Vanities Beauty
W
hen the first waterproof
mascaras hit counters
in the 1940s, they were
not intended to guard
against the occasional midafternoon
emotional collapse. This was a side
benefit, of course—that a person could
bawl her eyes out without ruining her
pristine maquillage—but really, the stuff
was for swimming. The German
cosmetics company Leichner created a
black liquid “sealer” called Wimperlack
specifically for the champion swimmer
and actress Esther Williams, who
rose to fame at San Francisco’s Aquacade
(essentially a grand outdoor circus that
took place in a giant chlorinated pool).
Williams, who went on to star in the
Technicolor musical Bathing Beauty,
epitomized perpetual sunniness in
a ruched one-piece. Behind the scenes,
she was flailing—she married four
times and dabbled in hallucinogenic drugs
after suffering from chronically low
self-esteem—but on the outside, she
was impeccable. Her lacquer never
ran, even when she was in the deep end.
There is an aggressive artifice to
Williams’s unflappably pert veneer, one
that Tom Ford must be nodding to with
his aptly named mascara, Emotionproof.
(Having tried the new formula myself,SOB STORY
In a time of shared anxiety, Judy, and next-gen waterproof
mascaras, the glamorous cry is having a momentI can attest: It never budges,
even in punishing New York
humidity.) But there is also
power, and equal pretense,
when it comes to swerving
in the opposite direction. In
June, Acne Studios sent models down
the runway with crystal tears cleverly
suspended by monofilament. A few
months earlier, for Gucci’s fall 2019 show,
makeup artist Thomas de Kluyver turned
on the waterworks, gluing latex teardrops
onto cheeks like melting icicles. “I don’t
feel that tears are necessarily sad,” de
Kluyver says, reflecting on the underlying
inspiration. “We’re living in a time whereA photograph
from Clara
Giaminardi’s
series The
Reasons I Cry,
featuring
model India
Tuersley.