Puss in boots

Despite still feeling a bit worse for wear, Mr P and I managed to get over to Italy this weekend to see his folks as planned. To be honest I wasn't relishing the idea of traveling. Me being me, preparing for a weekend away is nothing short of a military operation and I just didn't have the energy for it. The packing must be precise and I must be prepared for every eventuality... that is, when it comes to my vanity case. Clothes, underwear, shoes.... they can be thrown in willy nilly. My cosmetics however, now that's a different ballgame. A few years ago, when the airports first imposed the liquids rule I went into a near state of panic. As ludicrous as it may sound, my hand luggage has always been a vanity case of sorts, or at least a giant make-up bag filled with everything I could possibly need, all too precious to be put in the hold. I know, it's nuts. It's all stuff that can be re-purchased easily if it ever got lost, but for some reason I actually get separation anxiety if parted from my products. Even when they eventually allowed liquids under 100ml (and only one measly bag's worth) I rushed about in a state of angst trying to purchase my favourite creams and shampoos in mini sizes, and decanting those which didn't come in pixie size into regulation-sized bottles from Superdrug or Muji. With make-up there was always a blurry line of what counted as liquid.... lip gloss, mascara, various compact products. At one point I tried to use only mineral make-up so that security would clearly see that I was carrying powders which would not be included in the stingy liquid limit allowed for carry-on baggage. Oh the stress....
So having carefully, and wearily, packed my beauty case I realised that I should probably cut down on the 3 12-colour eyeshadow palettes I included (really, it was probably the codeine...). I reasoned that I probably wouldn't even get round to applying one colour, let alone 36. So out went the palettes and I decided to take a liquid liner instead, minimum effort, maximum effect, no blending required. I found it. It had dried out. Shopping opportunity ahead.
It turned out to be quite a fruitful weekend in the shopping stakes. I managed to nab two pairs of beautiful boots for the price of one. One pair was in a buttery dark brown suede with a high wedge heel and round toe, and the other, a chestnut brown leather with a kind of broderie pattern for every-day wanderings. The shop assistant called them "English style" boots, because of the design. I couldn't quite relate the pattern with English style, but hey.... English = exotic in Italy, and that's fine with me!
I also picked up a new liquid eyeliner (L'Oreal carbon gloss) and an extra black volume mascara, also by L'Oreal. Not a brand I like that much generally, maybe because it's so BIG and so EVERYWHERE, but I'd heard good things about the liner so I thought I'd give it a go. Plus, I don't think Mr P could physically watch me hand over a sum of more than 2 digits for a designer liner. On the other hand, if he wasn't with me....
That night we went out with friends, and I hadn't really brought anything to wear for going out. (Out? Out?? I'd kind of forgotten the meaning of the word recently) My new liner came to the rescue. I wouldn't have been in the mood to start blending eyeshadows anyway, so I decided to dress myself up with a cat-eye. The long felt applicator pen looked like it was going to be a challenge to handle, but it was surprisingly easy to get a good even application and I was feline in no time ( Fe-LINE... geddit?)... Sorry.
I wore my new suede boots which were so comfortable and yet so elegant (IMO obviously, others may disagree) and I felt quite re-born prancing around in them before going out. All of a sudden my cough which had been plaguing me for a almost a week had disappeared. All hail the miracle of new footwear.
Stepping into the lift, Mr P looked at me and said: "Wow, sexy eyes. Is that the new liner?" All hail the miracle of new make-up.
We ate, laughed and generally made merry and we forgot all our woes of the week that had gone.
All hail the miracle of the company of good friends.