Grunge Makeup Looks Novels & Stories

Looking in the mirror, I'm horrified by the person staring back at me. My eyes puffy coupled with dark circles, I look rough. I feel even worse. After applying a generous amount of eye cream to reduce the swelling and concealer. I finish by using far too much mascara and eyeliner attempting to create a sultry look to mask the tears. To my horror, I look like a Goth sister. Giving up, I throw my hair into a high ponytail and slip on a fitted black tracksuit.

into that soil, the plant was probably going to sprout teeth and start screaming. I needed to look worse. Marcus was an overachiever when it came to his own ego, but he wasn't an ungrateful idiot. He had eventually notice that I looked way too healthy for a girl who was supposed to be a walking sedative. I crawled over to the vanity and grabbed my old eyeshadow palette. I rubbed a dark, shitty plum shade into the hollows under my eyes until I looked like a ghost that had been through a spin cycle. I smudged a bit of gray around my jawline and pulled a few curls loose until I looked sickly and pathetic.

Her stiletto heels and shortness of her dress gave the appearance of long length to her bare legs. I was trying to get away with black skinny jeans and a cutoff band t-shirt. My black wedge heel sandals gave me enough lift without being uncomfortable. My hair was blown dry with the hairdryer with loose natural curls and my smokey eyes and red lipstick were popping enough to look good and achieve the slight grunge look I was going for.

But as I hoped, the penny-ante grifter is propping up the bar, glass in hand, one arm operating like a pump as he knocks back cheap beer with a group of a dozen or so. The other arm is slung around the waist of a gruesome female, her eyes made up zombie-fashion. The remaining make-up job is way too pale for her face, except for the lipstick, which is black, matching the gelled spikes of hair radiating out from her head like some kind of poisoned halo. For some reason she thinks that elbow-length, black lace gloves make a good match with Doc Marten boots. And in a final salute to style, she chews gum, never actually closing her mouth to do so.

She said. After the dress was on, I was led to a chair where the final touches were applied. A makeup artist worked her magic, using subtle tones to accentuate my natural features. My eyes were framed with soft, smoky eyeshadow that made my dark brown eyes look even more intense. A sweep of highlighter along my cheekbones added a subtle glow, while my lips were painted a soft nude pink, giving them a natural but fuller appearance.

I giggled. “If you can make a man like THAT crazy about you, you have nothing to worry about winning over the audience!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s finish your make up. You are gonna rock it tonight!!” These guys were exceptional. My makeup was flawless—my skin seemed to glow under its own spotlight. The smoky gold and bronze eyeshadow made my eyes pop, and the sharp eyeliner added just the right amount of drama. And the dress. Oh, the dress!

After grabbing my bags and other necessary stuff from my desk, I headed straight for the parking lot. Once in my car, I spent a couple of minutes to touch up my make-up. Well, to be honest, more like reapplying the whole thing since my encounter with Edward hardly a lot of make-up was left on my face. Since Zak seemed irritated on the phone, I decided to apply turquoise eyeshadow with solid black eyeliners to my eyes and orange-tone blush with glitter to my cheeks. For lips, I went with orange lip gloss with gold glitter for a truly bright, cheerful and sparkling look.

I dye my hair often. My make-up, when I bother to do it, is considered colorful gothic. The blue of my eyes, I’ve been told, makes the smokey style pop. Today I have a black base on the crease of my lid with what looks like thick winged eyeliner. A baby blue sparkly shadow on my eyelids and over the creamy black shadow to create a cool look. My lips are outlined in black with a liquid matte plum lipstick. My skin is a tan that most beach barbies would kill for. My hair is shoulder length. It’s not curly but not straight either. I have to straighten it most days or it’s a frizzy mess. The roots at the crown of my head are pink while the rest is blue and purple. For now, anyway. My shirt is a

Her makeup melted completely. Ruth’s makeup was always thick and glamorous, and she didn’t have much money to spend on high-quality, water-proof makeup. All the products she used were cheap and brightly colored. Her eyeshadow, eyeliner and the foundation on her face had all melted, making her look like a clown.

nose. This ugly addition shifted the entire balance of her face downward, making her look heavy and slightly ridiculous. As for her curves? She used a chest binder to flatten herself completely, then layered on a bulky, oversized dark gray coat. She added a realistic silicone Adam's apple to her throat and slapped two jagged, nasty-looking scars across her forehead and right cheek—the kind you'd get from a brutal street fight with a rogue. Even her delicate eyebrows were filled in with charcoal until they looked like two thick caterpillars crawling across her face.