A makeup artist’s goal is to make the line between reality and what the audience sees on the screen so blurred that the audience is convinced of what they are watching is real. Take Hannah, from season 1 of The Walking Dead, for example. Seeing that bloody, entrails ensuing, decaying, oozing half of a corpse crawling desperately on the grass was intense. Long time fans of the comic and new comers alike were fascinated by the horror and the “how did they do that?” aspect. Makeup can make or break a movie, theater production or haunted house.
But what happens when that line is blurred in a child’s Halloween costume?
It was mid-September 2007 when my then third grader niece, Soleil, approached me with a question. She was a tiny little girl whose wispy blond hair was always in a cute and creative style which consistently complemented her girly outfits. Her nose crinkled when she giggled and her eyes were perpetually sparkling. She was the epitome of sugar and spice; which was why I thought the last thing I’d ever expect was for her to ask, “Aunt Erin, can you please make me into a dead beauty queen for Halloween?” I was so proud. I’ve always been the quirky Aunt, the one with tattoos and piercings; the “weird” one that keeps cauldrons, potion bottles and witch decorations up all year round. She came to the right place.
A couple of days later I was sitting in the makeup chair myself getting ready for a show and getting pointers from two of my most trusted makeup artists. If the child wanted to look like a dead beauty queen, then she was going to be the best that her school had ever seen! I wanted screen quality, so like a true over achiever, I skipped over the cheap grease makeup from the local party shop. I dipped deep into my pockets and bought a palette from Ben Nye along with a few other colors that I thought would look good. I wanted to do a trial run before the big Halloween parade at her school. She was excited and so was I! It didn’t take too long to finish and for a little girl, Soleil sat incredibly still while I painted, perfected and powdered. I stood up, took a few steps back and realized that I had forgotten the coup de grace-tiny little veins. I sharpened my blue eyeliner and got to work. 10 minutes later and plenty of talking to myself, I was finished.
It was a masterpiece. It was real enough to make Ve Niell smile. I was sure that everyone was going to congratulate me on a job well done. I’d have parents vying for precious makeup spots and kids lining up around the corner for me to turn them into horrifying ghouls! But that didn’t happen.
What ended up happening instead is my brother (Soleil’s dad) reeling back in horror at what I had done to his little girl. His precious, sweet baby had transformed into a dead beauty queen and looked a little too…realistic.
He called me and simply said, “No. Dial it back a little”
To state that I was merely disappointed would be a grievous understatement. The wind was taken out of my sails with hurricane force. I was just sure that everyone would love it but I realized that being *too realistic* is the stuff that real nightmares are made of; especially for parents. I also realized that maybe an over achieving mentality of being screen accurate doesn’t mean that it is acceptable to parade your child around the elementary school looking like you just stepped off the set of NCIS Miami.
