MAKEUP CAN MAKE THE MAN: Andrei, one of Willamette Week's fearless interns, consented to let us "experiment" with his look.

COLUMN
The Illustrated MAN

by ELIZABETH DYE
243-2122 ext. 335


I can't count on both hands the times I've seen boys watch girls put on makeup with barely stifled envy. Who blames the little tykes? Makeup is buckets of fun. It's theater, and every last Gap-shopping one of us needs that dose of drama once in a while. And let's put to bed once and for all the myth that men aren't vain, and therefore don't primp. My high-school prom date excused himself--10 times!--during dinner to check his hair (the waiter and I got real friendly, but that's another story).

Notwithstanding all the go-in-disguise, cover-your-flaws arguments in favor of drawing on yourself, men should know the obvious: Makeup is paint. Arts and crafts. It's a form of creative expression like any other, with all the soothing and soul-restoring benefits of ceramics or journaling. Plus it's temporary. You can squander your salary at one of those paint-your-own pottery parlors and wind up with a lumpy tureen you'll grow to loathe, or you can play with Maybelline and scrub down when you've tired of it. Why should girls have all the worry-free fun?

So, boys, you're ready to take the plunge. Or a baby step. Now what? Though profuse goos and hues pander to appearance-conscious women, where does the soon-to-be-made-up man begin? For this I needed an expert. Jason Paulson is a retail makeup artist for MAC Cosmetics (find him at the downtown Nordy's counter, 224-6666, ext. 1066). When I asked him if men frequently approach the counter for cosmetic guidance, he laughed and said he gets as many hecklers as curious shoppers. "Portland is a conservative town. People here are pretty easily freaked out by makeup." Sad, people, sad. Still, Jason is informed and professional, and he's a makeup wearer himself--a great resource for your first experiment. He does see makeup on Portland men, although it tends to be on members of a "hipster" or fashion-y crowd. "Street kids come in sometimes--and fashion starts on the street," he says.

Speaking of the street, check out other boys to see what they've got on (Jason recently spotted a Matador doorman in some slick iridescent black eyeliner. Cool). Scrutinize magazine advertisements and fashion spreads, and not just the obvious guy-as-Tammy-Faye examples. Makeup is everywhere. I don't care if he does crack a raw egg into his daily OJ, that Abercrombie & Fitch bohunk's flushed cheeks and bee-stung lips aren't natural.

Still don't want to put stuff on your face? OK, I give up. But cosmetic companies won't. Ever eager for new markets, Estée Lauder and the like have begun courting men with what are euphemistically termed "grooming" products. In substance, they differ not at all from women's products, but vive la difference in style. To disguise the girly implications, men's grooming products are described using butch techno-terms familiar to anyone who's ever endured halftime Afta commercials--"smoothing," "optimizing," "bracing." Aramis' Surface line offers moisturizer, bronzer, mattifying cream, and a line-smoothing spackle, but calls every goop in the lot "gel" (as in "don't be afraid, it's just like toothpaste"). Clinique has introduced Stop Signs Serum for men, identical except in name to its Stop Signs Age Defending Complex (dude, it's not cool to care about aging if you're a man. That sun damage makes you look--what's the cliché?--distinguished).

Hype aside, even wash-and-go men have plenty to gain from a basic, no-frills skin-care routine. This means a good moisturizer with sunscreen (Jason also recommends a blotting powder to keep down shine), and cleansing and shaving products containing mild ingredients. Just because men's products don't promise instant and permanent youth like women's do, it doesn't mean they don't lie. For example, shave creams that contain menthol and camphor claim to soothe skin and create a closer shave, but actually irritate hair follicles and encourage ingrown hairs. The beauty backlash that led to better labeling and more plausible claims for women's products has yet to hit the man's world.

Gentlemen, make a point of educating yourself about the products you use, and resist those cheap appeals to machismo that somehow sell Brut and Barbasol. If you buy from department-store counters, ask questions of the salespeople and read the tiny-print disclosure pamphlets that accompany products. Cosmetics companies want to make money, so let them know what you want. That mint-green mascara you've longed for may not be far off.