"I'm wobbling on the icy sidewalks of Manhattan against the sharp, brutal wind, which is mockingly slicing my face into pieces. I feel like I’m five years old again trapped in my one-piece zip-up snowsuit unable to raise my arms, intently concentrating with knitted brows trying not to walk sideways and fall on my derrière. There are so many layers underneath my puffy coat that I feel immobile and stuck. I grip the railing as I descend down to the subway, my boots crunching the grayed crystal snow-salt beneath me as I slide down the stairs. At the subway platform we’re all children again waiting for the school bus on a wintry morning, puffing out our breaths through our cocooned scarves with only our eyes peering through a tiny space like ninjas.
A text notification vibrates, my girlfriend (an ex-New Yorker) now living on West Coast: "Augh! Another stupid sunny day here! I miss New York, the cold, my sweaters and coats *cat face with tears* emoji."
I immediately reply with: "Three *angry red devil faces* emoji" while I mentally utter explosive curses at her—I picture her wearing flip-flops and shorts. Immaturely, at that moment, I hate her and pout like a child.
At the studio, I’m stirring the last shimmery touches on my mixing table, the almost completed color mixes for The Fan Collection 2.0 consume me. They are stunningly beautiful and simply lovely, yet, for my next round of mixing, I cannot fathom working with anything this pretty so soon. Instead, I start craving sensible soft cotton undies and my oldest sweats from college. That's the outfit I'd wear as I picture myself munching on Doritos and washing it down with beer while watching horrific “Lifetime” movies—I crave dichotomy. That's when I remember this quote from "The Age of Miracles" by Karen Thompson Walker: "Even beauty, in abundance, turns creepy." I then call my girlfriend, I understand our finicky hearts.
My thirst to seek some kind of alluring forlornness leads me to words. Wordsmithing entrances me, I can marinate myself for days with its craft. Words are a magical and ancient medium. Great writers use words to depict the cinematic or to hint at nuances of imagination. Would I? Can I humbly dare to translate that into colors?
As soon as I read “Ghost House,” by Robert Frost (published on public domain), the colors revealed themselves. It was as if I was physically walking along the patch of earth from the poem. There are many layers in those verses that illuminate one’s soul; I’ve attempted to translate this into layers of colors. This entire collection was curated by a harmony of hues that go seamlessly hand in hand, including the glitters that can be layered with the opaque colors to give depth and texture depending on one's mood.
It's rare for me to make four opaque colors in one collection, but these earthy palettes ravished me, when I read the poem, these colors seduced me. The opaques themselves are all demurely quiet, neutral and wearable, yet sophisticatedly pensive for all occasions and seasons (my own version of the perfect little black dress). I know, I know, scandalously, there is only one color with that shimmery sensation and I've crushed on glitter again. That last time you've witnessed this was circa 2009.
Unfolding the ocean full of desires has completed this puzzle and it makes my hunger complete. I hope you’ll enjoy this journey as much as I did."
A Lonely House: The sleepy night sky swallows up the last of the dim sunlight. Like a black and white photograph from long ago, naked tree branches are covered in the snow that is falling on the ground and the ubiquitous snow wins with a smirk. A brown, weathered, broken wooden house remains, without any apparent light or life. Just there, content, scattered, and waiting. Out of this friendless and disparaged landscape dwells the perfect opaque brown. Like handsomely worn English saddle leather, a rich and lush one-coater.
Forgotten Road: The snow has melted. A howling wind stamps, turns, and tangos with the broken brown house too many times. In the morning after they part, a charcoal road, faded over time, leads to the house yearning for companionship. In the slick asphalt road after the rain, I found a charcoal opaque gray. It is the color of a deep gray river rock that fits perfectly in your hand, the darkest shade of gray in the spectrum. A darker, moodier sister to Stormy.
The Mosses Mar: The small creek sings and chatters, conversing with the busy birds pecking away at nature’s supper. In between the brown house the wood has shed, there are sage-colored mosses bursting up for their new eager, erratic life. This is the color of the mosses in between stones or scattered deadwoods, parched and lightened by the sun, almost identical to the underside of Aspen leaves when they tremble in the wind. (This is a less yellow version of Diddy Mow 2.0)
Wild Raspberries Grow: One spring morning, a sparkling hint of brilliance appeared in the periphery where wild raspberry patches thrived. The ruby fruit twinkled. Like Dorothy, from The Wizard of Oz, the raspberries find their ruby slippers—turning the grayed world of black and white into a beautiful spring day. In the light of the sun of a new day, the micro leafy green glitters and sparkling fuchsia berries float. Combine this with any of the opaque colors in this collection or use three coats to see a kaboom of glitter!
Small, Dim, Summer Stars: Lost in the woods on a moonless, un-illuminated night, they stumble through the darkness. Looking up at the sky amid the fragrant forest, the weeping willow tree branches recite a monologue in the distance. A whippoorwill sopranos—its cadenza joins to compete. Then they appeared, countless tiny stars embedded in the dark sky, it was always there to be found in every gentle, trusting heart. This sweltering silvery black base hammered with multifaceted and spectacular green, blue, pink, shimmery, glittery twinkling stars will bring you back to that summer night long ago, full of wonder and beauty.
As Sweet Companions (one coat over Forgotten Road): In the end, it was the hardship and the beauty that all flourished together. The sonatas will always have the contrasting movement that settles what the perfect ending was meant to be. The silver-lavender and matte black glitter were meant to be playmates. This is not your typical screaming glitter, it's more discreet, reserved, with muted tones. You can create a perfect polka-dot nail art overlay with any of the opaque colors from this collection as base. Or better yet, for those who want it real--layer it on for jeweled digits!
The formula on these was very good. As usual, the creme shades are extraordinarily pigmented and completely opaque in one coat. The texture is thick and slow-flowing, so if you're going to do more than one coat it's best to let them dry for a few minutes to avoid any clumping or smearing. The two glitter shades are much more thin in texture. Wild Raspberries Grow is easy to layer (I'm wearing three coats) for solo wear, while As Sweet Companions is more sparse and can be worn alone, it requires a little dabbing and arranging of the glitter with the brush to apply evenly. Dry time is long.
This collection will be available for 48-hour pre-order starting at 12:00pm EST on Friday, February 7th on rescuebeauty.com.
(collection provided for review)
Wild Raspberries Grow (one coat) over A Lonely House
The formula on these was very good. As usual, the creme shades are extraordinarily pigmented and completely opaque in one coat. The texture is thick and slow-flowing, so if you're going to do more than one coat it's best to let them dry for a few minutes to avoid any clumping or smearing. The two glitter shades are much more thin in texture. Wild Raspberries Grow is easy to layer (I'm wearing three coats) for solo wear, while As Sweet Companions is more sparse and can be worn alone, it requires a little dabbing and arranging of the glitter with the brush to apply evenly. Dry time is long.
This collection will be available for 48-hour pre-order starting at 12:00pm EST on Friday, February 7th on rescuebeauty.com.
(collection provided for review)
