[intro music]
>> When I sit down and I do my makeup, I can't help but always reflect upon when I would
watch my mother do her makeup.
>> And She had this little makeup bag...
>> This tiny little bag that fit just these little magical moments that transformed her
and made her feel better about herself.
>> I would watch her apply her makeup while she sat on the edge of the bed using a small
hand held mirror.
>> I can't even imagine doing that now.
>> I can't even go on a camping trip without having a big case!
>> So I watched my mother and she was simple...
>> what she used was just a minimal amount of makeup.
>> She used a foundation, A blush...
>> Virtually no lipstick.
>> She would wear ohh....
Caramex?
or Blistex?
>> I think my mother had an addiction to Blistex!
>> Every time she came close to kiss me I could smell a minty freshness on her.
>> No heavy perfume.
>> She chose two eyeshadows... >> a pink and a blue that she would gradually
mix into a violet on the edge of her eyes.
>> And she had these clear blue eyes, They were almost grey.
>> My mother would not leave the house without having her makeup done.
>> That was part of her wardrobe.
It's part of my wardrobe too.
>> As much as I say on my day off, "I'm not going to put anything on my face."
>> I can't walk out without it.
>> My mother was a very attractive woman.
>> I remember we would get on a Bus and sometimes the bus driver would make a little comment
to her and tell her she didn't have to pay the fare.
>> Now this was in New York.
Nobody got away with not paying a fare!
>> My mother, she could walk anywhere and heads would turn.
>> I loved my mother.
>> But at the same time, as I got older, I felt as if I was in competition with her.
>> Why is it that we look at our mothers and we idolize them.
They are the picture of perfection.
>> We wanna please them.
We wanna be just like them.
>> We sneak into their rooms.
We put on their shoes.
We put on their clothes.
And we start to try their makeup.
>> I know I did.
>> And...
It never looked the same.
>> [sniff] If I get a little emotional, the next part is hard.
>> When my mother was diagnosed and she was about to die...
>> I went to the nursing home where she was... and she still had that little makeup bag.
>> and... she couldn't make it to the makeup bag, so she would ask me to get it for her.
>> I could see her hand shake.
I could see that she was taking so much morphine to kill the pain...
>> But she still wanted to hold herself up and look a certain way.
>> She took great pride in the way that she looked.
>> I can still smell the way that the nursing home smelled.
>> It was like cafeteria food mixed with the cleansers and the people that were dying around
her.
>> But still she had that minty fresh smell.
>> She'd say, "Debbie.
Go get me my makeup bag."
>> I'd say, "Mom...
You know you're in a lot of pain.
>> No.
I'm here.
You don't have to put your makeup on.
You don't have to look a certain way.
Just be comfortable.
Relax."
>> "I'll be damned if I'm gonna die without my makeup on!"
She said.
>> "I can't trust you kids to put it on right.
Give me my makeup bag!"
>> I'd go and I'd get her makeup bag.
I realized later on in life that was the one hold that you have to your pride...
>> to how you hold yourself... >> to how you feel about yourself.
>> And I take great pride in how my skin looks and my makeup looks.
>> I love my makeup.
I love how everyday I have to make a choice as to what colors I'm going to use and what
look I'm going to have.
>> My mother didn't have those choices.
She had one basic look.
>> When did it all of a sudden get so complicated?
>> When did we all of a sudden go from that one basic look to being able to transform
ourselves?
>> I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it.
I truly enjoy it.
It's not a chore for me.
>> Every morning when I get up and I do my makeup, I look through the mirror.
>> I look into the center of my eye.
>> I look at how I've aged and I wonder, with fear, if my mother went through the same thing?
>> Noticing every small fine line.
Did she care?
She didn't carry herself like she did.
>> People who knew my mother, say I look just like my mother.
And I don't see it.
>> But today I do.
Today I look into my eyes, I look at my cheeks, and my nose.
I look at how my brows are and I am exactly like my mother.
>> I miss her everyday and I think of her.
And maybe that's what keeps here alive in me is that I can see her everyday.
>> Reflected in my mirror back at me...putting on her makeup.
[music and roll credits]