Unpaid Spokeswomen #6

Welcome to Unpaid Spokeswomen, a column where we log what we’ve been into this week. Behind the wigs, makeup, costumes, and several layers of irony, we are two humans who genuinely enjoy doing things. Here is a weekly roundup of our unfiltered expert recommendations.

Hints: Luxury goods, psychological horror. You get the picture.

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Trixie:

Maybelline Age Rewind Concealer

Ok, admittedly I have been using this product for drag, but that’s besides the point. I have seen this product for years previously at my local CVS and been like “what kind of an abject turd would use this concealer that has a gross fuzzy sponge tip?” Typically gimmicky applicators turn me off. (Remember that disgusting paint roller Covergirl foundation from the early 2010’s? Yikes bitch.) However in this case I will admit that I made an unfair judgement on Miss Age Rewind. Super thin consistency, super full coverage, super easy to use weird fuzzy applicator. Not sure on shade match? At $9.99, you can but a couple and mix them. I regularly get in drag and do my signature kabuki theatre face carving technique using just these little bad boys from the drug store. Gag.

Maybelline Age Rewind, AKA that girl

Prada Terry Tote Bag in Pink, 2021 SS

I have never been a woman of luxury. Sure, I walk among them, assimilating with those different than me like Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds. But several of my fancy friends, such as Lisa Vanderpump and Iggy Azalea, serve as sobering and circular reminders that I am just a barefoot goblin crouched over a can of beans in the park. However, for my 32nd birthday, my boyfriend bought me this beautiful pink bag and I love it so much. At first I was like, “How will I ever use this? It’s not really right for drag but it’s a little too fabulous for me out of drag.” Lest we forget, out of drag I look like Moby if he never pursued music and instead became a podiatrist. However, I have found that since I dress so plain, this fun fuzzy pop of color goes with everything. It’s very rich but also very foolish and I like when fancy things have a sense of humor. Muppet woman at a ladies’ luncheon.

THE Prada Terry Tote Bag.

Katya: 

Vecherniy Urgant presents CIAO 2020

While I have been listening to Russian pop music for over a decade and studying the language sporadically over the years, I am nowhere near fluent enough to enjoy the late night show Vecherniy Urgant without subtitles, which is sort of like the equivalent of The Late Show with David Letterman or Jimmy Kimmel. For New Years, the show produced an entire evening Italian-style, and it is absolutely Bellissimo. The entire show is acted out in fully committed macaroni Italian, and features pop stars performing Italian versions of their hit songs, many of which sound even better than the original Russian! I hardly ever listen to music with male vocals, but I have to say “Cometa” by Jony is just beautiful, and the full Italian playlist is (finally) available on Spotify. Interstitial highlights include a fake commercial for a cleaning product called “Buono” and a segment where a famous filmmaker shows the host and a dozen other male guests his innovative new gay porno film. I’ve watched it about 12 times.  It’s just so damn good, and so impressive how much work they put into it. Sadly, no American late night program would or could ever.

CIAO 2020: American variety TV found dead.

The Night House (2021)

I really love going to the movies, so after more than a year in lockdown, I was very excited to return to my neighborhood cinema when it reopened. I was almost giddy when I arrived in my seat with my barrel of fountain soda and 35 dollar pretzel to enjoy what seemed like a really cool horror movie. Pity that after over a year of missing out on the movies, the one I finally returned to see– an intriguing little horror film set in the woods called In The Earth– sucked so bad I actually walked out of the theater with 20 minutes left of the film.  But over the next few months, I would see trailers for The Night House, which looked very promising. I saw it on opening night, and in my humble opinion, it absolutely fucking slaps, serves, and yeets your mom’s wig right out the window. Rebecca Hall (who was born exactly two days after me) is incredible, as a school teacher grieving the recent suicide of her husband. She carries the movie with incredible talent– she basically shits on them in every scene, you wonder if the title was going to be The Shit House–such is her impact. For the heart-attack prone, there are only a few intense jump scares, all deployed well, unlike so many of the cheap-thrills moments that make up today’s horror movies. There’s a scene early in the film where Rebecca Hall meets with the mother of one of her students and it is a brilliant showcase of great writing and spectacular acting. It gets weirder and scarier and builds to a very intense final scene, and even though looking back the plot might not make 100% sense, I loved every single minute of it.

The Night House starring Rebecca Hall. Her mind.