I was born with a dangerous addiction to all things sparkly. My mother tells how I was always glued to anything shiny: jewels, crystal, glass, glitter – good god it got me high, my eyes would literally freeze on anything that sparkled. As I grew up and realised that the sparkly things I especially wanted were way out of my pocket money range, the obsession turned to eyeliner and lipgloss. Shiny goo that goes on my face? Hell yes!
My mother didn’t help – with her religious morning makeup routine, half can of hair spray, and her advice from her younger years as a model, I was hooked on something incredible: complete physical transformation available from Priceline at very affordable prices.
Years of high school went by being told I wore an inappropriate about of makeup for a private school girl, and that my glorious group of friends should rather restrain from all the black hair dye, liquid eyeliner, and occasional hysterical hallway humping.
Add on week after week of themed parties with my friends determined to get ready at my house where my mum could offer thoughtful advice such as “your pants aren’t tight enough if you don’t have to lie down to put them on”, “higher heels and bigger hair”, and “you can’t gain an inch in that dress”. We were in trouble.
I was a smart cookie though – let me rephrase that – I was damn good at exams, and after graduating with a mark in the 90s for my HSC my oblivious family and friends all thought I was destined for a successful career as a something.
Problem was, no one including me knew what that something was. So I suffered three months of university doing mind numbing subjects before having a grade 5 meltdown on my hallway carpet one day. God bless my mother she had worked out from years of watching me transform myself that perhaps Makeup Artistry was a good starting point, despite the whopping $15000 price tag for a year long Certificate IV.
I LOVED it. Best year of my life hands down, only problem is, when you graduate everyone in the industry still expects you to work for free which is kind of a problem when you’re paying rent just to live with your mum.
So I gave Beauty Therapy a shot, another Certificate IV, and never ending days working in salons for $10 an hour. The conditions were stuff of nightmares, which led to my secondary stage 6 meltdown. Luckily, after what was then four years of working in the ‘beauty industry’ I was employable and knew my stuff since working with an angel of a therapist who should honestly have her own empire she’s so good at what she does. I had another job in makeup, working weddings on weekends and strutting my happy stuff until realising that “beauty counter staff” sounded like a lame career to explain to my new boyfriend’s family, despite it being my favourite job in the world.
So just to prove myself to anyone who cared, I got an admin job and started doing a correspondence business degree at my mother’s suggestion. See my mum knew from my days mucking around building a salon out of bubble bath at age 5 that I wanted my own business, and what’s the best way to get there? Study everything under the sun so you can convince people who hand out money that you know your stuff. Smart woman.
So here I am as you know, planning away for my future business and wanting to share with you some thoughts, advice, or just plain giggle-inducing topics while I get my ducks lined up in a row.
Let the fun begin!
All my love,