How To Make Yourself Look Like A Bejeweled Skeleton

Welcome to Make Your Face, a makeup tutorial series with a simple mission: makeup by you (me) for your (my) own entertainment, Establishment-style.

Step 1: Promise your editor a look that features luminous, sunlit skin.

Step 2: Start your period and sprout a giant zit on your chin.


Decide that this is instead the perfect time to attempt to make yourself look like an ostentatiously bejeweled skeleton residing in a provincial Catholic church in 16th-century Germany.

NEW STEP ONE: Turn off the overhead lights to put yourself in a more sprung-from-the-catacombs, enshrined-in-a-reliquary kind of mood. Then make your skin look more bone-like.


Use a finger, brush, or whatever implement you prefer to add some contour with a darker shade of eyeshadow. (Or whatever sort of face-pigment you like. It won’t hurt my feelings if you use a flash palette.)


Decide you want to be a toothy Katakombenheilige, as opposed to the ones who have (gloriously!) creepy wax lips. Use a small brush and some powder or pigment to paint teeth onto your own closed lips. Realize that you could use a lot of practice at tooth-lip painting, and also some facial anatomy lessons. Shrug and soldier on, blacking out a couple of your “teeth.” Most of the catacomb saints have pretty busted faces, anyway.

In fact, you’re not nearly busted enough to properly mimic a catacomb saint yet! Use a bit of brownish-yellow eyeshadow to stain up your too-pristine skull face. Rub some dark pigment underneath your eyes.


Grab an old curtain: the extra length adds a certain sensation of sweeping magnificence. You can fasten it to your head with a Goody claw clip a friend abandoned at your place two years ago.


Become suddenly, violently dissatisfied with the makeup you’ve already applied. Smudge it with your fingers until you feel pretty good about it again.


Use some shiny ribbon, plastic craft gems, and eyelash glue to give yourself a bejeweled beard à la Saint Valentinus of Waldsassen.


Now it’s time to step up the rest of your finery to match your jaw-jewelry game. If you can still move comfortably, you aren’t adorned enough yet.


Next, it’s time to address the problem of having a nose and eyes. You could darken your beak and lids to make them better resemble empty sockets, but why would you do that when you can copy the multitude of catacomb saints who cover their unsightly facial cavities with jewelry? Lacking a nose brooch of the proper dimensions, however, you substitute with shiny cardstock. Note: double-sided tape won’t stick to a nose covered in clown makeup.


And NOW! It’s time for the part you’ve most anticipated! Enamored of the doe-eyed gaze of Saint Munditia of Munich and possessed of a set of glass mannequin eyeballs, you are ready to complete your masterpiece with the addition of artificial eyes!


At this point you realize that you are in effect planning to render yourself blind and then attempt take a selfie. You had not yet considered that this might be difficult to accomplish satisfactorily, given that you are currently home alone with no assistance.

No matter! You have taken thousands of selfies before; you are pretty sure you can literally take a good one with your eyes closed. You’ve got this.


And the results are ASTONISHING!!! Truly, you are . . . well, you are a sight to behold! Like the catacomb saints before they became an embarrassment to the Catholic church and got banished to storage or interment, your ornamented visage is an inspiration to the faithful!


It made me forget about my zit for a while, anyway, and to that I can say: Amen.

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