Thursday, September 1, 2011

les femmes frecklé*

What better place to start my blog than with an image of beauty very close to my heart?

As a child, I was tormented by my freckles and did everything to fade them. I sponged them nightly with lemon juice, I smothered myself in sunscreen, I even saved all my pocket money to buy a special 'freckle bleach'. You won't be surprised to know that none of them worked.

As an adult I subjected my poor face to the hot snap of photo rejuvenation, which gave me porcelain, freckle-free skin - until they all came back again. If it wasn't so painful I would probably be in a permanent state of yoyo-freckling, but lucky for my bank account I couldn't put myself through that procedure more than once.

So, today, I am at peace with my freckles. My makeup artist friend, who has worked on some of the most gorgeous women in the world, thinks they are beautiful. And I realised that if my own daughter had freckles I would find them adorable on her, so why not on me?

It got me thinking about beauty, and how it creeps up on you sometimes, and how we need to find beauty in the every day. So I decided to finally put myself on the blogosphere with a little daily dose of beauty. It might be a person, it might be a song, it might even be a pair of shoes or a new lipstick - I hope to make this blog a virtual scrapbook of beautiful finds.

Last week I was lucky enough to be invited to a number of shows at New Zealand Fashion Week, and of all the glitz and glamour and fashion, this photo was my favourite, taken back stage at Zambesi. I don't even know her name (update: apparently her name is Olivia Lefebre - thanks Kat) but her freckles make this photo beautiful. I hope she is the first of many femmes frecklé on this blog. For anyone interested in how to recreate her makeup, the Zambesi face chart is here.
The only thing I ask of you, lovely readers, is that you come back often and talk, talk, talk. Tell me what you think. Leave your comments. Share your thoughts.


*OK - so technically, the word frecklé does not exist, or at least it didn't before now. To be freckled in French is to be covered in 'les tâches de rousseur'.

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