Archive | August, 2013

oh yeah, and about college

30 Aug

If you’re an avid Imogen Maxwell fan, you’ll have noticed an unusual amount of activity on my Instagram recently.

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That’s because I am unemployed and have no friends.

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and spend all day in H&M trying things on with absolutely no intention of buying them.  Star jumper crop top accessoried by my newly re-calibrated mullet, by David @ Rainbow Rooms Int, Royal Exchange Square

But considering I am unemployed and have no friends, I’ve been keeping quite busy.  Let me tell you about my first week at college.  The journey there was (before I found carpool friends) a shitty bus ride and a walk past this:

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Titan Crane, Queens Quay

to eventually end up here:

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My class is 21 ladies from all kinds of backgrounds; a few hairdressers, a few with completely unrelated degrees.  All of them lovely, none of them the terrifying supermodels I had feared.  Most of our sessions are spent in rooms like this:

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it was this photo that reminded me to get a haircut

wearing this:

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The coursework sounds like it’s going to be time consuming, expensive, and fucking amazing.  We’ll be doing everything; hairdressing, photography, digital editing, styling, location work, high fashion… everything.  I have so much to learn and I can’t wait to really get stuck in!  Win!

I was going to end this post with School’s Out by Alice Cooper, since it’s school-themed, but school’s only just gone back in so here he is with Trash instead (cos I love the way you look, you’re such a high class tramp).

 

Happy Friday, sexy readers Xx

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habits I need to break

29 Aug

It’s our two week anniversary, Glasgow.  You’ve given me three new housemates and two job interviews.  You’ve taken me on one date, 19 subway rides and too many trips to MacDonalds.  We’re two weeks into our new life together, Glasgow, and I’m one week into my course.  I know this might be rushing things a bit… but I think you might be the one.

Here are our Finnish friends with their new single So Happy I Could Die, which nicely sums up how I’m feeling about things right now.

 

This post was going to be a LOL-fest about how I need to stop smiling at people on public transport and saying ‘hi’ to everyone I walk past in the street – we’re not in Oban any more, Dorothy – but I don’t actually intend to stop doing either of those things.  Smile and the subway smiles with you; fart and you stand alone.

But anyway, there is something more pressing to be addressed.  I have identified a ‘development area’ for myself (two job interviews and I’ve turned into an utter wanker, it seems).

Obviously, I’m meeting a lot of new people here in the big smoke.  All the mega-babes on my course, naturally, but ‘non-makeup’ people too.  And it’s normal when you meet new people for them to ask you what you do.

And I need to STOP answering “studying.  Makeup Artistry… but I’M NOT A BIMBO.”

Are you LISTENING to yourself, Imogen Maxwell?  That’s an insult to me, my tutors/lecturers, and my classmates.  It’s also a bit of an insult to whoever I’m talking to when I say things like that; I’m yet to have “I’m studying makeup artistry” met with “well you must be one hell of a vacuous deadshit, hey.”

no-no

I’m judging people for judging me when they aren’t even – and that is using bad judgement.

So.  If ever I’m met with “why?” instead of “cool!” when i say what i do, I shall puff up my chest, look ’em in the eye and say “because I want to.”  Which is, as far as I know, the most compelling reason there is.

But until that day, I’ll be cutting back on so much self-deprecation and apologising about what I’m doing; no one else actually gives a fuck anyway, and I’ve taken on some reasonably seismic upheaval to make this dream of mine come true.  I AM serious about makeup, so it’s time for my words to line up with my actions.

To celebrate the end of MY bad habit of hanging shit on myself, I present to you the second long-haired pack of reprobates for today – unprecedented!  Two in one flog post – you lucky devils!  Here you’ve got New York young guns, Nasty Habit, with Hip Shakin’ Fox.  Sorry, and you’re welcome.

 

blogs and kisses,
x Imo

 

I did a makeup!

25 Aug

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There you go.  It looks better on my Instagram – are you following me?  Get on it.  www.instagram.com/imogenmaxwell

After all the chit-chat about getting into college and moving cities etc etc, we’re back to mucking about with the facepaint – the whole original point of this flog.

Here are the tasty boys from Jettblack with “Less Torque, More Thrust” to celebrate.

You can’t actually see them in that video obviously, so click here to be taken to some topless photos of them I just happen to have on archive.

xX

GIF me a job

23 Aug

Can I just say… today is the first time I’ve been able to get a GIF to work on my flog.  So… someone, GIF me a high-five!

No?  Moving on.

Enrollment day went well.  Found the bus, got off at the right stop, didn’t accidentally join a gang.  Bit of a waste, really, because the long long corridors at the college would be PERFECT for menacing, West-Side-Story-style click-walking.

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not what actual gangs are like

not what actual gangs are like

My greatest fear was that my classmates would be all like

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unfriendly, 15 years old, and orange

but they weren’t.  They WERE younger than me but not by fifteen years.  They WERE a little orange (some of them) but that’s alright with me.

They were also all friendly, and everyone was a little nervous and unsure of what to expect, so it was fine.  There was lots of green/blue/pink/purple/silver hair and LOTS of facial piercings (so I shan’t be getting my lip pierced now, partly because it would make me the same as everyone else but mostly because I am pretty sure my mother would march right over here – yes, from Australia – and tear it out of my face if I did.  Yes, I am thirty years old, contemplating a facial piercing and not going ahead because my parents would kill me.  Shut up.)

So that’s enrollment all done, and classes begin on Tuesday.  The rest of this week was spent re-acquainting myself with my CV and exploring my local area.  I’ve applied for a couple of jobs but I’m having a bit of an identity crisis.  I was the boss-lady up in Oban for the last five years so the idea of NOT having any responsibility kind of appeals, yet I also want to earn more than the minimum wage.  What to do?

First things first, I should really sort my chipped black nail polish out.

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May as well have “I’m not getting the job, am I?” tattooed on my neck.

Today’s tune deviates once again from the metal of glam and hair.  Because I am multi-faceted, with layers.  Like an onion.  A lot like an onion actually.  Delicious, but no one will have me in case they have to kiss their girlfriend later.  Boom boom!  Just kidding.  ANYWAY.

I’ve been making the most of the kitchen in my new flat which has not one but TWO dance areas.  Brilliant.  My housemates couldn’t be lovelier either.  Lucky me.  So let’s party – hit play and dance around, fools.  Yes, I know it’s annoying ad-music, but live a little won’t you.  It’s fun.

Happy Friday, lovers – I’m off to whoop it up with Loz who’s coming for a visit from Oban tonight.  We’re going to scare the panties off Glasgow.

Xx

let’s go, Glasgow

18 Aug

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Here is my face looking pretty darn pleased with itself, because as of Wednesday last week, I live in Glasgow.  And tomorrow I go in to Clydebank to enrol in my first of two years of study towards a Higher National Diploma in Make-Up Artistry.

I haven’t put much up on here lately because it’s been a bit of a funny ole time in the Imosphere, and I’ve not known what to say about a few things during this time of upheaval.  And this flog is for PHOTOS and feel-good fun times, not wordy introspective moany whiney pish-posh.

The end of my era (in Oban generally, at the backpackers specifically) – although not any kind of final goodbye – was hard and sad and weird.  I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to, and I still wake up every morning with what I need to get on with during my working day there playing on my mind.  I guess that will fade in time.

Packing and moving always sucks but I’ve done it enough times, and recently, to be good at it.  My toothbrush and deodorant were where I thought i’d packed them, and I was also able to immediately locate the bra and dress I wanted to wear when I got changed.  I still need quite a bit of storage/furniture/drawers/a desk etc, but for now I know what is in each of the boxes piled around my new room.

Tomorrow will be my first shot at public transport between my new flat and the college, which will hopefully pass without incident.  After enrolling I’ve got one more week until classes start for real, one more week to get good at being in Glasgow and also maybe to find a part time job.  Wish me luck.

I’m looking for a highly-paid part time position that is fun, with cool workmates, preferably somewhere that gives me access to a lot of free shit that I actually need or want.  These things might include CDs, concert tickets, food and makeup.  Please forward job offers/sponsorship via my contact page.

But anyway.  This flog is about to be inundated with exciting tales and photos of my road to makeup mastery.  Thank you for hanging in there with me while I transition from backpacker queen to Academy Award-winning makeup goddess.

Perhaps today’s toughest decision is which farewell/new-beginning/winds of change themed hair-metal track to whip out to commemorate this moment in our journey.  There are so many to choose from and I feel a great responsibility to choose wisely.

Is Glasgow to be my Paradise City?  Here I Go Again On My Own, striking out solo in a new town?  Who will make me feel Welcome To The Jungle?  Or should I be looking backwards and assuring Oban and all my friends there that I Remember You?  Is there ever a good enough reason to put the cringey I Hate Kissing You Goodbye out there?  Should I be saving Home Sweet Home for a future post about my upcoming trip to Australia?

Gah.  Whitesnake wins.  Now go get yourself a floaty white dressing gown, a powerful wind machine, not one but two Jaguars and roll around on the pushed-together bonnets.

Enjoy!  Xx

Flog or CLOG?

4 Aug

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Let’s face it, it may as well be the Chloe Maxwell blog/flog.

Here she is again, on her way to a friend’s Goths n’ Geeks themed party, rocking some goth makeup by me of course.  And wearing one of my former favourite tshirts too.  Oh, I do like a tshirt with a hood, I do.

Red eyeshadow by Napoleon Perdis (donated to me by the thunder down under, Miss Jacqui Mossop, who handed it over some years ago with a “I don’t know what I was thinking, here, you take it” – and I’ve had a surprising amount of use out of it.)  The colour might not be your/anyone’s cup of tea but the product itself is good; highly pigmented, super-fine powder eyeshadow that applied and blended really well over my Makeup Forever eye primer.

The black around her eyes is Snazaroo face paint, which made Chloe’s eyes water to buggery – don’t put that shit on your waterline, people, it doesn’t belong there.

The red hair spray is something from Superdrug, I dunno, Chloe bought it.  Ergo it was probably cheap, but it applied well and came out sans drama.

Chloe’s pallor is largely natural but she is also sporting:

  • Benefit Realness of Concealness yellow concealer under her eyes to counter her blueish-purple douche bags;
  • Sephora skin primer to fill in/smooth over the skin surface for flawless foundation;
  • Maybelline Dream Matt Mousse in its palest shade (although only where needed, most of that is her own lily-white complexion);
  • a touch of Boots No 7 green primer on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose as she was heading to a party with drinking so this was all in aid of keeping her snowy-white and not looking like a red-faced drunkard in any photos.

The black lipstick is Illamasqua, and an excellent example of how dark lipstick on a … not-Angelina-Jolie-lipped lady can visually thin the lips quite spectacularly.

I am personally crusading to bring the thin lip back in to fashion.  It seems I am alone in this quest, as I couldn’t find a photo of a human with lips thin enough for my liking, and so… to the cartoons.  Some of my favourites have got it goin’ on, observe:

I know she's traditionally considered a villain but I think Ursula is misunderstood.

I know she’s traditionally considered a villain but I think Ursula is misunderstood.

Ursula is an excellent example of working with what you’ve got; her hair, nails and makeup are flawless (just LOOK at that uniformly purple skin!) and she refuses to be body-shamed into putting on a cardigan.

She’s also not afraid of drawing attention to that slimline lip there.  I hope to look something like this when I’m in my 70s.

Pink, purple, stripey and a lil bit sleazy. Miow!

Pink, purple, stripey and a lil bit sleazy. Meow!

No lips to speak of on this guy, yet he still cuts a fine figure.  I like the cut of the Cheshire Cat’s jib in general actually; why give everything away when you can be all smoke and mirrors?

I hope, like him, that when I disappear/fade away/shuffle off this mortal coil, I’ll be so unfathomably fabulous that no one will ever quite believe I was here in the first place.

Here’s to doing it differently, lovers xX

cheap trick

2 Aug

I got my THRIFTY badge when I was a girl guide and this is why:

bastard boobs busting my bra

bastard boobs busting my bra

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underwire, under control

Because I sew my errant underwire back in with dental floss, so it ne’er budges again.  Seriously, try it, and you’ll also have minty-fresh boosies to boot.  Use it to sew buttons back on if you never want them to pop off ever again.  Unbreakable stuff, that dental floss.

I wouldn’t be going all post-war-Poland on my underwear if it wasn’t thirty bucks a pop.  That’s right; the EXPENSIVE perils of being stacked up front.  You lot think it’s all swanning about getting free drinks and whatnot, mais non.

And I’m a student now, you see.  No more of my glorious champagne lifestyle, it’s all spam and spumante for me.

Thank god my older sister Phoebe got me a Bravissimo voucher for my birthday, don't know how much longer that bad boy's going to hold out.

Thank god my favourite older sister Phoebe got me a Bravissimo voucher for my birthday, don’t know how much longer that bad boy’s going to hold out.

Which segues neatly into how I’m going to support myself once my ENORMOUS salary from the Backpackers gets pruned back to practically nothing.  I don’t have the answer to that yet, so while I find a second job, I’ll be filling in surveys on http://www.valuedopinions.co.uk to earn Amazon vouches to keep myself in Wayne’s World wigs and Sex Pistols CDs (they really should put a breathalyser on the Wish List somehow).

Anyway.  Here’s Cinderella with Gypsy Road, which is where I’m headed with this slow-but-stylish slide into destitution.  The song isn’t about a fledgling makeup artist struggling to buy bras, more about shagging and getting into bar fights, but you get the idea.

 

 

PS Makeup-related bargain while we’re on the subject of penny-pinching – here are those Iron Fist Zombie Stomper nail stickers on sale, 50% off!  Get in!

http://www.thisispulp.co.uk/item/womens-accessories-stickers_iron-fist-zombie-stomper-nail-sticker_94_581_10229_1.html

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