighbor having a garage sale of organic fruit-based cosmetics called Zolene. Sensing a new business opportunity, Patrick bought the entire stock for $16,250 (or about $137,000 today). Re-branded as Holiday Magic, Patrick proceeded to start selling them as a multi-level marketing business (MLM). Now, MLMs for cosmetics and other goods had been around for many years prior to Holiday Magic, such as Avon, Mary Kay, Watkins, Fuller Brush, etc. While their ethics are murky – on the one hand it gave people jobs and products that they otherwise wouldn't have access to, on the other they require fairly unsavory tactics – they are not technically against the law. But Holiday Magic wasn't just your average MLM: it was possibly the biggest pyramid scheme prior to Bernie Madoff.
Within a year of its launch, Holiday Magic had made Patrick a millionaire, and by 1967, the company was allegedly earning $6 million per month. The makeup products were quite average – nothing appears to be innovative about them. There was the standard eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, brow pencil, lipstick and blush. I would have had my own photos but I have no idea what happened to the objects I purchased from eBay, which sadly has become the norm these days. (It looks like tracking information was prepared but the package never was actually mailed. I've contacted the seller numerous times and have yet to receive a reply, let alone a refund. I guess William Penn Patrick is still working through others to scam customers from beyond the grave.)
While the makeup itself wasn't all that groundbreaking, the fruit-based skincare was fairly ahead of its time. The two women who founded Zolene, Helene Fly and Zoe Swanagon (hence the company's moniker, a combo of their first names), were committed to using fresh ingredients without preservatives, and did a lot of research on skincare recipes that had been circulating quite literally for centuries. They were even writing a cosmetics history book!
A lot of their products remind me of LUSH or 100% Pure's offerings. And I really wish I could find them, I love the Mid-Century Modern star packaging. Anyway, Zolene continued to supply Holiday Magic with its concoctions until 1967 when the founders became aware of Holiday Magic's business practices. But the company's lack of innovative makeup did not deter it from making a fortune for Patrick. In pyramid schemes, profit is not made by selling products but rather recruiting more salespeople – the products themselves have nothing to do with how the money is made, so it doesn't matter if they're any good. According to The Snapping Point, a website about business scams, the four characteristics that separate pyramid schemes from MLMs are:
the only way for consultants to make a profit is to recruit other consultants.
consultants are required to ‘inventory load’, or constantly inventory to profit.
consultants are operating in a ‘saturated market’, or a market where there are more sellers than buyers.
consultants are required to sell products for a fixed price (‘price-fixing’).
This book explains it in more detail. Basically, the only way for sales reps to make money was not by selling products but through essentially "buying" more sales people, convincing them to make an "investment" in the company. Unlike regular MLMs, where by the majority of product purchased by sales reps is actually sold to customers, in pyramid schemes most of the product does not reach them. In Holiday Magic's case, in 1967 it was estimated that 55% of their product was not distributed to customers, with sales reps having entire garages full of makeup. In 1973, an FTC attorney stated that he could find no evidence of products being sold directly to customers, only to "master" and "general" distributors, while the former president of Holiday Magic, Benjamin Gay, testified that less than 10% of products sold to distributors ever reached customers. "There could be sawdust in those jars. The cosmetics were there as a front," he said. The way in which Holiday Magic's hierarchy was arranged, Holiday "girls" could invest $18.91, "organizers" $109.71 to $501, "master" distributors $4,500 (plus a $250 training fee that was never mentioned until the investor signed the contract), and "general" distributors $8,750, plus training fees.
In addition, Patrick was known for other aggressive, highly immoral practices that went beyond pyramid selling. While Holiday Magic did not officially go bankrupt until 1974, as early as 1967 the company was charged by the California State Attorney General's office for "false and misleading advertising" in which the ads claimed distributors could make roughly $2200 a month (or $18,600 nowadays) working full-time. In retaliation, he took out full page newspaper ads attacking the state attorney general. Basically, any time the company faced a legitimate lawsuit, Patrick would double down and countersue, claiming that his constitutional rights were being violated. But the coup de grace was Leadership Dynamics, a "training institute" for Holiday Magic representatives established by Patrick and then-company president Gay in 1967. Sales agents were not required but "encouraged" to take a training course for a mere $1,000, while those higher up on the pyramid were required to take courses there. However, Leadership Dynamics was not so much training as it was torture; according to a 1972 exposé entitled The Pit, among the many cult-like techniques used to humiliate and brainwash sales reps were severe beatings, being locked naked in cages or tied to a cross, forced to sleep in coffins and, of course, racial slurs hurled at the Black attendees. I'm not sure how much of the book is true, but several newspaper articles as well as an article in Newsweek detail the abuse and numerous lawsuits brought about by attendees who supposedly sustained serious injuries.
The exceedingly punchable face of William Penn Patrick.
Patrick also dabbled in politics, running against Ronald Reagan in California's 1966 gubernatorial race as an "ultra-conservative Republican" with the slogan "Stop the Commies at Cal". Gee, color me shocked that a money-hungry narcissist was the complete opposite of liberal. His political views are not surprising; many rich white mediocre men truly believe the conservative myth that success is due to hard work (bootstraps!) and brilliance, rather than their own privilege, dumb luck or directly screwing over other people. Indeed, as one former Holiday Magic employee reminisced in 2016, "The whole organization (or lack of) was absolutely bizzare [sic], run by a bunch of frat boys with not a business degree among them. But they had a Phd in pyramid schemes." A couple of other tidbits:
In 1967, as president of the "Victory in Vietnam Committee" he attempted to run a recall campaign against an Idaho Democratic Senator, because you know when Democrats win an election it's because they stole the race (insert eyeroll here). When the AFL-CIO organized a boycott of Holiday Magic, Patrick promptly sued them.
His wife, Marie, was going to be a doctor but abandoned her plans shortly after marrying him to work as a teacher, largely to support them both after Patrick's string of failed businesses. Once Holiday Magic achieved success, she began attending meetings with Patrick because "otherwise, I'd never see him".
On September 24, 1972, one of Patrick's vintage planes, an F86 Sabre piloted by the general manager of Spectrum Air (another company owned by Patrick) crashed into an ice cream parlor shortly after takeoff. The pilot escaped with a few broken bones and scratches, while 22 on the ground died, including 10 children. Patrick wasn't directly responsible, but the fact that he allowed it to be flown speaks volumes about his complete disregard for others.
On June 9, 1973, Patrick died in a crash while performing stunts on another one of his vintage jets, a WWII plane called a P51 Mustang that, again, any regular citizen should not have had a license to own, let alone fly. He also managed to kill a colleague who was in the plane with him, a 30 year-old director of Holiday Magic in Finland named Christian George Hagert. SMDH.
A few months after his death and a spate of lawsuits in multiple states, as well as a $5 million suit from Avon, Holiday Magic's new president, along with Patrick's widow, announced that the line would be sold "along conventional marketing lines" and get rid of the pyramid aspect of their sales. They also promised a "fair" method of reimbursing roughly 3,000 of the Holiday Magic distributors in California who had been swindled. The SEC's ruling earlier that year claimed that 80,000 individuals had been bilked out of $250 million, so it's not clear what happened to the other 77,000 people who were ripped off. In May 1974 there was a class action settlement of over 31,000 members that established a trust fund of approximately $2.6 million, but that's pennies compared to the actual amount investors lost. Even in 1980 people were still writing to their local paper about the various lawsuits that had been filed and whether they'd get their money back.
But the big issue I wanted to highlight in this sordid tale is the fact that Holiday Magic seemed to have actively sought out Black communities in the U.S. to recruit distributors. While some other MLMs such as Avon, Fuller and Watkins targeted Black sales reps and customers, in their cases it seemed to be more a matter of expanding their market reach and at least supplying steady jobs rather than overtly preying on marginalized people. (Stay tuned for more about Black people's roles in various MLM cosmetic companies.)
I really wish I could find some numbers to further support my theory, but it appears the scheme disproportionately affected Black and other POC investors. "The real tragedy is that Holiday Magic appeals to minority people who want to get rich," remarked SEC staff lawyer Louis F. Burke. Patrick bragged in 1968 that 2 of his top 6 distributors in the U.S. were Black, but even if that were true, it's not necessarily a good thing. As a former distributor noted, Holiday Magic's setup was "like being thrown into a dark pit. The only way you can get out is to drag another person into the pit and step on his shoulders." For the most part, Black customers would only be further disenfranchised if they bought into Holiday Magic. As if that's not bad enough, the company didn't even attempt to formulate any products for deep skin tones. As one wise Black would-be Holiday Magic salesman pointed out in 1975, the line was intended for white people: "Holiday Magic packaged cosmetics for fair-skinned people. Now why in the world would I want to sell light lipstick to Black women?" At least Avon tried to come up with products that would be suitable for Black customers.
(images from ebay)
In the UK, it's estimated that the West Indian community lost £33 million in the early 1970s, and 26 people committed suicide after losing everything. These figures are somewhat corroborated by a British publication called Grassroots, which in 1974 reported that Holiday Magic targeted "almost exclusively West Indian and Asian communities" in the Midlands region. It's incredibly heartbreaking considering that people were taking out second mortgages on their homes to sink £1,000 into becoming a Holiday Magic distributor, only to end up paying at least double that in the long run and ending up far worse off financially than they were before. Note: I know nothing about this Grassroots publication and have no idea how reliable it is, but I don't think their claims are completely baseless.
It was obvious early on that Patrick was going beyond an MLM and into pyramid scheme territory along with the other illegal sales tactics, yet Holiday Magic was being advertised nationally in well-known publications as late as 1969, and still being sold in pyramid form through 1973. (A new Holiday Magic line with a less deceptive sales model was sold through the mid-'80s.) Perhaps it was a combination of systemic racism and his unbridled wealth that Patrick's sham wasn't stopped before it did so much damage. Maybe if he targeted only wealthy white people he would have been shut down sooner? Then again, Madoff did just that for about the same amount of time.
Anyway, despite what the show's creators say, I think the short-lived TV series On Becoming a God in Central Florida was based mostly on Holiday Magic – even more so than Amway. Everything, from the cult-like behavior and "motivational" mantras spewed by Patrick to the garages full of product and targeting of BIPOC communities has an uncanny resemblance to Holiday Magic.
– In accessibility news, here are some new makeup brushes designed for people with vision and motor impairments.
– You know I'm obsessed with vintage makeup ads and can spend hours dissecting the harmful messages they embodied, so I'm loving these reimagined ones featuring diverse models.
– Vogue has an ode to a '90s cosmetics staple. Can you believe I didn't own a Caboodles? If I recall correctly it's because even when I was a teenager I hoarded collected makeup and I knew it wouldn't all fit.
– It was Christian Dior's birthday on January 21, so to celebrate I took a picture of nearly all the Museum's 5-Couleurs eyeshadow palettes. Of course I managed to forget one. Oh well. They still look pretty. 🙂
The random:
– In '90s nostalgia, Silence of the Lambs turned 30, and for some reason one hit wonders New Radicals performed, well, their one hit at the inauguration.
– At least this made me laugh. The resemblance is uncanny!
How was the first month of 2021 for you?
Makeup Museum (MM) Musings is a series that examines a broad range of museum topics as they relate to the preservation, research and exhibition of cosmetics, along with my vision for a physical Makeup Museum. These posts help me think through how I'd run things if the Museum occupied a physical public space, as well as examine the ways it's currently functioning. I also hope that these posts make everyone see that just because the Makeup Museum does not have a physical space or official nonprofit designation, it is as valid as other museums, and more legitimate than many other profit-driven entities calling themselves "museums".
Let me just say up front that the timing of this post has nothing to do with the Capitol insurrection that took place a few weeks ago, or the fact that Black History Month starts in two days. This is something that's been in the works for over a year, as it's extremely important to the Museum's mission and to me personally. After giving myself a crash course in diversity and inclusion, I feel as though I'm finally ready to write something a little more in-depth than the thoughts I jotted down back in June 2020. One of the Museum's primary goals is to present makeup and its history differently than what currently exists, and a big part of that is sharing previously undiscovered or underrepresented stories. So many of them concern BIPOC and LGBTQ+ histories, and it's important to tell them not just for diversity's sake but for history more generally.
This post will not go into detail regarding the obvious facts that 1. Despite good intentions, all museums are rooted in colonialism; 2. U.S. museums have a critical diversityproblem; and 3. Diverse and inclusive museums are better in every way than non-inclusive spaces. Instead, it seeks to answer the following question: How can the Makeup Museum, in its current state, be as diverse and inclusive as possible? I don't have all the answers, but MM Musings are an exercise to think through the heavier issues and ponder how the Museum can be better – more of a journey than an endpoint. To help guide this installment of MM Musings I relied on these two books, along with the anti-racism books I purchased last year. I also looked at all the articles and other resourcesI could access for free online.
As I noted previously, there are unique challenges for a cosmetics museum to become a diverse and inclusive space. But that doesn't mean there's not room for improvement. If the Museum occupied a physical space and had paid employees (well-paid and with full benefits, of course, and while I hope they would not have a need for a union, they would absolutely be encouraged to form one if they want), it would no doubt have a diverse boardand staff at all levels that would be treated as integral to the organization and not tokens, along with the other essentials such as diversity training for docents and consultants to continually evaluate the Museum's efforts and provide recommendations. In its current form, however, the primary focus in terms of diversity and inclusion is on the Museum's content and collection. Since there are no blueprints as to how to run an online cosmetics museum/blog whose existence and finances depend entirely on one person who is also not technically a museum professional, it's tricky to come up with a concrete plan of action for diversity and inclusion. But here's a start.
Diversify the collection.
Collecting Chinese, Japanese and Korean brands are not an issue, nor are ones founded or owned by LGBTQ+ people – there are plenty of those as well as artist/fashion collaborations – but Latinx and Indigenous brands and collabs remain somewhat elusive. I can write about my beloved Pai Pai but they no longer ship to the U.S., and I know of only a handful of other Latinx or Indigenous-owned brands. Contemporary Black-owned brands are easier to find than ever now so I will continue purchasing more from them, but it's still difficult to find many vintage pieces simply because there were so few compared to the big mainstream brands, none of which catered to BIPOC's needs until the 1960s or so (and even then their efforts continued to miss the mark.) I will continue to keep my eyes peeled and buy from BIPOC and LGBTQ+ brands as much as possible.
Diversify blog, IG and exhibition content.
The Museum's collection may not be diverse enough right now, but that doesn't mean I can't write about objects or other pieces of makeup history related to BIPOC and LGBTQ+ communities, along with topics centered on ageism within the industry and people with disabilities. There are so many that are either have not been fully explored or not mentioned at all. One stumbling block remains: namely, I'm still not sure they're stories appropriate for a white, able-bodied, cis-het woman to tell. This is particularly important when discussing makeup used by Indigenous people, as in some cases it has a spiritual or religious purpose rather than beautification or self-expression. I'm afraid I don't have a solution other than to forge ahead and write about topics that may not be 100% appropriate but that are important. I think as long as I'm treating them in a sensitive manner and open to feedback and constructive criticism, it's better to share these histories even if they're from a non-BIPOC/LGBTQ+ person. One thing I eventually learned last summer was that being totally silent and not even attempting to diversify content is worse than trying and getting it wrong. I only hope I don't inflict any harm, but if I do, then I can always remove the post and do better the next time.
Search for more BIPOC and LGBTQ+ artists and brands to feature on Instagram and in Color Connections.
Exhibitions: How are BIPOC and LGBTQ+ represented in exhibitions? If they're not adequately represented, why? The solutions to this would normally be to have an exhibition that thoroughly incorporates diverse objects and voices, or have one focused on BIPOC and LGBTQ+ themes and ensure appropriate curation and oversight, e.g. not hiring someone who doesn't belong to those groups or has little to no knowledge about the topic at hand. This is a hurdle for the Makeup Museum as the founder and sole curator is not from an underrepresented group. The only thing I can do at the moment is choose exhibition topics in which marginalized people have adequate representation and make sure they see themselves in the exhibitions. It must be obvious that they're not niche visitors and that they are essential to the story the exhibition is telling. Theoretically I could explore whether anyone would be interested in co-curating or guest curating an exhibition focused on BIPOC or LGBTQ+, but as the Museum is entirely a labor of love and I'm unable to provide compensation, I'm sure as hell not asking someone from a marginalized group to curate or write for free. That brings me to my next point.
Identify fees for guest writers, curators and consultants and see if they are feasible without drastically cutting the budget for new acquisitions.
Like most of the initiatives I would love to pursue such as overhauling the website ($10-20k), purchasing archival storage containers ($1-2k), establishing a nonprofit (about $2-4k), getting a degree in museum or curatorial studies ($50k minimum) and purchasing and maintaining proper collections management software ($2k per year), I fear I would never be able to afford to hire professionals to work on the Museum with me even if I never bought another object, but it can't hurt to at least ask what their fees are. And who knows, perhaps I could even work out a plan whereby payments are due in installments rather than the full sum up front.
Further develop a community-focused, collaborative mindset.
Since its inception the Museum has operated in a mostly isolated environment. I'm not only a hardcore introvert and lifelong loner, but I always wanted to have my own space, something that I had full control over and without the involvement of anyone else. And that impulse is still quite strong. But I've also always wanted to educate, and though I'm not comfortable with it, being a resource means inviting people to help create it: by the public, for the public. Community for the Museum largely means either makeup aficionados/professionals or the local geographic area. I've always asked blog visitors to respond to my posts, and starting with the Stila girls exhibition in 2019, I began asking visitors to submit memories, photos or anything else they'd like to share to be incorporated into the exhibition. Lately I started investigating how the Museum might be able to collaborate with local museums, schools and historical centers – obviously I've considered pitching a pop-up exhibition at their spaces for over a decade now, but I realized I have to be more mindful of the approach. There's no way an organization is going to agree to host or be involved with an outside museum offering a pop-up exhibition if it has nothing to do with their mission or at least their collections. The goal, it seems, is to match interests. For example, the Maryland Center for History and Culture would be more interested in an exhibition on a history of Baltimore beauty parlors than, say, a display of rose-themed makeup, because their mission and collection have nothing to do with botany or natural history but is focused on the state of MD. I think there are ways in which the Museum can engage with both the makeup and local communities, and become more diverse and inclusive in doing so.
Establish metrics for the Museum's collection and content and share them publicly.
To keep any organization accountable in their diversity and inclusion efforts, it's necessary to track measurable outcomes of said efforts. Museums and Race's report card gave me the idea to develop one for the Museum based on the steps listed above. It would be updated annually each January and indicate the progress or maintenance of goals, which are as follows:
Increase the number of posts that focus on or incorporate BIPOC and LGBTQ+ makeup and related topics (for example, the "multicultural" makeup of the '90s). Originally I wanted to follow U.S. demographics and keep a strict 60/40 split in which 40% of posts would be BIPOC-focused, with 18% Latinx topics/artists/brands, 15% Black, 6% Asian and 1% Indigenous. Alas, after crunching some numbers I realized that it would be impossible unless I both greatly scaled back the number of Asian-focused posts and hired or collaborated with BIPOC/LGBTQ+, and there's no telling if I will be able to achieve the latter. So for now, I'm going to take stock of what was written in 2020 and plan on more diverse posts in 2021. In terms of Instagram, taking a cue from the 15% pledge, my goal is to ensure at least 15% of IG posts feature Black makeup history, artists, models or Black-owned brands. I've been doing 11% since June (or 1 out of every 9 posts) and it has proved challenging. It's difficult because I don't want to repeat the same brands, models or artists ad nauseam and also want to provide meaningful and unique content, i.e. I don't want to toss up some ad that people have seen a thousand times before, especially without offering any new insight, just because I need to fill a quota that I set. Representation is critical, but can easily veer into tokenism. Having said that, I'd still like for 1 post out of every 6 (or 17%) to have Black-focused content and I'm working on how I can do that without blindly regurgitating things that are readily available and well-known. I'm also going to count other topics towards this goal even if they don't show a Black model or brand. For example, I have a bottle of Revlon's Touch and Glow foundation from the early 1950s in the deepest shade they made up until about 1957. As you may have guessed, it's medium toned at best. This is an example of how mainstream brands simply did not care about the needs of BIPOC customers, especially Black ones. I'm still not sure how to handle other demographics, however; as noted above, Latinx and Indigenous brands, artists and topics are somehow more difficult to find than Black ones. Nevertheless, Instagram makes it easy to track so I will take stock of 2020's posts and work on at least increasing the number of posts involving these groups.
Increase the number of Museum objects from BIPOC-owned brands. I will keep track of what was acquired each year and work out the proportion of objects that came from BIPOC-owned brands. Then monitor those numbers each year to ensure they increase. For example, I purchased 22 makeup ads in 2020 and 6 of them were from Black-owned brands or featured Black models. So this year, let's say I purchase 22 ads again, 7 or more of them should be from BIPOC-owned brands or feature BIPOC models. The acquisition of objects from white-owned brands will still soundly outpace BIPOC-owned ones, especially for vintage pieces, but the goal is to increase that number and work towards a bigger percentage of BIPOC-owned objects in the collection.
Track the number of BIPOC and LGBTQ+ people or organizations I reached out or donated to, along with community organizations. While nothing may come of these attempts on my part to collaborate with them, I feel it's important to at least get in touch. And there are plenty of BIPOC and LGBTQ individuals and organizations that can use donations.
Ensure all exhibitions meaningfully represent BIPOC and LGBTQ+ individuals and brands, and if not, discuss why.
I think this sort of report card is more valuable than some bland diversity statement. Most of the statements I found lacked substance – they were just a bunch of jargon with no actionable steps outlined.
The Museum's diversity efforts are ongoing, of course. And I plan on tackling the related topics of social change and accessibility as future installments of MM Musings. But this is a beginning of a shift towards meaningful action. Thoughts? I'm off to create a report card for 2020 so I will have something to compare 2021 to.
It's the time of year where I babble on about things I want to tackle but most likely won't be able to. I reviewed last year's blog post ideas and out of the 30 topics I only managed to accomplish, let's see, 10. One-third of what I was aiming for. Sigh. As for exhibitions, I only did one and it wasn't all that cerebral. Anyway, no point in ruminating over what I should have done so here's a bit of an update.
In an effort to sort of narrow down the massive amount of exhibition ideas I have, I came up with a priority list of topics that might be doable in the 1-5 years (if the Museum is still in existence) and a secondary list for, well, I have no idea – eventually. I tweaked some of the descriptions as needed. Also, please keep in mind these are working titles. Hopefully I can think of better ones! Once again the husband came up with handy graphics.
Priority:
"Black and Blue: A History of Punk Makeup"
"Catch the Light: Glitter in Cosmetics from Ancient Times Through Today" – Aiming to have this up for holiday 2021, but it's a big one and I will need lots of help that I'm not sure I can get.
"The Life Aquatic: Mermaid Makeup" – I need to think of a better title soon because I want this to go up in June this year.
"Color History Through Cosmetics: Blue" – I decided to scrap the gold-themed exhibition in exchange for blue. I discovered so many fascinating things about blue makeup while pulling together some trivia on Instagram, there's definitely enough there for an exhibition.
"Ancient Allure: Egypt-Inspired Makeup and Beauty" - I did some polling on Twitter and Instagram and this one won as the next exhibition, so the tentative date is March 2021.
"Just Desserts: Sweet Tooth Revisited" – It might be good to revisit this on its 10-year anniversary in 2023.
"Aliengelic: Pat McGrath Retrospective" – Still a priority, but again, I will need lots of assistance and would strongly prefer having a makeup artist co-curate with me. Alternate title instead of Aliengelic: "The Mother of Modern Makeup".
"From Male Polish to Guyliner: A History of Men's Makeup" – I know that a new book on men's makeup will be released in June this year and it would be great to have the author as a co-curator.
"She's All That: Beauty in the '90s" – Oh, poor little neglected '90s makeup book and exhibition. You know I've been wanting to do a comprehensive exhibition and book since at least 2014, but just never seem to have the time. I do have the chapter outline but I think I need to make deadlines for each chapter and publish the drafts as blog posts, otherwise it's not getting done.
"Pandemic: Makeup in the Age of COVID-19" – Depressing but historically significant. I'll need to wait until the pandemic is safely behind us, but I am gathering bits of what will surely become history now.
"Ugly Makeup: A Revolution in Aesthetics" – I am so incredibly inspired by Makeup Brutalism and her other effort Ugly Makeup Revolution, I absolutely need to explore looks that completely shatter our notions of makeup's purpose. The exhibition would be a deep dive into how makeup is going beyond basic artistry and self-expression.
"Nothing to Hide: Makeup as Mask" – This was the other choice I included in the Twitter and Instagram polls. While respondents chose Egyptian-themed makeup over this one, the mask theme in makeup goes back centuries and would certainly make a rich topic, plus I could do a subsection on mask-wearing's effects on makeup in the pandemic.
Secondary list/things I'm not sure about:
"Queens: A History of Drag Makeup" – Amazing topic but overwhelming. Need much help!
"From Mods and Hippies to Supervixens and Grrrls: '60s and '90s Makeup in Dialogue" – In my opinion, cultural developments in both the late '60s and mid-1990s radically changed the beauty industry and gave birth to new ideas about how people view and wear makeup; there are many parallels between the two eras. I feel, however, that I'd need to do the '90s exhibition and book first so this would have to wait.
"Gilded Splendor: A History of Gold Makeup" – This is nice but the more I thought about it the more I didn't think it would be a priority.
"Design is a Good Idea: Innovations in Cosmetics Design and Packaging" - Another that I still like but not so much as to make it immediate.
"The Medium is the Message: Makeup as Art" – This will trace how makeup is marketed and conceived of as traditional art mediums, i.e painting and sculpture, and also how art history is incorporated into makeup advertising and collections. Consider it a comprehensive discussion of this post while working in canonical artists whose work has appeared on makeup packaging. My issue with it is that it's overwhelmingly white. The artists used in vintage ads such Lancome's are white and even collections today don't collaborate with many BIPOC artists, especially Black ones.
"Wanderlust: Travel-Inspired Beauty" - A rich topic and would be timely in light of the pandemic limiting travel for most, but honestly, I'm not that excited about it.
"By Any Other Name: The Rose in Makeup and Beauty" – I pitched this idea to the FIT Museum as a small add-on to their "Ravishing" exhibition. They weren't interested and now that the exhibition has passed I'm tabling it for now.
And now for blog posts!
MM Musings (2): FINALLY getting up the diversity and inclusion in museums post up this month after a year of working on it, and the other topic to tackle this year will be becoming a nonprofit organization.
MM Mailbag (2-3): Once again the MM mailbag overflowed in 2020 and most of the inquiries took a significant amount of time to research and answer. I'll see what might be feasible.
Brief histories (4-5): I still want to go ahead with histories of powder applicators, setting sprays and maybe colored mascara, color-changing cosmetics and how makeup language has evolved (for example, why we typically say "blush" now instead of "rouge" for cheek color.) The author of Cosmetics and Skin kindly suggested an article on copycats, i.e. how companies clearly ripped each other off and continue to do so today in terms of packaging, ad campaigns, etc. which is a great topic. I'm also interested in a history of Day of the Dead makeup.
Trends (1): Makeup brand merchandise and swag – another I didn't cover in 2020 as planned. I'm also very interested in the video game trend in makeup, but I'm hoping this amazing person writes about it instead!
Vintage (6): series of Dorothy Gray ads featuring portraits of well-to-do "society" ladies, '90s prom makeup, and wear-to-work makeup from the 1970s-90s, defunct '90s and early aughts brands (Benetton, Calvin Klein, Tommy Hilfiger, Nina Ricci and Inoui ID to start with), and a slew of other brand histories, especially Black-owned brands like La Jac and Rose Morgan. I'm also itching to write something about Black salespeople and customers in direct sales companies, i.e. Avon, Mary King by Watkins, Fuller, Artistry by Amway, etc. The company I hope to tackle this month if the objects I purchased on Ebay ever arrive will be Holiday Magic…the story is absolutely bonkers.
Artist collabs (5): As in 2020 I'm still trying to catch up on some of last year's holiday releases, including Fee Greening for Mikimoto and Cecilia Carlstedt and Morag Myerscough for Bobbi Brown. There are tons of others from previous years that I'm still thinking about, such as El Seed for MAC, Connor Tingley for NARS, the Shiseido Gallery compacts and lip balms, and a series on the artists whose work appears on Pat McGrath's packaging.
Book reviews (2): In the interest of saving time and also because my reviews tend to be badly written (even for me), I decided to do regular reviews only for some books and speed reviews of others, combining several books in a single post. Most of the ones I'm planning on are in the Beauty Library section of the website.
Dream Teams series (1-2): I did actually start this series last year, albeit without the mockups I had wanted to do. Stay tuned for more fantasy artist/makeup collabs. I especially want to focus on BIPOC artists and flesh out the idea I had back in 2016 for a Rrose Sélavy-themed collection.
Color Connections (5+): I returned to Color Connections last year but only once. They just take so much time. However, I've been toying with the idea of putting them as a dedicated series on Instagram separate from the Museum's regular account. That way it might make me accountable in terms of working on them more regularly.
Finally, there will be lots of other random things popping up, and I have so many people I want to talk to so I hope to nab some interviews and guest posts. 🙂
And here we have my book ideas. They're the same as last year. The first one is an alternate title for the '90s exhibition. The second one would basically be the accompanying catalogue for the Makeup as Art exhibition. I still want to do a coffee table book of pretty makeup, but my concern is that it won't be diverse.
Any of these topics interest you? Which ones would you like to read about/see first?
(image from colourstudies.com)
(images from moragmyerscough.com)
(images from designboom.com)
