Chapter 08 - Salon makeover

Our next planned stop was a great second-hand shop in The Loop. Per the girls in Grace’s office, they had a large selection of stylish, i.e. sexy, office wear. But since I was exactly in the situation I’d been afraid of… half masculine, half feminine… I got Grace to agree to the salon first. Thankfully it was only a few blocks from the second-hand shop.

Grace told me about this salon on many occasions. She had initially chosen Loops Cuts and Curls because it was within walking distance of her office. When she started at K Edison Global, she figured it would be great to visit around work hours. Either before starting her day, after a day’s work, or even during a planned break. Julie, Grace’s hairstylist, was in her mid-40s but had a young spirit. She was always trying out new hairstyles on herself and encouraged her employees to do the same. They specialized in professional styles, being downtown in The Loop and all, but they had their fair share of models and actresses coming for the latest coiffure as well.

And this was a full-service salon. They had a manicurist and pedicurist that rented some space in the back. They had two full-time beauticians that worked on makeup and cosmetics and sold a wide selection of products. They offered waxing, hair coloring, facials, massages, eyelash extensions, hair extensions, scalp renewals, and brow sculpting. In fact, they covered everything that Lovely Locks did, which also came highly recommended, but was one particular salon that I wanted to avoid.

Grace had talked to Julie about what we were planning and even had me talk with her so that Julie could get a good handle on how much they’d be doing and how much they’d be teaching me to do myself. So when we walked up to the shop, it was closed to the public. A young spritely woman came and let us in, herding both Grace and I into the back while talking non-stop about how brave I was and how all the girls here wanted to help out as much as they could.

We had already discussed the look that we were going for. Office sultry. But within reason, I wanted it to be either reversable or deletable. So, when all the girls got me into the chair and started working I wasn’t exactly anxious as they already knew what to do. Plus, it was oddly comforting to just hear them chatting amongst themselves, sometimes about me, sometimes about pop culture, sometimes about gossip, and sometimes even about Grace.

Julie, who was personally working on my hair, started with a thorough wash and then moved immediately into a coloring session. As much as I balked at having my hair colored, everyone else was in full agreement that a ‘girl like Paris’ wouldn’t get that far into her career with mousy bland dull reddish hair. I at least talked them down from the edge and got them to agree to a simple single-color red. If nothing else, it could be described away as a cleansing period for my hair between more dramatic colorings. I agreed to let them decide on the style at the time of work so that it would match my face and body. At the most ****, once we were done it could always be completely cut off. I really didn’t want to go down to a buzz cut but was comfortable knowing that the hair style was temporary.

Anna, another girl that worked there, attacked my eyebrows. Her first swing was to use a waxing technique to give my eyebrows a more distinct shape. I’d nixed the idea of taking my fairly bushy eyebrows down to the thin lines that would truly feminize my face but shaping them seemed reasonable. After she had the shape down, she then went into attack mode with a pair of tweezers. Julie promised me that thinning out my brows would last a while but eventually it would all grow back.

The twins, Luna and Selene, that worked on my nails were the quietest of everybody but evidently my requirement of having the nails be removable after a few weeks made their job difficult. They cut, cleaned, and buffed my nails until they absolutely shined. Then they worked on some longer artificial nails. Julie put up some great arguments on why I should go with a deep shiny red as it would complement my hair and the general theme they were going to work on for my makeup. But having to live with them, in between times in the office, I insisted we go with something they called a French Manicure. As far as I was concerned it looked classy and feminine enough. Plus, I thought it made my nails look longer without being so long that I had to learn how to use my hands all over. I did agree with their coloring, going with a true pink instead of nude and a bold white for the tips. With the topcoat, I ended up with four different nail polishes so that I could touch up and recreate the look at home or in the office. They even styled my toenails to match so that I could show off in open-toed pumps.

While we waited for one stage of the hair coloring… I honestly didn’t’ know it would take multiple stages to make a simple one-color hair shade… they brought over their esthetician, Lucy. She taught me how to properly keep my face clean and soft and glowing. It seems that even above and beyond the products Grace had me use, I’d end up with another four creams specifically for my face. And while she was impressed with the close shave I’d given myself, she convinced me that waxing the areas that would be most visible would help me to maintain that smooth look. It ended up taking her about another forty-five minutes to wax my arms and my legs. And thank God the faja covered my crotch as she seemed really interested in giving me a Brazilian ‘at no extra charge’. As I didn’t know what it was, I almost agreed to come back for the procedure until Grace, giggling the entire time, whispered what she meant in my ear. Needless to say, I politely declined the offer. I did agree though to return at a later date and get my back waxed if we ended up with any blouses or dresses that would show off that area as it’s just difficult to shave it.

When we returned to them working on my hair, another girl, Eveyln, came over and started teaching me about cosmetics. Grace had gone over the basics with me, so I knew it was more complicated than I’d initially thought, but even with that prep work I was still surprised at how much of this was an everyday thing for women. I knew what went into making the models look the way they do, but evidently that’s just a difference in finishing touches and style and not overall broad strokes of taking a plain clean face and transforming it into something truly beautiful.

I think the thing that bothered me most about cosmetics is how much they talked about hiding facets of my face or shaping and changing my face. Especially when they said that this wasn’t anything different between me and women. They hid facets of their faces and shaped and changed their faces just as much. Even the really gorgeous women transformed themselves with cosmetics. And while I thought that was a shame, covering up a beautiful woman with creams and powders and gels and colors just to gain a different kind of beauty, none of the women around me seemed bothered by it at all. It was just normal for them.

The last stages all went by fairly quickly, although it was a lot of learning on my part of each. First my hair was done. While I was very happy with the dark auburn shade it ended up, believing it looked classic and sexy, all of the girls said it needed more. Some highlights, some lowlights, and just a brighter overall shade. Ultimately, as I’d have to live with this color, I got the deciding vote and then spent the next hour and a half learning how to style my hair from Julie. Julie promised me that these were all simple hairstyles, though they seemed quite complicated to me. They included several types and styles of ponytails, a couple topknots, a sideswept bob, a nice sleek pulled back look, an elegantly parted look, a couple versions of wavy layers, and two refined braids. All office proper but all on the sexier side of the spectrum.

Next came the eyelash extensions. I swear, I almost poked my eye out three different times but finally got the hang of getting the eyelashes glued into place and then learned how to take them off and reapply them. They promised me that any of my own eyelashes that came off, which was more than a few, would grow back.

The final part was putting all of my cosmetics lessons into practice. I learned how to put on two basic sets of cosmetics for if I wanted to go out somewhere besides the office. I assured them that I wasn’t going anywhere enfemme other than the office but they insisted. Then came the four basic cosmetic looks, ranging form ‘sly’ sexy to ‘lets fuck’ sexy. The last version, the ‘lets fuck’ was very effective and I promised myself I’d never apply that makeup to my own face again. It was hard to sit down even with the gaffe in place, I was that attractive I the mirror.

When all was said and done, the only inappropriate thing about me was my clothes. My feet, my legs and arms, my skin, my face, my cosmetics, and my hair, all screamed feminine. Add in my wide hips, my narrow waist, and my busty chest, and I was all woman to any but the most discerning eye. I think the part that really sealed the deal for all the ladies who had worked on me, and insisted on a group photo afterwards, was when I thanked them individually in my soft feminine voice. I’d been practicing it on and off since I’d agreed to Grace’s plan and knew that it would take me days to get it right. But here, dressed like this, shaped like this, looking like this, and in a quiet environment where I didn’t have to raise my voice, it was near perfect.

As it was late we made one quick stop to the corner of State and Madison where we could hit T.J. Maxx, Target, and Burlington to get a couple quick outfits and a coat. Specifically, a coat that could go around my breasts. We got some normal sweats in both white and red that would work fine for further clothes shopping and not call me out as a slut or particularly juicy. Grace insisted on a skirt and plain sleeveless blouse that would work for a little more upscale look, though I insisted it be a below the knee skirt. She begrudgingly allowed me to get a comfortable but still feminine pair of tennis shoes so long as I also got a simple pair of three-inch heels that I could practice in. And as little as I wanted them or felt we needed them, we ended up with several sets of plain panties and bras. I knew we’d need something sexier for work, so I didn’t see why I needed ‘normal’ as well.

When it came to a coat, Grace and I almost came to blows. Grace continued to swear up and down that if we couldn’t show off my breasts, that we just had to emphasize my legs in every way possible. That was going to include shorter skirts and plenty of stockings and pantyhose, but those would be for tomorrow. For this evening, it was about NOT getting a long coat like the one she was wearing. I thought my argument was very sensible. Unlike her or most women working in an office environment, I’m not accustomed to having my legs all but bare in the winter. My normal jeans or slacks provide much more warmth for my legs, especially now that I don’t have any hair down there. But my argument hit deaf ears as Grace nixed any coat that traveled below my waist, and I nixed anything that didn’t fall below my knees.

Finally, as they were obviously trying to close, the sales lady at Burlington came over to our large pile of discarded coats, took one look, and found the perfect compromise. It was a cropped wool trench coat that came just below my waist. It was in a striking red with a faux fur collar that made it just pop. I liked it because the little bit of extra length and the wool would make it warmer than anything else Grace approved of. Grace liked it because evidently it came across as very stylish on a budget.

Between all the cosmetics, the hair products, the styling tools, the mirrors, the skin products, the shoes, and the clothes, we had a half dozen bags between us. When we finally got on the train it wasn’t full by any means, but there weren’t any seats together. Splitting the bags up, Grace and I each grabbed one of the empty seats and tried to take up as little space as possible. I chose my seat simply based on the surrounding people as I’d rather sit next to ‘other’ women rather than the men. Unfortunately, the woman I sat right next to got off at the next stop. Before I could even get Grace’s attention, the seat was taken by a young-looking professional man. Lawyer, salesman, accountant, he at least looked like a gentleman.

When he looked at me and asked if I had just been shopping, I recognized it as a bad attempt to start a conversation. Instead of doing what I saw most women do on a crowded train, ignore the man bothering her, I decided it was probably the perfect time to practice my ‘upbeat’ attitude. If I were a woman, I’d ignore him. But ‘Paris’ wouldn’t. I might not flirt like Paris will have to, but I can at least get used to smiling at a man and chatting with him. So, for the next thirty minutes I chatted with ‘Robert’. I let the conversation keep turning toward him so that I could nod and giggle and act interested instead of making up any kind of story about myself. I’m not to proud to admit that it was a little nerve wracking for a few minutes, but once it became clear that ‘Robert’ only saw a pretty woman in front of him and nothing to do with me, it became easier to relax and just focus on my voice. Thankfully ‘Robert’ turned out to really be a gentleman as once my stop came up, he stood up and let me pass without as much as a touch or even an offer of a phone number or further contact.

Once Grace and I were back in our apartment, I simply stowed everything in my bedroom and focused on getting out of my clothes and faja Columbiana. I probably could have gotten out of the body shapewear faster if I had Grace come in and help me but knowing that I’d have to get used to doing it alone sooner rather than later, I took the time to figure out the best way to get the **** device off.

When I was finally naked, followed Julie’s instructions on cleaning the makeup off my face and putting my nighttime lotions on, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I ignored the marks left by the faja Columbiana as I knew they’d fade and be gone by morning, but I paid special attention to the fact that my waist remained nipped in a bit. Not dramatically so, but it was still smaller than normal. I made a mental note to see if one of these things could do permanent body shaping.

The most dramatic difference of course, without the clothes or body shaping tools, was my face and my hair. My hair, even in its basic sleep ready ponytail, was distinctly feminine. The color, the volume, the shape. It would only be more so with the more appropriate office styling. And without makeup the change wasn’t as dramatic on my face, but my eyebrows, the lack of facial hair, and the warm soft glowing skin, along with the long eyelashes all combined to say feminine. Woman.

So now it really begins for me. The point where I’m not me, even when I’m not trying to be Paris.