Last Hurrah: A Little Dab’ll Do Ya

I had my makeup done at Neiman Marcus and must admit, I looked dashing.

A Little Dab’ll Do Ya
Jean Paul Gaultier’s new line of makeup for men awakened by natural charm.

Perched in one of those tall chairs in the cosmetics department at
Neiman Marcus NorthPark, as a fey man with shorn forearms dabbed at my
upper eyelids with a kohl pen and I discussed with him the finer points
of makeup application, I took comfort in knowing that I am handy with a
gun. In fact, I personally own two shotguns. I kill small animals with
them. I enjoy it. I mean, I don’t relish the actual taking of lives,
which sometimes requires the wringing of necks when the small animals
do not immediately expire as a result of their wounds. Then they lie
there in the field, twitching, giving you that doe-eyed look that says,
“Uh-oh.” That’s no fun. But I enjoy the sport of the hunt and the
camaraderie of the other guys and the smell of gunpowder. Plus, I look
good in Carhartt.

Anyway, even as shoppers in Neiman’s cosmetics
department looked at me askance—it is true that the kohl pen made me
tear up, and I had to ask for a tissue, which might have given
passersby the impression that having my makeup done was making me cry—I
was unfazed. Any man who has ever confronted a wild dove and then shot
that dove to death has, like, this internal atomizer filled with
strength. I sprayed mine. Inside me.

The entire experience,
except for the dove-hunt part, I underwent in your service, so that I
might test Jean Paul Gaultier’s new line of makeup for men before you
went and padded your billable hours so that you could afford the stuff.
The makeup line is called Tout Beau, and it just came to Neiman’s—which
would prefer I not refer to it as “makeup.” Gaultier describes Tout
Beau as a “bold, virile line of revolutionary tools with instant
natural results that offer each and every man the right to be naturally
handsome.” For me, “makeup” is easier to remember.

No matter.
When the fey man finished with my face—“matifying bronzer” to brighten
my complexion, concealer to erase signs of fatigue, a touch of the
aforementioned kohl to “awaken my natural charm”—he offered me a
mirror. I’d stopped crying, and I have to admit that I did look
handsome. The effect was subtle, bewitching. I was operating on only
three hours of sleep because of a poker game the night before (virile),
and yet I had a refreshed, just-out-of-the-sun glow that suggested I’d
recently returned via private jet from a week’s holiday in St. Bart’s
with a woman other than my wife.
By then, it was cocktail hour and
time to see what sort of impression my fresh new face would make when
seen through the bottom of a highball glass. Off for a few bourbon and
branches with the boys!

Truthfully, I feared at first that they
would guess I was wearing makeup and beat me up. I needn’t have. As we
exercised our elbows and discussed the issues of the day, not one of
the guys appeared to notice. And knowing that I looked my best really
put me on my game. I made several witty ripostes. And I gave a brief
lecture on how to make convertible arbitrage plays in overseas markets.
I’m pretty sure it was the concealer talking.

From the bar, I
went to meet my wife for dinner at a restaurant. She would be the real
test. If she can spot the faintest smudge of Chanel Infrarouge
Whisperlight lipstick on the collar of a burgundy shirt, then I figured
she’d notice if her husband had just had his makeup done at Neiman’s.

Not so. Halfway through dinner, I fessed up. “Can’t you tell I’m wearing makeup?” I asked.

leaned in and studied my face. “Something about you looked different
when I saw you,” she said. “But I figured it was because you’d been

And there you have it, men. Jean Paul Gaultier’s Tout
Beau makes a man look likes he’s been drinking. In other words: bold,
virile, naturally handsome. It passes the test.