“Our leathered, weather-beaten landlord left fresh figs, tomatoes and lemons when he stopped by. He couldn’t speak English and we couldn’t speak Italian so we talked with our hands and figured things out. When we were walking to the beach one afternoon, we saw him zipping down the street—shirtless—in shorts and flip-flops on his Vespa. This was his life. He looked over the Mediterranean every day, from whatever point of town he happened to be in, his full head of hair flying in the wind. This old Italian man, with his figs, tomatoes and lemons and view was a rich man in many ways.”
Read in full on Paste Magazine.
“My friend’s daughter perched stone-still on my barstool, a beautiful 12-year-old going on 17. She is attending a dance soon and wants to be ravishing. Would I do a trial makeover? she begged. With her mom’s consent, I now lightly moisturize her clear skin and proceed with some powders for countering, neutral tones on her lids and mascara. She chooses a pale pink lip color to finish her look. I had hardly done anything yet she is thrilled because normally she is not allowed to wear makeup.
Though I have a 17-year-old daughter, this experience is new for me. My girl doesn’t wear any makeup, except to attend her senior prom (where her girlfriends did makeup with her). Even as a little girl, makeup grossed her out.”
Read in full on Jennifer Pastiloff’s website The Manifest-Station.